Ch. 1

I drove to my new school and parked in the senior parking lot. I let my old 1969 Chevy Camaro SS idle for a minute before shutting of the engine of the car. It was a gloomy day and the sky looked like it was going to cry me a river. I sure felt like doing it myself. I already felt out of place and I wasn’t even in the front gate yet. My tank top with my black vest and daisy dukes sure fit in with what these kids were wearing though. It was a start.

Lakewood, California definitely would not have been my first choice to move to. Soon after we got settled into the new house I found out that my dad had originally come from California in a city not too far from Lakewood. Apparently a relative I hadn’t been aware of died and had left my father the owner of the house in their will, but dad never took it due to his growing family. Now that there was a job opportunity, he couldn’t pass it up.

So here we were, in hell. I was now an outcast in a sea of unfamiliar faces in a place I could’ve lived my whole life not even so much as visiting. Lakewood and its West Coast glory was not where I wanted to be.

I belonged on the East Coast, knee deep in snow in the winter and miserably hot in the summer. I missed my home. I missed everyone I left behind. I missed my life.

If my mom were still alive, she would’ve insisted on home schooling me herself just so I wouldn’t have to deal with the embarrassment. She had been moving a lot throughout her school years as well and would have understood. Unfortunately Lakewood is the high school my father went to as a kid and I think I kind of owe it to him to make him proud of something other than my grades. I guess you could say I’m living out his childhood and he is living vicariously through me. As much as my father still acts like a kid around me and my kid brother, he has lost his touch quite a bit over the years.

When my brother was born, he gained some of it back, but now as years were passing us by he is starting to be how I remembered him when I was growing up. Serious and not so interested in what his child had going on in their life. I feel bad for my brother because he’ll have to go through the same thing as I’m going through when he’s my age. The neglect the parents give when nothing you do in life is ever good enough. It’s okay though, ‘because I’ll be there to protect him when that s**t hits the fan.

“Um, hello.” I turn to see a small petite girl staring at me, her small tote bag dangling against her right hip from her shoulder. I’m kind of confused why she is talking to me. I could completely understand if she was staring. Considering I’m the new kid.

“Hi there.” I can see my hesitation set her off a little and I swear I could see the start of a frown.

“Are you new here? You seem lost.”

Lost, I wanted to say. New? Really? How could you tell?

“Yeah, I’m new. And,” I chuckled a bit. “Yeah I am kinda lost. Mind helping me find where Ms. Willow’s room is?”

“I don’t know her, but I’m sure if you go to the front office, they could tell you.” Her smile was so fake. At least it looked really fake.

Even though I wanted to hit her for being a DL dull smartass, I said thank you and went on my way. I didn’t even bother introducing myself.

It took nearly a half an hour before I finally got someone to help me figure out where my first period class was. An older African American woman from the attendance office went through all my classes with me, underlining the classes I’d have for the day. She briefly explained how a Blocked schedule worked, and underlined my classes I’d have for tomorrow in a different colored pen. She gave me a map of the school and circled the classes I had for the day, numbering them off and highlighting a route that would get me to the classes the quickest.

When she handed me a slip to get signed by all my teachers I had for both days, I mentally groaned. This was what I was trying to avoid till graduation. Confrontation with people I didn’t know well. I thanked her kindly and gave her the best smile I could make and tried as best as I could to make it look convincing. God knows I wasn’t convinced. As I started to leave down the office hall she yelled after me, hoping I’d enjoy my life here in Lakewood and at Lakewood High. Was it possible?

Upon entering the classroom though, I felt like I could have killed myself in the very moment I stepped through the door. Everyone was staring where I had frozen in place. I could feel a small bead of sweat drip down the back of my neck, drowning in anxiety wondering if they could hear the loud pounding as my heart tried unsuccessfully to beat its way out of my chest. I could hear whispers and see people ducking their heads, as if it wasn’t obvious that they were the ones doing the whispering.

The room is what caught my attention next. It wasn’t like any “normal” teacher’s room that you’d expect to walk into. It felt more like a room in a house, just cluttered with school projects. Next to the wall closest to the door, there was a somewhat raggedy cough with two chairs beside it. There were at least 2 bookshelves to the left side of the whiteboard, and two right in front of the door hugging the wall. Approximately 39 desks were scattered in crooked rows in the center of the classroom. The teacher’s desk, along with a couple of tables where six computers were stationed, was by the back wall where most of the disaster must have hit in there. The place certainly screamed HOARDER, but to her these were probably projects of students who meant a lot to her over the years. I wondered if maybe one day I might be privileged enough to have one hanging up somewhere.

