There I was in my new homeroom classroom on the first day of school. I passed to the 7th grade with not one grade lower than an A-. I looked around the classroom recognizing faces I’ve seen for the past eight years at I.S.306, the school I attended that was three blocks away from my home in Bronx, NY.
As I was looking around I strangely saw one unfamiliar face of a light-skinned boy with hazel eyes and straight, light brown hair in a shape of a mushroom. He must have been the cutest boy in the class. As I observed him talking to his friends, he seemed friendly, he kept making a lot of jokes so he seemed funny, and I knew he was smart, because our class was the second smartest class out of the whole 7th grade.
Of course, I being the shiest girl in the class who never spoke or raised my hand in class did not have the courage to exchange words with the boy. Then again I doubted he would want to talk to me considering I was a tomboy.
My outfit always consisted of very baggy blue jeans that were so big on me, I would have to use a thick belt and tighten it really tight, so high above my waist, it covered my belly button. I switched between wearing a green, yellow, or orange button down, long sleeve collar shirt, which I buttoned all the way to the top, and wore the oldest, torn up pair of New Balance sneakers that seemed too big for my feet. Every inch of my body was covered only exposing my tiny little head full of dark brown, “want to be straight,” shoulder length hair that was too big to even try and comb in the morning. I was obviously not the most attractive girl in the class, so I knew right away Arnando would never lay eyes on me.
I figured he liked the other girls in my class who were always in style. They wore tight, top designer jeans, tight matching shirts, wore the latest footwear that matched perfectly with their outfit, and wore nice hair that probably took them at least half an hour every morning to get done.
I would come to school every day looking the same as I did since kindergarten. My daily routine being walking to school by myself, coming in to class and sitting in my assigned seat, right across from Arnando who looked cuter every day I saw him. Still not saying one word whatsoever, I prayed for the day to be over so I could go back home, by myself, and count the days left for the weekend to come so I could go to my Aunt Oneida’s house as I do every weekend, and hang out with my cousin Gladys. Gladys was the complete opposite of me. She was the most popular girl in her school. She had the looks, the smarts, and the personality, which is embarrassing for me, because she is a year younger. Despite that we were so different, she was still the person I felt most comfortable talking to. I would tell her about Arnando and the struggle I was going through in trying to get him to notice me.
Finally the weekend came and I went to Aunt Oneida’s house as usual. Gladys really wanted to go shopping, her favorite hobby, so Aunt Oneida took us to the shopping center in Parkchester. As I was looking around the junior section where all the designer clothing such as PePe jeans, Marc Ecko, Enyce, and so on, I spotted a pair of dark blue jeans that had little rhinestones on the back pockets in a butterfly shape. Aunt Oneida saw me looking at the pair of jeans which she thought were really nice and told me to try them on. I said, “I don’t want to try them on. Besides they don’t have my size.” Aunt Oneida looked at the jeans, “These are size 7, they will fit you perfectly.” I knew the pants were going to fit me tighter than the regular pairs of jeans I owned, but I tried them on so Aunt Oneida would stop insisting. I came out the fitting room to see both Aunt Oneida’s and Gladys’s jaw drop at the sight of me. “Mi hija, those jeans really bring out your curves. Now you look like a true Dominican girl.” Aunt Oneida said. Gladys was so excited, she ran out and came back with a shirt she thought would go along with the jeans. I tried on the pink v-neck, short sleeve shirt, which had matching rhinestones spelling out “Angel” on the front. I looked in the mirror and I couldn’t believe how different I looked. I thought I looked pretty good. Aunt Oneida was so excited that she bought the outfit. She even volunteered to do my hair, which she washed and straightened. It took her at least three hours, but I was happy to see my hair look so straight and long.
As I arrived home on Sunday night, I felt excited to wear my new outfit the next day and at the same time, nervous to know if Arnando might talk to me now that I had a new look. I was really hoping he would notice me and would talk to me and eventually become friends.
I awoke Monday morning to start my daily routine. I walked to school, this time wearing my hair down and my new outfit. As I walked inside homeroom, I felt all eyes were on me. I was hearing everyone in the class whispering to the person next to them, and I knew they were talking about me, because their eyes were on me, but they leaned forward with one hand covering their mouth so one can't read their lips. I was so nervous I couldn’t stop fidgeting. I quietly sat down in my seat across from Arnando, who usually always turned his back to me to talk to his friends. This time he faced forward smiling at me.
"What‘s up?" I stumbled to say while hearing my heart pounding so loud, I couldn’t hear myself think. "Nothing, what’s up with you?" Arnando said. “Nothing…how are you?” I managed to say after a few seconds. "I'm good, just wanting this day to be over so I can play baseball after school," he said. I was happy he mentioned baseball, because it's always been my favorite sport. That day I found out we both liked the same baseball team and player; Derek Jeter from the New York Yankees. The conversation went from what we do after school to our favorite television show to our favorite food, which was green plantains with fried eggs, salami, and white Dominican cheese. We found out we had a lot of things in common. The day went by so fast, before I knew it, he was walking me back home. I didn't even notice until we were outside my building door.
I remember him telling me he didn't know I was so cool and that he should have spoken to me earlier in the school year. I told him I always wanted to talk to him, but I was too shy and nervous he wouldn't want to talk back to me. He said he will see me tomorrow and I waved and repeated the same back to him.
The next day I went back to school wearing my regular everyday outfit to school, but I still looked decent, because my hair still looked nice. I sat in my seat, I said hello to Arnando and he said hello back, and we continued talking regularly as we did the previous day. As the days went by, he continued walking me home. He even took me to play baseball with him and his friends, which I really enjoyed, even though I was not as great as the other players.
Eventually I changed my image and wore nicer clothes. By the time I was in eighth grade, I became one of the most popular girls in my grade and continued to be one all throughout high school. I acted like all popular girls do; I was snobby, really stuck up, only stayed with one group of friends, and I cared a lot about my look and reputation. I mostly did this to get guys to like me and to fit in, but at some point I remembered my tomboy years, and I realized that the way I looked had nothing to do with a boy liking me or not. My day of looking pretty was just something that boosted my confidence for me to act like myself. So instead of caring so much about my image, I started acting like myself and I was accepted for that.