Tomorrow is my first day of school. My body is making it pretty obvious I don’t want togo. I'm sweating like crazy and my stomach feels like I have a bird trapped inside. Thisyear I'm at a new school on the other side of the country even though it feels like a worldaway from where I used to live. I miss my old house desperately, the big blue ocean rightoutside our small yellow home. But above all that, I’m a completely different person thanI was last year.Mom drives me to school that next day. She’s all dressed up like it's her first day ofschool. She hasn’t found a job here yet. In Maine she worked at a cute little book shop.She loved that job, when we moved away she said it was fine and she’d find an evenbetter job. Turns out there aren’t a lot of cute Maine book shops in California (what asurprise).“Now honey” I snap back into reality “I'll be just a block away so if you need me just callok.” I agree even though I know I won't call.I walk into the big brick school I will be spending the next two years in. There arehundreds of kids chatting and slowly walking to class with their friends . The bell ringsand it's way too loud to be a junior high bell. It sounds like an aggressive fire alarm.“God” I whisper to myself. The bell screams signaling the start of the home room.Once I finally find my Homeroom , I quickly slip in through the door. The teacher noticesme and smiles. “Hello.” He says kindly he’s short for a grown man with dark brown hair,and a blue button down with corduroys. This makes me feel underdressed. I look downat my light pink hoodie and Jean shorts with my long hair tied up in a messy ponytail .Whoops.I quickly walk to the only open desk. “Hello, I’m Mr. green. What’s your name” he looksdown at his attendance sheet. “Maddie,” I mutter. I immediately become self-conscious.It took me months to find the perfect name for me. I loved it. “Maddie.” My grandpa said“it’s a beautiful name.”In Maine my own dad didn’t support me and I didn’t care but now I care about what abunch of random teenagers think of me. “I mean, Ben.” I say sadly.For some reason my dead name just slipped out of me like I’m ashamed of the new me.After a long homeroom of playing ice breaker games, Mr. Green, my homeroom teachercalled me up to his desk. “Hello Ben, welcome to Baker. I see your name listed asMaddie and I just wanted to check what you’d prefer to go by Maddie or Ben.” I paused.Those words sounded so sincere, not judgmental. I wonder whether I should tell Mr.Green the truth, that I had said my old name because I was afraid that people wouldjudge me and i’ll regret being the real me. he said something the that would change myentire experience at Baker junior high: “don’t be afraid to be yourself, Ben,” he said,looking me straight in the eye. “My name is Maddie.” He nods, smiling.The rest of those years at baker junior high I went by my true name, and school wasn’tas bad as I thought in California. I even made some friends and my mom got the perfectjob at the public library. I guess sometimes change is good.Change by Andrew