Good Morning, Sunshine – prt. 6 April 12, 2008

It was Tuesday when he finally called—right as I was about to leave with Annie for the bus. He asked if I wanted a ride. I said I’d pay for one. He laughed.

So it was five minutes after Annie left that he pulled up. In a Mercedes Cabriolet. I almost died. That is a ridiculously hot car. He laughed as I stared, asked if I really thought only New Yorkers were rich. I just sat in that car and smiled. I told him most people didn’t have actual cars—not that we really saw or used. I was used to limo’s more than I was Lamborghinis. And I told him I guess I had taken him for a mini-van kind of family. That made him laugh. Turns out his dad is a partner at a law firm and they live down here for his mom—she didn’t want to leave the suburbs. But that didn’t mean she wanted to be a suburbia statistic.

I guess he was scared I would think of him as a spoiled brat because he told me that his parents didn’t just hand the wealth to them—they had to earn it. He said the car was for getting accepted to Cornell but that they were gonna sell it after he left. I told him that was cool, but I didn’t really feel the need for an explanation—it was a beautiful car and I have been handed everything in my life, so why would I judge him on his wealth. That was slightly awkward I must admit, but he just smiled. That’s when we pulled up to the school, but before I could get out he asked if I wanted to ditch. He laughed when he saw my face, said maybe that was a bit suburbia but, hey, live a little. And it was just math with Annie—and Jenny. So I said yes; call me wicked.

In my entire life, I never missed a day of school just to miss school. I’ve missed for parties, trips and sickness but never just to cut class. It was exciting; rebellious. People might think rich snobs are always rebellious, but they’re not. They don’t have time to be. There’s always shopping, travelling, partying—every thing that keeps you from disrespecting your parents. After all, they do the same thing. Some manage to get into things there parents wouldn’t necessarily condone, but they don’t spend enough time at home to condemn it. And ditching class would hardly be one of those things. It really was so suburbia. But it was fun. Really fun.

We drove to some movie theater with the top down. That wasn’t so fun at first. All I could think about was my hair. I had curled it. He seemed to notice my discomfort cuz he told me not to worry–I still looked beautiful. No guy had ever told me that before. Well, my dad had. And I’d been whistled at people have told me I’m hot–mostly the older perves at the bars in NYC. But never had any guy told me I was beautiful. It was…sweet. Surprisingly so. I mean, I didn’t need someone to tell me that–I knew it. Not like in a snotty way, I just knew it. But still, I probably blushed. And he laughed.

Then we went to the theatre. We had to pretend to be older cuz there was a sign talking about teens not being let in during school hours–guess this was the hot spot to go to when ditching. But that wasn’t hard for me. Most Manhattan preps could get into any bar or club they wanted without even having to use a fake I.D. I didn’t really have to do anything anyway. When they saw us pull up in the mercedes, all ideas of us being teens were thrown out the window. Only in suburbia.

We saw some stupid show trying to be shoved into every genre out there. It was romance, comedy, horror, action, drama all rolled into a huge, sloppy mess. But it was funny, not on purpose. And I didn’t really care. We had the theater to ourselves–very gross theater, I might add–so we talked a lot more than we watched. Then we headed back to the school. We got there just as lunch started. That was more awkward than I had imagined; waling in with him. It was like everyone saw and everyone stopped what they were doing to watch us. I swear everyone had known we had ditched and they just stared. Jason was the only one who didn’t really notice. He just walked down the hall, totally oblivious, and talking to me. He kind of laughed about it though. But when I walked past Annie our conversation stopped. She jumped on me and started talking really fast–and loud–about where I had been. It was then she saw Jason standing with a smile behind me and she kind of backed off. But she didn’t walk away. So jason smiled and said it had been fun; sorry if he totally ruined my education. I rolled my eyes and brushed my hand through my tangled curls as he walked off with a wave.

