The day I've been waiting for my entire life is here.

  Today is my first day of high school.

  I wake up at 4:30 a.m., even though I know I don’t have to leave the house until 5:45. I just need time, so I’m not rushed. I turn off my beeping arm clock, get out of bed, pick out my outfit, brush my teeth, sweep my room, and then realize I might’ve given myself too much time.

  So, I start rereading a book from my bookshelf just to calm my nerves.

  Twenty minutes pass and I’m zoned out, staring at the blurred words on the page, when I realize it’s 5:40. Time to wake my dad.

  Oh god.

  High school itself isn’t what’s got me on edge. Now that I'm here I can't even begin to understand why younger me was literally dreaming of this day. My nerves are coming from the type of high school I’m going to: a STEM-based early college high school. I know that the school is going to be full of kids my age smarter than me.

  I worked hard to get here—with my strong application essay and straight A’s in middle school—but it hits me: I won't be the smartest person in the room anymore. I would be lying if I said that didn't bother me.

  It's intimidating.

  But, going to this school is good for my future. It’ll open doors my base school never could. My parents would never let me back out now, not after how proud they were when I got in.

  I tell myself: don’t give up just because other people are smart. Learn from them. Get challenged. I definitely was not challenged in middle school, it seriously baffled me when I would hear how low so many people’s grades were.

  Like honestly, at that point, there's no way you're even trying.

  “What if there are no cute guys at this nerdy school?” I find myself wondering. It only has 200 students. Smart people can be cute too though. It’s not like I’m ugly.

  I wake up my dad. He groans but gets up.

  I grab my bag and head out while he throws on some pants and a shirt. I spray on some perfume, grab my shoes, and wait by the stairs.

  I want this to start already, but part of me just wants to hit pause.

  I fight with my thoughts, telling myself I can do this and my dad finally walks down the stairs.

  “Ready?” he asks.

  I nod with a nervous smile. We walk out the door and head to the car.

  The nice warm summer morning air hits me and actually kind of calms me a little. It’s early August—my school starts a month before most, for some reason. My dad drives me to my bus stop, which is 15 minutes away. Since my school takes students from all over the county, they can’t exactly stop at every single neighborhood. So, they have what they call “Express stops” that are in certain areas all over the county.

  When we pull up, I see a huge crowd of teenagers.

  Will we all even fit? I wonder.

  We sat in the car quietly. I don’t want the “You nervous?” or “How do you feel?” small talk. I just want to get this over with.

  The bus finally pulls up. I hug my dad goodbye.

  “Have a good first day!” he says.

  I smile and get out.

  Here we go.

  The bus is packed. I’ve never seen a school bus this full before. Every seat is taken, and I’m forced to ask someone if I can sit with them—something I hate doing. I was hoping for a seat to myself, but thinking back to the crowd at the stop… that was delusional.

  I sit next to a girl wearing a pid skirt and a polo. She’s probably from a women’s academy. I also spot guys in khakis and polos—another school. So now I know this express bus carries students from multiple schools, not just mine.

  I pop in my AirPods and zone out, fighting the urge to fall asleep so I don’t show up with eye bags on Day One.

  After 30 minutes, we finally arrive… at a different high school?

  It’s a big, prison-looking L-shaped brick building. Who makes a school like this…

  The bus stops, and I get off. A teacher tells me to find a sign with my school’s name on it.

  Wait—I have to get on another bus? Nice…

  There’s a huge crowd of teenagers near the entrance. I see quite a few guys with facial hair and a lot of girls with makeup.

  I will never understand the unnecessarily long fake shes and the 10-pound concealer mask….

  I walk past multiple signs until I find mine —it’s at the very end of the school, the st sign.

  Of course.

  I get on my second bus.

  Now, I’m finally headed to my genius-filled high school.