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Authors: Adena Halpern
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scrapped from the gym curriculum at the Friends School for generations to come due to its severe psychological and excruciatingly painful consequences. Needless to say, the kids didnât like me any better as a result. I honestly didnât care though. These kids werenât my type. Olivia Wilson and Kerry Collins and Dana Stanbury were perfect little girls with their perfect hair. They stood behind the basketball court and berated me about anything and everything. Those bitches teased me about my lunch with the four-square meal packed in four separate baggies and the way my blue and white Friends uniform was always wrinkle free, with my blue tube socks pulled perfectly all the way up. Bitches.
Seth Rosso and his twin brother, Tom, and Greg Rice used to pull at my pigtails. No, this wasnât because they liked me, as little boys sometimes do to little girls they like, this was because they truly hated the sight of me and I them. Boy, did I tell on them.
My mother finally instructed me to just ignore everyone and though it was hard, I did it. I read, I drew, I spoke to the teacher about great restaurants in the Philadelphia area. I was not about to let those losers bother me.
One day, though, the kids staged an all-out attack. They must have prepared for it given the roughness of the situation.
But the day they hoped would be the worst day of my life turned out to be one of the best. (Finally! Weâre getting to the second best day in my essay. Who knew I had so much to tell?)
This was the day I met my best and truest friend.
It was October. I was in the fourth grade. It was around nine in the morning, in homeroom, when Penelope Goldstein entered my life. I always sat in the front row (as if you couldnât have guessed that). The principal, Mrs. Macknicki, peeked into the classroom just as our teacher, Mrs. Hoffman, was finishing roll call.
âStudents,â Mrs. Macknicki announced, âwe have a new student joining the fourth grade this morning, and we should all welcome her. Penelope Goldstein just moved here from New York City.â
Thatâs when I looked up. I hadnât even noticed Mrs. Macknicki and Pen step in. I was too busy with the book I was reading, Are You There God? Itâs Me, Margaret âa classic.
I did look up at this point, though, not because it was going to do me any goodâI knew by now that no one was going to be my friendâbut because I had reached the end of my chapter and the class was suddenly silent, so it seemed like a good time to look. Then everyone started to laugh. It was a subtle giggle first, then a whispered guffaw, then full-on chuckling.
I wanted to laugh along with the other kids, but I didnât. Why was everyone laughing?
Iâm going to be blunt about this, because if Pen was here sheâd say the same thing. The kids were laughing because Penelope Goldstein was an extremely unattractive and odd-looking kid.
First of all, she was like five foot five. To be in the fourth grade and be five foot five was outrageous. No one was near Penâs height. I think she weighed like two hundred pounds, and if she didnât, she sure looked like she did. Pen had really greasy, curly, boring brown hair and round John Lennon glasses with gold frames. In her blue and white uniform, the Peter Pan collared blouse was tested by her rolls of stomach fat, and the pleated skirt looked more like a pencil skirt as it gave way to her thighs. Her dark blue kneesocks only made it halfway up her calf. Frankly, Pen looked like Frankensteinâs child (thatâs her joke by the way, not mine).
And all the other kids laughed, except meânot because I took an instant liking to her or was a better person, but because I couldnât be bothered.
âClass!â Mrs. Hoffman shouted as she banged on her desk, causing the room to fall into complete silence. âIs this the way we welcome new students? Not in my class! I expect you all to greet
Seth Rosso and his twin brother, Tom, and Greg Rice used to pull at my pigtails. No, this wasnât because they liked me, as little boys sometimes do to little girls they like, this was because they truly hated the sight of me and I them. Boy, did I tell on them.
My mother finally instructed me to just ignore everyone and though it was hard, I did it. I read, I drew, I spoke to the teacher about great restaurants in the Philadelphia area. I was not about to let those losers bother me.
One day, though, the kids staged an all-out attack. They must have prepared for it given the roughness of the situation.
But the day they hoped would be the worst day of my life turned out to be one of the best. (Finally! Weâre getting to the second best day in my essay. Who knew I had so much to tell?)
This was the day I met my best and truest friend.
It was October. I was in the fourth grade. It was around nine in the morning, in homeroom, when Penelope Goldstein entered my life. I always sat in the front row (as if you couldnât have guessed that). The principal, Mrs. Macknicki, peeked into the classroom just as our teacher, Mrs. Hoffman, was finishing roll call.
âStudents,â Mrs. Macknicki announced, âwe have a new student joining the fourth grade this morning, and we should all welcome her. Penelope Goldstein just moved here from New York City.â
Thatâs when I looked up. I hadnât even noticed Mrs. Macknicki and Pen step in. I was too busy with the book I was reading, Are You There God? Itâs Me, Margaret âa classic.
I did look up at this point, though, not because it was going to do me any goodâI knew by now that no one was going to be my friendâbut because I had reached the end of my chapter and the class was suddenly silent, so it seemed like a good time to look. Then everyone started to laugh. It was a subtle giggle first, then a whispered guffaw, then full-on chuckling.
I wanted to laugh along with the other kids, but I didnât. Why was everyone laughing?
Iâm going to be blunt about this, because if Pen was here sheâd say the same thing. The kids were laughing because Penelope Goldstein was an extremely unattractive and odd-looking kid.
First of all, she was like five foot five. To be in the fourth grade and be five foot five was outrageous. No one was near Penâs height. I think she weighed like two hundred pounds, and if she didnât, she sure looked like she did. Pen had really greasy, curly, boring brown hair and round John Lennon glasses with gold frames. In her blue and white uniform, the Peter Pan collared blouse was tested by her rolls of stomach fat, and the pleated skirt looked more like a pencil skirt as it gave way to her thighs. Her dark blue kneesocks only made it halfway up her calf. Frankly, Pen looked like Frankensteinâs child (thatâs her joke by the way, not mine).
And all the other kids laughed, except meânot because I took an instant liking to her or was a better person, but because I couldnât be bothered.
âClass!â Mrs. Hoffman shouted as she banged on her desk, causing the room to fall into complete silence. âIs this the way we welcome new students? Not in my class! I expect you all to greet
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