Gah, first posts are always the hardest. I made Hania new for some reason, don’t ask why. This will be short!

~Hania~

“Good luck!” my mother calls in Arabic. I say goodbye to her, then run out the door.

It’s my first day of school. My family has just been put here, thank Allah, in the town of Sarscile. I’m a Syrian refugee, and my entire family is grateful to the US for letting us live here. My sister has PTSD, which means that she has anxiety and a lot of nightmares. She’s getting a therapist soon, but until then, she’s as quiet as a mouse.

On the bus, I notice an Asian girl sitting in the seat across from me. She’s staring at me. She holds a book in one hand, but even when I meet her gaze, she shyly looks away, not saying anything.

“I’m Hania,” I say.

“Miya,” she replies, softly. We talk for a bit, Miya looking nervous, like she wants to fit in but doesn’t know how.

For some reason, even though I don’t know much about her, her backstory seems a lot like mine. I don’t even know what her story is.

Sorry guys I forgot to my charrie's name. I couldn't think of a good one at first so I left it blank and forgot to go back... 

Anyway, her name is Yael Siegal. 

Another thing on Yael's personality - she can sometimes be blunt, and a little weird, which she doesnt't really like.

Eddie

~

Miya entered the school deep in conversation with a girl I didn't know. I was watching them, bored with the seemingly required chatter over summer vacations that was going on amongst my friends.

Miya fascinated me. I wished we were friends, and hoped, this year, that we could be. She'd always struck me as caught between cultures, as I was.

I didn't know if Japanese parents were as bad as Chinese ones. I assumed they had somewhat the same Asian philosophy. Trouble was, I was also American. The world didn't revolve around competitions and test grades and debate club meets. 

Strolling, graceful, panther-like, almost hearing smooth jazz in my head, I made my approach. "Hi," I said.

Miya turned. "Hi."

The other girl, looking nervous, faded into the crowd. 

"Oh, sorry," I said.

"It's okay."

"I'm Eddie," I said, in case she didn't know.

"My name is Miya."

~~

Short, I know.  Apologies if I didn't get Miya right.  

Miya~

I look at myself in the mirror, running the eyeliner pencil carefully down my eyelid. Aaand… Done. My daily mask applied, I spend a couple more minutes eyeing my reflection, and grimace at it. Every feature reads “different.” How did I ever think I could fit in here? 

“Miya! Hurry up! The bus is here!” my grandmother calls from downstairs. I grab my navy backpack, prepacked with my lunch (sushi and half a PB&J sandwich) and jog downstairs.

“Itte kimasu, oba-chan,” I smile to her at the door. I notice a couple of younger kids looking curiously at me from behind, and repeat, a little louder, “Bye, granny!” 

On the bus, I see a new girl sitting across the aisle from me. I’ve never seen her before, and I look at her not without curiosity. She seems hesitant, somehow, and with a pang I realize that this must be exactly what I look like. Hesitant and shy. Well, so much for fitting in. I look down as the girl turns to me. How dare I let her find me staring!

“I’m Hania,” she speaks. I smile back, hoping it looks natural.

“Miya.” We carry on a slightly tense conversation, and I really really hope now that my words make sense. Do I seem normal? In place? Not tense? I can feel my breath speeding up, and Hania looks at me not without concern. Her eyes seem to hold an unusual power of true sight, and I can’t help but feel that she’s looking through to my very soul. I don’t know how that makes me feel. Usually, I would grow tense at this, scared almost. But something in my heart reaches out to this girl, as if something in her story is similar to mine, as if, for once, I fit in. What do you know of her story? A voice in my head questions. You’ve barely talked. True. And yet, in that hesitant, awkward conversation, in my subconscious mind I make myself a promise. I’m going to get to know this girl, if it takes the whole year to.

We walk off the bus, and Hania disappears into the crowd. Another boy walks up to me, looking like he’d specifically sought me out of the crowd. I look up, startled. A second person to introduce themselves to me in one day. This sure is a record. Maybe I’m doing better at fitting in than I thought I was. He seems about to say something else, but the warning bell rings, and I excuse myself awkwardly. 

“Sorry, gotta go to class. See you later, maybe.” He nods, and I slip off to math class. I’m in honors math this year, along with Mia. I slip into the seat next to her, pulling out my graph paper to begin working on the warm up. Mia keeps writing something on her paper, oblivious to my presence. She’s probably writing something musical, knowing her. I smile. That’s the perfect thing about Mia. We don’t need to talk to feel connected. I turn my attention to the problem and grimace. I’ve never loved math, but I’m pretty good at it and chichi (my dad) always tells me it’s good to work on the tallent. So I do, although I’d much rather draw or write.

~Mia

I walk into the classroom, and see Miya talking to a girl I haven't seen before. I walk over to my desk by Miya, and sit down to organise my orchestra binder for the thousandth time.

Miya looks over at me. "Again?"

I nod my head.

"Hania, this is Mia. Mia, this is Hania," Miya says. 

Hania shyly waves her hand, and I look over at her.

"Where are you from?"

She looks taken aback but clears her throat. "Syria."

I nod my head and go back to organising my binder. 

"How about you?" she tries. "Are you Japanese?"

(Yes.) "No," I reply. "Korean."

This conversation is going no where, so attempting to use social skills like my sister taught me, I end it by giving the excuse that I'm going to put away my cello.  

~Gabriella

I walk through the hallways of the school, and the little clink of my leg makes a beat on the the white tile. In the evening, I'll have soccer tryouts, and hopefully they won't put me on the team out of pity. 

Of course my brother will get team captain. When has he never not gotten that position? I might as well get the usual spot of goalie, where they don't want me to move around as much even though my leg is made for athletics.

Aspen catches up to me and gives me a light, "Hullo."

"Hey," I reply. "Did you go back to England this summer?"

"Yep!" she relies. "London. You didn't know that?"

"No," I reply. "But I'm going to Thames and London for winter break, so exciting for me."

"Cool! Anyway, I have to head to class or Ms. Awell will give me a detention. Catch you later!"

"You too," I reply.

And with another clink, I arrive at my math class, where the usual scene is occurring.