As soon as he was out of hearing distance, Annie attacked me with questions. All the other girls were pretty curious too. I just told her he had given me a ride. She scoffed and said he must be the slowest driver in america if that’s all we did. I just laughed and said I had to go talk to some teachers. I really didn’t. And Annie knew that. She told me the classes I’d missed didn’t even care. Except for math, no one really takes roll. Plus, she said, I’m such a new student–and super quiet–no one really notices me one way or the other. I kind of stared at her–it seemed a little harsh, but she hadn’t meant it to be. She just laughed and told me to sit down. I looked around and everyone still seemed to be watching me. I told hr I had to go to the bathroom. But she was determined. So she followed me there. And she finally got it out of me. She sat on the disgusting counter as I tried to calm my hair and listened. She thought it was adorbale.

“You’re so gonna get together–did he kiss you?”

I stared at her, half amused, half annoyed. I never knew people could be so nosey. Maybe it was because all my girlfriends in New York took eachother’s boyfriends so they couldn’t ever talk about it like this. Relationships weren’t serious in my world. It was all non-commital or materialistic. But Annie expected my life to be a movie style fairy-tale.

I told I most definitely had not been kissed.

“Well, don’t you want him to kiss you?”

I laughed, “What if I want to kiss him? Why does he have to kiss me?”

Her eyes totally sparked and she smiled, “So you do wanna kiss him?”

I scoffed, “You’re really nosey for not knowing me.”

She roller her eyes and got off the counter, “Whatever, I know you. Doesn’t take years to figure you out.”

It could have been rude, but I knew she hadn’t meant it to be. So I just smiled.

“We’re totally friends, Brooke. So deal. Now–do you wanna kiss him or not?”

I kind of zoned the last part out. All I could think of was her saying we were friends. It sparked the thought that no one had ever told me that before–not so…honestly anyway. It was weird. And yet comfortable. Cuz I agreed.

She nudged me, “Well? Do you?”

I blushed. That was awkward. “I-I don’t know!”

She rolled her eyes, but they still twinkled, “You so do. Don’t even deny it. I don’t think you’d let your hair out for just anyone. You are so crushing on him. And he totally loves you.”

I spun to face her. I tried to kind of wiggle my way out of it all. But I couldn’t. She was right–about my hair at least. I never did that. My hair was my crown and I never let anyone mess with it. Ever. I remember once I couldn’t find my conditioner and my maid gave me some grocery-store kind. I threw a fit and screamed that I wouldn’t go to school without using my conditioner. So I made her run to my salon and buy some more. Pathetic, huh? But that had just been me. I loved my hair. I think I’d rather give up all my clothes than shave my head! And staring in that mirror at the blown out curls made me realize that I didn’t care. Well, I cared. But I wouldn’t not do it again. I was fine having the frizzy hair for the rest of the day–it had so been worth it. And he had called me beautiful anyway.

Annie took my silence as an answer and she smiled and jumped back on the counter. “You’re so jealous-making.”

I smiled, “Whatever, Annie. You’re pretty too.”

“Yeah, but you’re barbie-doll HOT. It’s like totally unfair. Every girl here wants to kill you and every guy wants to totally own you.” Then she laughed. “Too bad you’re already taken.”

I aksed her what she meant just as the bell rang.

“Come on–walking in with Jason, like, two hours late is totally screaming ‘taken–don’t mess!’ And that is making some guys totally sad.”

“I’m not some guys property.” I complained as we walked out the room.

“Yeah, well, every guy is willing to be yours and you’ve so chosen the best option.”

Then she laughed and pulled me up the stairs towards our class. I don’t remember a single thing that was said–in any of the remaining classes. All I could think about was my hair. About not caring, mostly. It was a weird, new feeling for me. And Annie’s laughing eyes always glancing over didn’t really help. But you know what? I didn’t even care. I was, as Annie would say, totally taken. And that was a new experience for me. But I so liked it.

Good Morning, Sunshine – prt. 4 April 4, 2008

That first week was strange. I don’t know how to explain it. It was like I finally realized I was really stuck here. I finally caught on to the fact that daddy would never come save me. He wasn’t coming back–all he had left me was a fortune I couldn’t use and a sentence to this suburbia prison. And that in itself was weird.

