New Hope Encounter

When I first moved to Georgia, everything felt unfamiliar. The city buzzed with activity, but it was a hollow kind of noise that didn’t quite reach me, especially from where I came from. I moved to the city of Atlanta during their hot summer leaving behind the only home I’d ever known—a country where everyone greeted each other by name. Here, I was just another face in the crowd. Starting freshman year at a new high school in a whole new continent didn’t help either. Everyone already seemed to have their place, and I was the outsider trying to wedge myself in.

My first day riding the bus was nerve-wracking especially when I joined after a week of school My parents decided to drop off the first week. As I climbed on a Monday morning, the weight of unfamiliar stares pressed down on me. Rows of students sat in clusters, talking and laughing, their voices blending into a symphony of exclusivity. This event reminded me of the times I was with my friends. I shuffled to an empty seat near the middle and stared out the window, hoping no one would notice me. I noticed a girl who stood out to me because of her bubbly and professional way of dressing, with neatly dark braided hair and two bags that looked like they had everything in them. She scanned the seats and, to no shock she had friends who saved a seat for her.

After a week of school, our bus driver decided to assign us seats on the bus. Confidential, she became my seating partner. 

“Mind if I sit here?” She asked, with a voice casual but not unkind and I assumed she just did not want to sit near the window.

“Sure,” I mumbled, sliding closer to the window.

“I’m Jana,” she said, holding out a hand.

“Lina,” I replied hesitantly with an obvious difference in the accent, l shook her hand.

“New here?” she questioned.

It was such an obvious question that I almost laughed. “Yeah. Just moved her during the summer.”

“Figured. I know everyone on this bus, and you don’t look like one of them,” she said, grinning.

I wasn’t sure whether to feel insulted or amused, but something about her smile made it impossible to stay guarded.

For the rest of the ride, she stayed quiet and steered at her phone while I watched the roads move endlessly. That was my life for two more days. 

One day after school, I noticed her watching a drama I had watched before, gathered my courage, and asked her if she watched dramas like that often. She said she had been watching them for a while now leading to a conversation about our preferences on the drama and our interests. By the time we got to the neighborhood, we had exchanged numbers and I had found out she was a sophomore. By the time we pulled up to our neighborhood, I felt a small spark of something I hadn’t expected: hope. Since then we chatted about the school, and the teachers, tips to manage being in a new place and of course the dramas we both liked.

Jana continued to sit with me every morning, and before I knew it, I started to look forward to those rides. She had a way of making me feel like I belonged, even if the rest of the school still felt like foreign territory.

One day, after a particular morning, when I got a bad grade on a test I took the previous day and knowing I had strict parents, I felt depressed about it.

“Tough day?” Jana asked, noticing my sour mood.

“You could say that,” I replied, trying to shrug it off.

“Come on, spill it,” she pressed.

I hesitated but eventually told her about how I was struggling a little in class since the curriculums are different from my hometown and how I could not voice out my taught freely.

“Sounds like you need a change of scenery and perspective,” Jana said thoughtfully.

“Yeah, well, unless that scenery involves me moving back home where I can be comfortable doing anything, I don’t see it happening,” I muttered. Jana went on and explained to me how nothing good came easily. She opened up about her struggles and how she used that mindset to stay positive and work towards her goals.

“I guess I just learned to fake it until it felt real,” she said with a shrug. “But you? You don’t have to fake it. You’ve got something real about you.”

Her words stayed with me long after that day. He was my anchor, the one person who made Atlanta and school feel like home.

As months passed, our school decided to separate us since we were not in the same grade and put us on different buses. She introduced me to her friends, clubs that matched my interests, and classes I could take within my interests for credits. Unfortunately that year, we lost touch, it turned out she moved to a new neighborhood.

After months and months of school, a new school year started which started a new chapter for our friendship also. She started to work near my neighborhood so she began taking the bus with me every day after school again. Every time I was having a bad day and had to create a speech to join my first club, she preached, “You’ve got a sharp mind,” “You just need to stop hiding it.”

To my surprise, I made the club—and was able to enjoy using my voice more.

But it wasn’t just the big things that Jana helped me with. It was the little moments too: the way she’d text me jokes when she knew I was having a bad day, or how she’d save me a seat on the bus when I was late.

Even though we were both still in high school at this time, Jana and I had become inseparable even though we only got the chance to talk to each other well after school. She was a sister that I had in school just like I used to have in my old country, the person who taught me how to find strength in vulnerability. Jana taught me how to stand on my feet and appreciate my differences. 

She changed, is changing, and will change my life forever—and I’ll always be grateful.