Welcome? Who, me?

I'm terrified of the high school entrance exams. I've heard of girls not getting accepted anywhere and I'm just positive that I will be one of them. They don't even need the exams; they can see from my report cards that I'm a flop. But I've been trying really hard lately and I really have no choice, so I put one foot in front of the other and stick really close to the other girls from my eighth-grade class.

When we finally reach the high school doors, it starts feeling more exciting than frightening. Girls dash purposefully to and fro everywhere, their uniforms so much more sophisticated than our elementary ones. Everything is different, new, maybe here I can finally start fresh, where no one knows me.

I sweat through pages and pages of test, blanking out a lot but writing things anyway. Guessing wherever there's a choice. Rambling on to fill up the essay page, how wrong could that be! Finally it's over and my mother's here to drive us home. She comes inside to offer my sister a ride home, but she's not ready to leave yet. Meanwhile I listen to my classmates comparing notes with mounting dread -- were we even taking the same test?!

As we head out, an important-looking fellow greets my mother with a huge smile.
"Well, what's this? Another daughter! What a pleasure, any daughter of yours is welcome here!" This man who will no doubt be my principal next year goes on for another few minutes (years?) about how great my sister is and how wonderful it will be to have another one of her. In fact, they're thinking of making her a chessed head next year because she's so nice and helpful besides for being such a fabulous student. And they're sure they can expect great things from me, too.

When we're finally released, the fear is gone. And so is the excitement of starting clean.