Every morning I’d wake up to the sound of Cadence humming show tunes or spanish love songs and I’d think “That’s my mom.” And every day I had to get out of bed and get ready to go to school. A public school. Where the hottest topic was the next school dance and who you wanted to take. In New York, my school didn’t have dances. but that was because we didn’t need them. We threw our own parties. And whoever put on the most lavish was queen or king of the school–at least till the next one. You needed to stand out. You needed to catch the whole cities attention. i’d been to parties where multiple bands came to preform–from big names to struggling rockers from across the world. There were masquerades, semi-formals, bar hopping–everything. One time, there was a runway set up through the room with a constant flow of professional models showcasing real designers. but that wasn’t even the main event. The girl’s party favors were a free designer item–of our choice. From gowns, to perfumes, whoever got back first, got the best pick. Right off the model and tailored right there if neccessary. And the models would still go on out; their cover dwindling as eager hands delved for something. The guys didn’t mind that part. I’d been to parties where we could dance by actors, actresses, musicians–famous people. So hearing about the next $15 dollar dance wasn’t all that exciting. But it was in Florida. Girls talked and talked about the gowns they were getting–the cinderella catastrophe’s of tulle and cheap satin all spewing out like a giant fairy-tale. I didn’t share my opinion on those.

Then there were the girls. Who all seemed oddly friendly–mot of them for real, too. It was like I’d stepped into teenage stepford–everyone was perfect. Well, no. They had their flaws–like make-p and clothing items. And nosiness-every day someone would be up in my face asking where I got my outfit. But they were all sweet; at least the one’s Annie introduced me too. I could see wannabe hints of my old friends in some of the people around the school. There were the bimbo’s and then the too-cool-for-you. I was used to those; it was the niceness that threw me off.

And every day I’d come home and cadence would wonder how my day had been–she was always there. I don;t think she ever stepped out of that house. I don’t know what she did in it. Definitely not cleaning. It was never clean. But she was always there, and she’d always listen–well, be willing to at least. I never really gave her the chance–as if were the closest of mother-daughter. And dinner, though it wasn’t always happy and perfect, it was always happening. Like clockwork. We’d be summoned to the table where cadence would offer a quick grace and then we’d dig in. Even if Annie and her got in fights–which actually happeend a few times–there was always dinner. And by the end of it, they were all smiles.

Annie was never intrusive. She was actually the least curious of anyone I’d met in Florida. She would compliment my clothes, but would never ask where I got them or–worse–if she could try them on. And she didn’t ask about my dad. Neither did Cadence. In fact, I don’t think I ever heard them mention it.

But the strangest of all? I was getting comfortable with it. I didn’t cringe when I got on the bus. Well, not as much. I actually learned to smile at people. But it was hard to smile when Jenny was near. She wouldn’t leave me alone. That was annoying. And a lot of the guys started talking to me. That was uncomfortable. Cuz they thought they were all that and could easily get me to drool all over them. But I wasn’t tempted–half of them were hard to look at.

Anyway, I started to find it normal to come home to Cadence’s warm smile. I found it normal to see the different sorts of clicks hanging out in different, dirty halls. I was getting used to the constant silly chatter that didn’t interest me at all. Homework wasn’t an issue–I knew everything. That left me with nothing to do but read, talk to Cadence or Annie or text girls who now considered me a friend. I didn’t care as much about my fashion magazines–though I always bought the newest ones. And I didn’t care when my NY friends sent me their newest purchase. And I started to find I was…moving on. I was starting to not miss my dad. Hardly two weeks had gone by since he died and I was already moving on! I craved starbucks more than I craved my dad. And, surprisingly or not, that made me feel awful. Well, its not like I was suddenly free or just forgetting him. It was just I’d gone my whole life without him constantly there–saturday was the one constant–and so, now that he wasn’t, I didn’t really know what to miss. And when I called Melanie, it wasn’t as easy as I thought to make jokes about where I was. When she brought up Cadence or where I was, I’d try and move around it. Because something in me didn’t want to talk bad about them. I craved my Manhattan–I even cried when we watched You’ve Got Mail on night. Cadence and Annie cried to, but for different reasons. But that didn’t mean I could hate on these people; even when Melanie told me she missed me so much. Her calls didn’t last over five minutes though–she always had to take another or get to a meeting or something. And through the days of structured comfort, I realized if I had been able to stay with melanie, I would have been alone. As usual. But I couldn’t figure out if I liked that idea.

