The Aspergerian Secret Society

"They had no right to send me away. All I wanted to do was have fun; if playing with toys and watching cartoons was wrong, then I don't want to be right.

Yet they ordered mom and dad to force me to "grow up" and start acting like a 13-year-old girl or else they would haul me off to a sanitarium. So here I am in New York, trying to get by on my wits alone."

When 13-year-old Anais Johanssen is sent from Suntown, Illinois to New York, New York following an incident at her school, she's sure her life is over. Her parents (who sent her away) tolerated her life choices, which makes the betrayal worse. When she goes to high school and is introduced to the Aspergerian Secret Society, she's pleased to know that she found a group of people who understand her.

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2. Chapter 5

I found myself standing in the halls of John F. Kennedy High School; the school is large, has a quaint atmosphere, and a futuristic look. Overall the school has a bad reputation, which is starting to change thanks to a new principal. Also, a local painter once donated to it and it was one of the filming locations for a well-known fantasy movie. Recently, the school's guitar club organized a community project.

As I saw students walking through the school, I chanced to see a portrait of the school's namesake hanging in the school's atrium. I frowned, knowing that while the school was named after the president who never should have been shot to death to begin with, the school has done nothing to earn that name. After all, I was sent from a nice and friendly small town to the big city, where people aren’t as friendly as you think.

I wanted to go to New York when I was younger, but now that I’m there, I find the place rather…lacking.

Anyway, I go to the principal's office and received my class schedule. The classes were as follows:

First period: Algebra 1
Second period: English 1
Third period: Oceanography
Fourth period: Physical Education
Fifth period: Drama
Sixth period: German 1
Seventh period: World History 1000-1699
Eighth period: Social Skills

As I’m looking at my schedule, I wondered to myself why would I need to take eight different classes every day? The schedule alone seemed unnecessary and excessive. But who am I to complain about taking eight classes when I’m looking around and seeing students smoking, drinking, and getting into fights? I already knew what to expect when I got to high school, no thanks to Mads and my other cousins, so why should I be shocked?

Anyway, as I'm going down the halls towards my first class, I chanced to see a group of kids standing in front of what appeared to be a door. They were all wearing gray jackets with some design on the back. Their hoods were drawn over their heads and their backs were turned to me, so I couldn't see their faces.

I began to feel unsettled, as I knew that people in large groups who hide their faces were nothing but trouble. Big Brother had always warned me about gangs; he claimed that those kind of people loved to shove nerds into lockers and push people around. They always disrupted the class with their awful behavior and disrespected the teachers.

Well, I didn't want to disappoint Big Brother, but I also didn't want people to think I was weird for not talking to them. I'm already learning that lesson from the principal, who told me that "if I didn't learn to shape up and be more social, I would spend the next four years in the special ed classroom".

And that's the last thing I wanted.

Anyway, I walked past the strange group of students and headed straight for class, where I gave my schedule to the teacher and went to take my seat. I usually sat in the back row, far from the teacher's desk, which was where most kids refused to sit. I've already mentioned that I didn't want to be bothered with the other students.

Well, as luck would have it, the other kids stared at me, as if I was some new toy that nobody knew if they wanted it. Some of the boys had huge fake smiles on the faces while the girls grimaced. I reached the back row and slid into my seat, relieved that so far, nobody really noticed me.

But that would change.

The boy next to me said, "you can't sit here."

"Why not?" I said.

"because that's where he puts his bookbag," said the boy in front of him.

i snorted, wondered who reserves a seat just for their bookbag. I stared at the first boy for a second, hoping he would move his bag, but he didn't budge. Finally, a black boy stood up and marched to the back, where he pushed the first boy's bag off the seat and into the coat closet.

"Hey, what did you do that for?" said he first boy.

"I did that because you're being a jerk like you always are, Frederick," said the black by. "Now let her have the seat or else I'll tell your girlfriend that you hooked up with that one boy from that private school at that party last week."

"All right, Barack, don't make a big deal out of it," said the boy named Frederick. "Besides, I was going to let her have the seat..."

"You mean the seat that's in front of the garbage can?" said a girl in the front of the classroom.

"Come on, Fred, why can't you just do what Barack Obama says and give her the damn seat?" said another boy. "We ain't got all day!"

Fine," said Frederick as he pushed the seat in a previously empty spot. To the boy, he said, "You're gonna be sorry."

As I took my seat, the boy who the other kids called Barack Obama said to me, "And when you get tired of dealing with these stupid kids, come find me."

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