As the horn was blaring, I can clearly remember the 400 meter sprint to the big yellow bus, zipper of my winter jacket undone, allowing the intrusive November air to assault my lungs and throat. If you have ever ran the 400 meter, you know -- it's not pretty. Hands clenched onto the straps of my backpack that was stuffed full to capacity, breath embarrassingly heavy, hair no longer well kept. Unfortunately, the temperature change from cold to hot doesn't cure a red face or sweaty pours. Just what a girl with self esteem issues needs in grade 10. I slump into the third from the back seat -- the very back seat was reserved for grade twelves. Seniority. I eased my backpack onto the floor and fell into my seat. Luckily, the guy I had a crush on didn't get on for about ten minutes.

High School, for me, was a bit like OFF in the mouth. Not the worst thing that could happen, but definitely unpleasant. I won't say that I got beat up or bullied, because I didn't. I was just one of those shy, introverted kids who rarely spoke up in class -- or at all for that matter. Confidence didn't come easy. It's not that I had a massive acne problem or a speech impediment, I just wasn't that outgoing at school. In fact, even though my class only consisted of ten people, I was only friends with one of them. When she wasn't at school, it was terrible. School itself wasn't bad, it was the breaks. I would lurk the hallways alone. Pretend to work on an assignment. Eat slower than usual. I would spend extra time in the washroom.

I said probably five sentences to that kid on the bus I had a crush on. One time, after he got his brand new Chevy, I told him he should give me a ride home. I may have said this on msn. For whatever reason, he said he would. The next day, after I nervously contemplated whether or not my dream would come true, surely enough as I was leaving he asked if I was coming with him. I did. We barely spoke on the five minute ride home, and I never asked again. He never offered. Guess the chemistry wasn't there.

After I graduated, I took off from the vicinity of the small town I grew up by into the big city of Regina. Yes, big city, that's what I said. I started fresh, made friends more easily, and shook off some of the bad habits of high school. Once you make your personality known at one place, it's hard to shake it. You're programmed to be that person. I always wanted to break free of my shy-girl stereotype, but it never happened. Moving away gives opportunity to try out a new side of yourself.

Recently I attended a wedding near my home town and met up with some of the people I used to go to school with. I saw that guy, that one who gave me a ride in his green Chevy truck with his sound system and long hair and green eyes and white Adidas.

I didn't talk to him.