Yet, even though I started to get comfortable, I still remained troubled by where I was. I wasn’t used to the snowless ground or the warm air. I couldn’t wrap my head around the smallness of everything and yet the hugeness of other things. The school was huge; sprawled across the land like a prison. In New York everything was tall; I’d never seen a school like that. And the endless streets of houses with parked mini-vans and screaming babies were huge. But the crowds and traffic were nothing; the shopping and food choices were worse. It was very…quiet. And, in that first week only two things really happened that are worth mentioning. Besides those, life was simple. Loud, yes. But in a simple, average sort of way. There were these mom-daughter fights that I’d never seen before. Mostly because most of my friends from manhattan didn’t know their mom let alone talk to them enough to get mad at them. And it all seemed movie-life perfect in suburbia. Well, not perfect. Normal. Kids played on the street and dads mowed lawns. People would walk just to walk and parents would go grocery shopping. I’d never seen that side of life before and it was…wierd.

The day after the first day of school, Cadence had to pick Annie up to take her directly to her piano lessons and I gladly took a ride with them–so much better than the bus. But it turns out, in suburbia, when you drop a kid off somewhere you don’t go home until that kid is in the car again. So we were running errands for, like, ten minutes before she headed back to get her. The piano lessons had been in this “downtown” so there was a bit of traffic. It stressed cadence out, but I thought it was steady enough to be better than bad. She asked me how I could stand New York traffic. I smiled politely. I don’t do small talk. But I told her you got used to it and that this wasn’t even bad. That led her down memory lane and she started telling me about her life in New York.

I’d never ever known anything about my mom, so this was interesting, though slightly awkward. Mostly because it included my dad. She told me how they’d met at the Columbia and fallen in love. They both been affluent yet she always wanted more than just money–she wanted love and family. When her parents died and she didn’t shed a tear, that strengthened her want. So she was happy to find out she was with child. This is where it got really awkward. Cuz, hello, she was saying how she loved me and then up and left like three months later. She didn’t seem to recognize my tenseness, she just went on as if she was enjoying it. And I listened. She said it was weird when she found out–not for her, but for my dad. he went all psycho saying he wasn’t ready to raise a kid and how his business was taking control of his life. When Cadence mentioned moving out of the city, things started getting stressed. That’s when she started to think maybe it wouldn’t be such a good idea; having me. But she still did and that started to drive them apart. Especially with dad’s new position in the company. And after she had me, things were just totally down the drain. She looked at me and said that she wished she could blame it all on my dad, but she new she couldn’t. They both had given up trying. And when “Mr. Affair”, as she called him, came into the picture, life just flipped. She turned from the one thing she wanted and ran to the side she’d been hiding from just to not feel the pain and worry. That’s when she left. She couldn’t look at me when she told me. And I could feel hot tears running down my cheek, but I didn’t try and wipe them away. i just watched her. I watched and I wondered why she would just abandon me. Especially if Dad really didn’t want me. She said she couldn’t explain it; she said a day never went by where she didn’t feel guilty. She said her life had been ruined since she had–not that Annie was a problem, just that none of her dreams could work out. She told me she had this fear of commitment–she had failed a child, how could she keep a relationship? and that that had really ruined her second marriage to the lawyer. She said when she had found out about dad she just sat on her bed and cried. And then she called me and after that she just cried and cried. That’s when I asked her if she’d just taken me in to ease her guilt. She sort of started, rushing to say no. I don’t know if I believe her. I wanted to.

