Narrative - The Two Jews (Joos)

Looking back on those days in middle school, I wonder how I could have lived without her. I never really believed in a blessing but Jenna Joo sure comes to the closest encounter with one.
The day started like every other, getting teased by Kelly Wilson, the punk who compensated for his short stature by bullying girls. Homeroom was a bummer with him there. He’d sit across the table and pretend to be revving a motorcycle. “Vroom, vroom…” Kelly thought this was hilarious because I rode my bicycle to school and pulled my brother on his skateboard. As a little girl and a recovering crybaby, I couldn’t help but take it personally. One day, actually, I got so unnerved by his inane jeering, I grabbed him up by the shirt collar and demanded he stopped. The sly bastard just shrugged me off and replied, “Hey, hey, I got a girlfriend.”
The day progressed as it does and classes made no impression on my young mind as I gazed out windows daydreaming about the glorious hours of freedom after school. Occasionally, I’d catch a glimpse of Mr. Moody, the vice principal, telling boys to pull up their pants and girls to pull down their shirts. “Your chonies are showing,” he’d say or, “I’ll send you to the principal, Little Missy.” The male staff were always to afraid to say anything to the girls who had no decency, except for Mr. Moody.
Last class of the day was P.E. or rather PU. Our locker rooms were crammed like sardines in a can and didn’t smell much better either. I never found out why but I was the target of one girl in the class, Christina Rodriguez. She enjoyed harassing me so much, that day she had somehow found her way into my locker and was sharing my lotion with her friends, not to mention right in front of me.
P.E. was taught by Ms. Lyerla, emphasis on the Ms. She was always telling us, girls, to protect our “ta-tas” in touch football, soccer, even golf. It wasn’t just a rumor; she was a lesbian and the only thing we wanted to protect our “ta-tas” from was her.
The whistle was blown and we were all out on the field now, stretching for the day’s sport: basketball. A dark-skinned boy strolled to my side and whispered that his friend, Pablo, like my “you-know-what”. Embarrassed, I looked at him like he was nuts and walked to the side of the group that was only girls. That wasn’t much relief because soon after, some ditzy blonde girl asked me where my ankles were. Confused, I looked down and realized for the first time, my Achilles tendons didn’t protrude like everyone else’s. From that day on, despite the discomfort of the humid California summers, I would only wear pants.
Before basketball, we ran around the four baseball diamonds and something tragic happened, pessimistically in my favor however. My friend, Samantha, had always had problems with asthma but the teachers never tolerated anything less for her than for the rest of us when it came to running. She was clinging to the fence, gasping for air, and as I ascended upon her, she had already collapsed and began to seizure. Another girl and I helped her up and yelled across the field for Ms. Lyerla, who came galloping to our voices. We were told to bring her to the front office and find her inhalers. Like I’d written before, this was very fortunate for me in that I could now be clear of any further persecution for having mutated ankles.
After we brought her to the office, we were asked to leave and the two of us snuck into the locker rooms and got dressed way before the bell rang. We relaxed on the locker room benches and that’s when I realized I had never seen this girl before.
“Are you new here? I don’t think I’ve seen you before,” I said, looking at her curiously.
She didn’t speak much English but she did manage to say she was from South Korea and that her name was Joo-Jieun, Jenna Joo in English. It wasn’t very surprising seeing as her face was wide and her eyes slanted upwards as if she were always smiling. Indeed a awfully friendly face. With only a half an hour to go till school was over, we discussed what her home country was like, where she lived now, why she came here, and I supervised her English the entire time.
Apparently, she had enjoyed her time in Seoul but she said, “It was like concrete mountain. There were no tree, like they are here in the U.S. It become very cold in wintertime, and snow a lot. My oma (mom) and opa (dad) work at Mexican restaurant and I must work there on weekend.”
It also turned out she lived a block away from me and hadn’t met many friends at the school yet. The bell finally rang, and as she walked on the sidewalk, I rode in the street toward our houses. When I got to mine, she asked, “Will you ride bike tomorrow if I bring mine?”
“Wait, you have a bike? Why didn’t you ride it today?”
“Oma gave me ride,” she explained. “I love to ride bike though. Like in Seoul.”
From that day on, Jenna and I had ridden our bikes to school from seventh to eleventh grade, that is until we both got cars. Then we would take turns driving each other to school or tennis practice or yearbook conventions. Kelly Wilson never stopped teasing me but it didn’t matter anymore to me. Christina Rodriguez became pregnant at age fifteen and dropped out of high school, but I didn’t hold a grudge. I was too busy running Key Club as president and Jenna as vice president. I was too overjoyed with helping Jenna on her English and her parents at their restaurant. I was too happy writing captions to Jenna’s pictures for the school yearbook. A friend and a blessing indeed. She was my 제일 친한 친구, my best friend.