In a room full of people, I somehow found you.

It was the first day of high school. I was a small fourteen year old girl. A few miles down the road, my junior high friends sat together and laughed together. However, I was alone. I stood at the entrance to the cafeteria blocking out the sounds of kids screaming, chip bags being popped open, and sodas being drunk. I felt like an ant walking through a crowd at a Beyonce concert.

Subconsciously, my feet began to walk and I felt myself move. After five minutes, most of the kids in the lunchroom had sat down and I was still standing. Not wanting to draw more attention to myself, I pulled the typical kid-in-a-movie and ate lunch in the bathroom. Yes, I too thought that only happened in the movies.

Day two, I found some acquaintances from Kennedy. There’s a reason your acquaintances are not the person you call when you’re lonely and that day I found out why. It was the most awkward and uncomfortable fifty minutes of my life. I sat with my hair covering my face in an attempt to hide my rosy cheeks.

Day three, I found some friends. They were the school friends, the ones you say hi to in the hallway and feel comfortable sitting next to in class but would never call to hang out after school. I thought this was a perfect chance for new beginnings and thus I decided to stay at this table.

The only problem? A big, scary demon: FMP.

Every single person at this new table had a different FMP day than me. Every Tuesday and Friday for the first half of the lunch period, I sat alone.

This trend continued for a few weeks, with me attempting to find new tables and never quite finding where I fit in. The best way to explain my emotions was that I felt like a white crayon: unwanted and useless.

Eventually, I found my way back to the table I sat at on my third day of school. I felt comfortable enough to tell the people at my table about my current situation and, to my surprise, their faces lit up.

“No way!” I remember them saying. “We know someone in that same situation!”

Soon enough, they nudged a quiet girl at the end of the table. She had brown hair in a tight braid that rested on her left shoulder. We made eye contact and smiled a nervous smile.

“She has been sitting in the library on days when we have FMP because she also knows no one,” the friend was saying.

“Hi, I’m Ellie,” the shy girl said. From that moment on, I knew we’d be best friends.

Reflecting back, I am so grateful that I stepped out of my comfort zone and met someone new. Ellie has made the most profound impact on my life, one that will last forever. She has helped me through my tough times and I hope to help her through hers. What we have is a wonderful friendship and I look forward to spending time with her every day.

As someone who experienced bullying and felt alone very often, words cannot express my thankfulness for Ellie. From binging on white trash reality TV shows (Bridal Plasty!) to shopping for Christmas presents to each other’s dogs to our deep conversations with each other’s families, I couldn’t have ever asked for a better best friend and I love the unique way we first met.