She went on and said that she had felt a sort of obligation, but that really it just came down to wanting to know the girl she had started out loving so much. She wanted to have another chance at caring for the one thing she had wanted in the first place. Then she told me I looked so much like my dad. That’s when I wiped my tears. I didn’t want to talk about him–that just made it real and scary. Just living as if nothing had happened except I moved was easier than really admitting he was super gone–not just out of town or something. Cadence seemed to get that, cuz she didn’t mention his death or anything. She just smiled at me and then turned back to the traffic, falling on her horn like a madwoman. I never knew a mood could change so quickly. It was still awkward, but she seemed to have move on and it was just me left with my thoughts. I never knew I could think so much. usually I was just doing something or planning something or ignoring everything. i never really let my thoughts run. But I did here. Maybe that’s just a side affect of the laid-backness of suburbia life. There’s no rush of the city hurrying you on. Its just you and there’s no point in ignoring it. I remember Cadence told me later that she never knew a teen could not text or be off the phone constantly; it seemed so abnormal for a teen now. She said it as a joke, but I guess it’s true. I didn’t really do anything like I used to. Well, I still loved my Chanel and Prada, but I was a lot more…calm. I don’t know if that’s the right word. I still had major attitude, but it was like I didn’t have anyone to unleash it on so I was quiet and just watching. I was learning to sort of breathe–which was actually a lot more bearable to do in Florida than it had ever been in New York City.

Then there was English. The teacher, who I decided was a witch who needed to learn how to apply make-up, assigned these impossibly boring, busy-work group projects on a friday. And I ended up with Todd and this guy named Jason. It was surprisingly bearable that first day. Mostly because Jason took over. In fact, the only thing Todd had time to say was, “Brooke–totally my next guess.” I just rolled my eyes and let Jason take charge. he was a nioce looking guy with hazelnut eyes and dark hair to match. He even had the superman chin and glasses that made him so preppy. he was smart too. Which was refreshing cuz I was starting to discover a lot of stupid people filled the school. But he smiled and introduced himself, said he had heard about me. I just rolled my eyes as Todd found it funny to mention my attitude. His exact words, I think, were, “Careful–she bites.” and Jason responded with a laugh, whispering un-quietly that “Todd has an ego that constantly needs feeding.” That’s when I found out the guys were twins! Twins! I know, right? Totally not identical, but they were twins. Weird. And we had to work together. Mostly the hours was spent with the two cracking jokes at each other. Which should have been weird, but it was actually pretty funny. i smiled, though the look I got from Todd when I did such was slightly annoying and I wanted to slap him. But I didn’t. I just went on and eventually we got each other’s numbers to actually do the project later. Jason just apologized about his brother’s unruliness with a wink. I just smiled and waved a quick goodbye, not sure how I felt about the whole thing at all.

That friday night was spent watching You’ve Got Mail with Annie and Cadence cuz Annie hadn’t finished her chores so she couldn’t have friends over. So suburbia. And I ended up going to bed at midnight. A first for me–New York nights had always been crazy. But I was tired and it had been a weird week. Everything was weird. So I went to bed. And, ya know, I was actually growing used to those itchy sheets.

Good Morning, Sunshine – prt. 2 April 1, 2008

“Listen–as soon as you turn eighteen I’ll be there; not a second late. I promise.”

“You’re always late, Mel.”

She smiled sadly, looking at me as we drove to the airport. I just stared off into the heart of manhattan, ready to die right there. I didn’t want to leave. Six months. In Florida.

“Yeah, well, not this time. Besides, it’s not always my fault.”

As if to illustrate her point, she started yelling at the driver about the fact I was going to miss my plane if he didn’t hurry things up. That sounded like an okay thing to me but I didn’t say anything; just held my starbucks Mocha Frappuccino Blended Coffee and wished I was heading anywhere else. But I wasn’t. Cadence had called every day the last week to make sure I was all set and everything was going as planned; as if I had a choice. She bought the tickets for me; said they were waiting at the airport under my name. I told her I could totally take care of myself; i could even get my jet to come down. She thought that was funny at first. When she realized i was dead serious, she just said no–she wanted to get me here. So there I was, traveling through New York City traffic towards an airport where I actually had to wait in line. All so i could go live with my “mom” down in “Sunshine” Florida. I’m sure the sun was no different there than here, but Cadence made a huge deal about it. I couldn’t really argue; florida was like the only place I’d never been. I had never been to Disney world. Well, I went to Euro Disney last year for my french tour; it wasn’t all that exciting. I much preferred the Paris Fashion Week; I bought a Dior gown and coat. I was wearing the coat that day–I remember. It was a gorgeous trench. But I never had worn the gown. And I highly doubt I’d find a place to wear it in Florida; but I packed it anything. I didn’t leave anything behind. Every perfume bottle, shoe, blouse, pair of jeans, slacks, stockings and piece of jemwelry was coming with me. i made sure of it.

