Around a week passed.
We got our textbooks in Latin class, complete with fun, colorful illustrations.
In math class, we'd begun the endless toil of learning about things for the test.
And the day of the gathering had arrived. When dropping me off, my parent
asked “When should I pick you up?” Not knowing what to expect, I responded to
just be at the ready.
When I got there, though, a strange realization dawned. This wasn’t a clique.
There were many different people here. There were some choir kids, some
popular people, some geeks, and some others. And we talked and ate pizza.
Then, I checked the time, and it was 10 PM. Four hours had passed. Checking
my phone, I had three texts from Mom. I asked one of the people there to drive
me home; they agreed. And once I got home, it dawned on me: Latin club is the
only club that is for everybody. I had gone to drama club, where I was looked
at funny because I wasn't a choir kid. In Quiz Bowl, I looked at some people
funny, since they'd never gone to a meeting, and didn't know the name of the
Swedish king who was repulsed by Peter the Great at the Battle of Poltava.
But in Latin Club, anyone could be an active member, and it was wonderful.
Since then, I've been an elected officer, and I've made sure that that feeling
doesn't die. That weird freshman flute girl? We're now friends. And while
other clubs have come and gone, I know that I'll be in Latin Club for the long
run.
14