I could feel the heat on my cheeks instantaneously. I knew that my hands were burning and I was pretty sure there was blood. I didn’t want to look at my hands and knees to see how much, but rather stood up and grabbed my backpack and looked around to see who witnessed my fall. Several older girls were just entering the quad and I saw Tatum lean over and giggle to a friend, but they immediately climbed on top of one of the picnic tables and began talking to one another. I may have been a source of amusement to her, but at least my show was very temporary – she seemed to move on.

Finally, assured nobody else saw, I took inventory of the damage I’d done to my body, satisfied that the damage to my ego was in a range I could handle. My hands were skinned and bright pink, small scratches from my wrists to my palms. My knees fared far worse. The right knee had a flap of skin bunched in a line, like I had peeled a puffy sticker from my kneecap and left it there to dangle. The blood wasn’t dripping, but it was there and it was only a matter of time. The left knee was a little better, though not much.

I knew I had to clean things up. Deep down, I blamed the slipper-style shoes I was now wearing and skirt. If I were wearing my normal clothes, I don’t think this would have happened. I walked to the nurse’s area, right next to the bustling office, and asked if she had any band-aids and alcohol pads.

“Oh honey, what happened,” said a large woman wearing jeans and a paisley button-up shirt. She had a badge on that said ‘Nurse Carol’ – but that was the only thing about her that looked like a traditional school nurse.

“I fell, out in the quad. I’m fine, I just need to clean things up some,” I said, a little sheepishly.

“I should say so, you’re about to drip blood on my new carpet,” she pulled my backpack to get me through the lobby of her office and into a small station in the back. There was a sink and a cabinet on one side and a padded table on the other. She told me to take a seat and started to pull out bandages from the cabinet.

“I really don’t need all of those,” I protested. The last thing I needed was something that would draw even more attention to my blunder. I just wanted to find a way to cover it up with makeup and move on. But I guess that really wasn’t an option.

“I tell you what? You just let me do the nursing now, and if things feel better around lunch time, you can rip off my band-aids and pretend none of this ever happened, OK?” she said in a way that felt like my mother.

“OK,” was about all I could muster.

I winced as she cleaned things out and then put some ointment and bandages over each knee. My hands were cleaned and didn’t have any serious damage. In a matter of minutes she had me back up and on my feet, heading out through the crowded office area. I kept my head down, hoping I could just get back to the quad without anyone noticing my giant wounds. And because I was looking down, the first thing I saw were his shoes.

“Wooahhh, I almost took your head off there,” Reed spoke, like we never met. His eyes met mine and he put on the most charming smile, a dimple on one side of his cheek. I could smell the gum in his mouth.

“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. My bad,” My bad? Really … did I just say that? I was so flustered at having a conversation with him, and I had no idea why. My first encounter with Reed Johnson resulted in a good three-hour crying fest while I soaked in the tub at home. I didn’t owe him anything.

“You OK? Your bandage is coming off?” he said as he bent down and, with one finger, popped the over-sized swath of cotton that Nurse Carol had tapped to my leg back in place. I was mortified.

“Oh, thanks. Yeah, I sort of had an accident.” Oh god, realizing that sounds like I peed my pants, I corrected, “I mean, I fell.” It was just getting worse. I needed to shut up, and leave.

“Well, be careful. You don’t want one of those wrapped around your head,” he laughed, swirling his finger around his head to mimic a wrapped bandage, but not in a poking-fun-of-me sort of way.

“Good point,” I said, smiling back and swinging my way through the door to the school hallway. He smiled back and turned around, his backpack flung over one shoulder in that perfect sort of way.

That was weird. Clearly, he doesn’t recognize me. Of course, why would he. He doesn’t really know me. I am being neurotic.

My feet were getting blisters, and school had barely started. Knowing I had the back-up Converse in my backpack, I made a plan to stop at my locker before third period. Morning homeroom, which was my math class, was great. I knew most everyone in the class and it was algebra, which I had basically already aced in junior high. I also had my best friends, Sienna and Sarah, in there with me. Truly a great way to start every day. Second period was a bit tougher, English. It looked like I would have a lot of reading to complete this year. I was looking forward to my third period—intro to science.