The apartment had been cleared out like no one had ever lived there before. Melanie had found some sort of storage space for it–the safest, most guarded one available. She wouldn’t let me take the paintings and sculptures dad had goteen me through the years; said they’d be here when I came back. but not in my home. It surprised me how fast the memories were packed. They didn’t even haunt the empty halls. I guess it was because most of my memories with dad were made elsewhere. We never really were home. But home was still home–and now I was leaving it all behind. Every high rise, every street corner. they were all staying and I was going.

I remember the day before I had burst into tears as I zipped my final case shut. There was at least five of them. Melanie had them shipped down that night so I wouldn’t have to worry about them all at the airport. I just hoped they’d be there in time. Cadence had this odd idea that I wanted to be going down there; as if I had planned this trip all on my own. every phone call was filled with high-pitched reassurance that it would be the greatest thing–we’d have so much fun. She said even at school I’d have fun. Seemed I did have to finish school and my Ivy-League-inspired private school didn’t have a second in Florida. Shocker. So I’d go to school with Cadence’s other daughter. Yeah. She had another; I had to bite my tongue to keep from asking if it was the masseuses’. She was sixteen and her name was Annie. I didn’t know anyone named Annie. It sounded so…broadway.

When I got to the airport, Melanie had to get to another meeting. So, after a quick kiss on the cheek and a hurried hug, she shoved my Burberry bag in my hands and whispered “good luck” and “text me if you absolutely die”. And then I was alone. And I had to go with the sea of people to the customer service desk. That was a new experience. When I finally got up there, I asked for my tickets only to discover they were coach. I didn’t do coach. I told the lady that and she just looked at me, then moved on to the next customer. I asked for an upgrade but she said there were no available seats. I told her that was bull and she told me she’d call security. So I left.

I got on that plane and shoved myself between some wannabe gangster and dying grandma The kid just kept eyeing me and my tightly-clad legs. I finally asked if he had a problem. He said no, he liked the spicy girls. I just rolled my eyes, put on my designer shades–I think they were my Gucci–and pretended he wasn’t there. It was a long flight. I wish it was longer. Too soon I was off and heading towards my florida exile. I had to switch at the Miami terminal to head to some middle-of-no-where town where the closest airport was thirty miles from my new “home”. That was a distance that made the difference between a prison and a claustrophobic psycho’s ward. It seemed I was heading for the latter. There were only five other people on the plane with me. The flight attendants were in tight blue polyester and looked like they doubled as a Hooters bar waitress. And they played some unheard of hip-hop music (it should remain that way). But it wasn’t till we landed and I squeezed out of that coach-only airplane that I realized exactly how awful it was going to be. The air was warm. And it was wet; I could feel it press against my body. But I could stand that; that was bearable. It was seeing my new “family” that made me want to run. They held a sign, as if they’d mistake me with the rotting men getting off with me. It was an older woman who looked like she’d been frightened of growing old her whole life but had finally given in. Her face echoed of old plastic surgery. The girl next to her was cute enough. Sort of a Wendy’s “it” girl, if there is such a thing. She had red hair and freckles. To give her some credit though, it wasn’t pulled into pigtails. It was held back with a forest green that matched her pants. Well, gauchos–nice, spandexy gaucho’s. As soon as they saw me, they dropped the sign and just stared. I finally walked down to them and pulled off my sunglasses. It suddenly seemed rather hot.

Finally the older woman looked at me, “Brooke?”

I looked around, pulling my burberry back up my arm, and pretended to double check. “Looks like it.”

