The Perks of Being a Wallflower

So today we ate inside (well, everyone else ate inside, I "eat" when I get home) because it was cold and wet out. I have this friend-- well, at least *I* considered her a friend-- named Tabby. She's a sophomore, a year below me, and has been part of our group since she was a freshman. I hug her at least once a day because she's such a good hugger. I really did, and, well, I guess I still do, consider her a friend.

But today during lunch she and Aly were hugging and wanted me to join in.
"Sammi! Come here!" She said, holding out her arm, then laughed and said, "Wow, that's the first time I've remembered your name."

I kind of stood there dumbstruck for a moment. What? Then we hugged.
"It only took you two years," said Aly.
"Well, more like a year and a half," said Tabby.

This really disturbed me. I honestly considered her a good friend and it never occurred to me that she might not know my name! How would you like it if you blended in with the walls so well that you'd have to hang out with someone for a year and a half in order for them to remember your name?

Something similar happened a few minutes later, only it was with someone I wasn't quite as close to and who had only just started hanging out with our group this year. What bothered me was that she asked the person next to her what my name was even though I was standing right in front of her and she could've asked me.

I never wanted to spend high school as that person who just kind of passes through and isn't remembered and doesn't get any fun out of anything, but it looks like that just might be who I'm turning out as.

I hate being a wallflower.