I hate this part. The waiting. I’ve been packed for days now. I can’t wait but I don’t want to go either. My stomach is in a knot! Isn’t it supposed to get easier?

I should be used to it by now, I guess. Six different schools by the age of 17, thank you very much. Making friends is easy. Keeping friends, well, that’s a different story. I smile at you, my eyebrows raised. I am listening, I am interested in you.

Mom brings me a cup of coffee as I watch TV. I don’t even know what is on when she speaks so I turn it off. It feels like she’s worried for me but she doesn’t want to say. I smile at her, a real smile.

My mind begins to wander over the events and some of the non-events of last year. Will he be there? WIll she? I sigh and look out the window at my side. A gentle patter begins to fall.

Two more days, two more days…