They thought that was funny. Then she pulled me in my arms and hugged me–really hugged me. I never really got hugs; dad even knew I wasn’t a hug person. She was whispering a whole bunch of stuff in my ear till I finally pushed her away. Then the other girl was in front of me.

“I’m Annie and you are absolutely gorgeous! I never guessed you’d be so pretty–not that I had reason not to. but….Oh, I love your jacket.”

I looked at her, trying to decide if I should stare at the hair or the bright green eyes or the pants. I decided to just put my glasses back on. “Thanks.” I said, “It’s a coat.”

cadence then asked if I had anything else; I said my baggage had been sent down. She laughed and said that’s good to know cuz she wasn’t sure if all that had been mine or if the whole plane had accidentally rerouted their luggage carrier. I didn’t find it that funny.

But I finally got in the car–which cadence actually drove–and Annie felt like she had to sit in the back with me.

“Cool bag. I have one like it. I got it at target for, like twenty bucks. is that real? Mom said NY has all these great street deals for copy’s.”

I could feel my face melt into a despising glare, but I didn’t care. Accusing me of street-corner copies was about as low as you can get. i quickly pointed out the label. She said she’d never heard of it–was it some store? i didn’t bother explaining further, just held it closer.

Other than that it was a silent ride, Annie seemed to catch on real quick that I didn’t rally care for her chatter. And Cadence was too busy watching the endless, deserted road to make conversation. I was fine with that. And I just kept praying that I’d be living in some sort of oasis in this strange, strange part of the world. When we turned down an average suburbia road, I knew I was far from having that prayer answered. there was grass all around. All the houses looked the same and each had their own mailbox. Toys were strewn across the lawn and cheesy christmas decorations still plagued the lawns. We pulled up to own of the more average ones–at least it didn’t have any toys–and I watched as the garage door went up.

I was scared to get out; I kept thinking maybe I was lost. But as Annie opened the door and told me to slide on out–the other door was broken–I knew it was too real. And Cadence pushing the door open and watching nervously as I walked in made it all more real. Annie kind of stumbled in after me, pushing her shoes under a bench and quickly telling me I didn’t have to. Good. Because there was no way I was taking off my wedges to put my feet on that floor.

“Uh,” cadence said, watching as I looked around, “We’re kind of…humble. Not so worried about a clean house as we are about family, right?” She tried to laugh and I slowly pulled my glasses off and pushed them in my bag. The living room was connected to the kitchen and there was no dining room. The TV sat on the floor and was still on. The couch looked like it had seen better days and the windows had plastic blinds on them. A loud air conditioner blew behind me and Annie waited by the stairs, hardly registering my discomfort.

“Your room is by mine; you’re lucky dad and Travis moved out last year, otherwise we’d have to get rid of some of your clothes.”

“What?” I asked a bit loudly.

She just laughed and said it was a joke. Some joke. Then she said she’d show me. So I followed her and I could hear Cadence sigh deeply behind me as I creaked up those stairs. When she opened my new room’s door, I almost ran out screaming. I swear it was smaller than my bathroom had been. It’s walls were a horrid fuschia and the awful paisley bedspread matching with an addition of orange and white would even make martha Stewart gag. The only thin that kept me going in were my five suitcases stacked against a wall. Those clothes needed out. Though I was loathe to place them where I was. A small window took precedence on the farthest wall and a pathetic closet filled the other one. It was about two feet deep. I could hear children laughing outside which was foreign to my ears. I was used to honking, sirens and whistles.

Annie just smiled at me, standing awkwardly in the door. I looked at her.

“Well,” she said, slightly picking up on my angry stare, “I’ll leave you to get settled. Mom said I shouldn’t bother you too much–we do after all have school together in two days. We’re still on Winter break!”

The suffocating heat made it impossible for my brain to register that statement. I just collapsed onto the stiff bed with a whine as soon as my door shut. I dropped my bag to the floor, suddenly not caring about the probable dust mites. I just let my hair fall out of its tight ponytail and stared at the ceiling.

“Well, we’re not in kansas. Though we’re probably close.” I whispered to no one. This was going to be a long six months. Very long.