There I was standing outside my new school waiting for the bell to ring. When it finally rang; I strolled up staircase and entered my new school for the first time. My mind was whirling with reflections of anxieties so much that I couldn't think straight. Where are my classes? Will I make new friends? Are my professors nice? What about lunch? Do I have a lunch ticket or do I not eat because I didn't bring my own lunch? Of course the fact that this new school was located in an upper-class neighborhood only added to my worries and led me to come up with some assumptions about my fellow classmates.
             My dad had made the decision that I when I began high school, I would attend Thomas Moore Prep (TMP) instead of Hays High. He wanted me to have better opportunities. In his research he felt that TMP would offer better student to teacher ratios, more enhanced studies, and a healthier atmosphere. He felt that Hays High had, "To many hooligans." I argued the typical teenager point, "All my friends are going to Hays High." My arguments and tears worked to no prevail.
             Once I gathered my thoughts, I found my first period, American history. The teacher, Mr. McLean, introduced me to the class and showed me to my seat. My second hour was gym; that is when I met a couple of girls, Becky and Nicole. When they walked up to me; I thought they were a little overdressed for physical education, but I should have expected that since my new school was in the "rich" neighborhood. While we were chatting, I made the assumption that they were both quite snobbish. I made a decision; that is this school I would keep to myself because I would never live up to their expectations.
             So as the day progressed, I was basically quiet and had shrunk back into my shell. It was seventh period; the final class of the day, Home Economics, and I was thinking to myself, "I gue
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