“Do you need something?” A loud voice carried over to me, bringing me back from my day dreaming. It was the teacher who spoke. She looked nice. Average height, black hair ending just below her shoulders and a dress up that screamed multiple personalities. She looked like a rock star at the same time she looked like a teacher and a lonely woman who could stay home, eat Ben and Jerry’s and wallow in her sorrows all day long. Ms. Willow looked like my kind of teacher.

“Yeah, I’m the-“

“Oh! You must be my new student!” Ms. Willow hopped up off of the desk she had been sitting on in the classroom, front and center, and started on her way over to me.“We’re just talking about the movie we’ve been watching the past couple of classes. El Orphanato. Have you ever seen it before?”

I shook my head and made a mental note to watch that sometime soon or maybe Google it and get a brief explanation of what they were watching so I wasn’t completely out of the loop. Or would that make me a nerd? Hmm.

“Oh well. It won’t matter. We’re going to finish up the last 15 minutes of the movie and then we’ll be moving on to Edgar A. Poe’s writings. And class,” Ms. Willow took the signing slip from my half-extended hand and started walking past me over to her desk she had been sitting in when I walked in. “Why do I not say Edgar Allan Poe?”

In unison, the majority of the class answered her with the same response. “Edgar never really took on the Allan name, and Mr. Allan really never formally adopted Poe into his family.”

“Great. Glad to know everyone is awake and paying attention.” Ms. Willow’s eyes fell on a kid who was turned around talking to another student in class, a girl I might add, and she waited. Once he turned around, she smiled and shook her head. “Adam I will never be able to keep your attention, will I?”

The guy smiled a completely stoner’s smile and shrugged. “Probably not, but I still manage to get my work in right?”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t doubt that a few of the times you actually have turned them in, you’ve had help.” He just kept grinning, cupping his chin in his hand and slouching over his desk. I grabbed an empty desk and began to think that this may actually be ok. At least this class was, so far.

When the bell rang for our Nutrition period, I had nowhere to go but my next class and just stand there at the door, waiting outside of a PE teacher’s office. I was a Teacher Aide for my second period of the day and I watched as people passed me by or stood around near the office, it seemed like every single one of them somehow knew I was the new kid on the block.

Once my last class of the day started, I regretted ever coming to school. My Government teacher, Mr. Taylor, who I already disliked considering I really hated History, let alone Government, was the only teacher out of my three classes of the day that downright embarrassed me in front of the whole class. He presented a formal introduction to the class as if he knew even one thing about me other than my name and my grade year. I had to fill in some of the blanks he was trying to provide to fill the class in on who I was, though I would have preferred to keep on the down-low instead of being pushed underneath the spot light like this.

I was relieved to know that my day ended early at 1:05 instead of 2:40 in the afternoon. My drive home was the most satisfying part of the whole day. It only took a few minutes, but it seemed to take forever cause all I wanted to do was go home and finish unpacking my room.

The new house was nice with a great, decent sized backyard. There was a sloped driveway which connected to a pathway that lead up to the front door. The house was pained a dull white with some kind of white-beige trim. The front steps had a sort of dark brown carpet lining and there was a little ivy plant overtaking the archway of the front door. On both sides of the door there's some gorgeous stained glass windows the size of the door and about two feet in width. The front door itself had a white painted metal door with a real pretty floral design on it. Open that and there was just a plain wooden door with a golden knob.

The living room was spacious, enough room for our two couches, two bookshelves, an ottoman and our entertainment center with our flat screen. Behind the ottoman beside the entrance to the kitchen is where we put our dining room table with its six chairs. Two tall dark oak chairs on each length and one chair at both ends of the table always aligned perfectly. The kitchen had tile flooring with light brown old fashion cabinets and a washer in the far back corner. There was also a window that looked out over the backyard where you could see a wild ivy-like plant that had overtaken the back fence, and the tall leafless tree in the back that's branches needed to be trimmed because they were close to catching in the telephone wires.

The whole house had 3 bedrooms, my dad's room, my room and my little brother's and step-sister's room. I didn't have much interest in what their rooms looked like, but my room was the best I think out of them all. The room was about 12'x12' and had a window that over looked the neighbor’s yard. Not that that was really appealing, but it led out onto the roof and that ended up running right along the brick wall of the side yard. An easy escape route for when I ever had the urge to sneak out anywhere. As If I hadn't done it before at our old home.

By the time I had pulled up into our driveway it was only 1:36, so I raced up to the front door and on upstairs to my room to hop onto my computer. I had approximately an hour before my dad got home and I'd have to start my chores. I moved the mouse and the computer monitor lit up with life. There was already a Word doc pulled up on the screen, it had the single word typed onto the page. "Fixed". I began to write what first came to my mind.

 

“He told me it was alright

that he fixed everything

and had made things better

but I just looked down

with sad, sorrowful eyes

letting tears fall down my face

and I walked away from him

as if he were never even there.”

Author's Note

So I noticed that with a lot of the books I'd started writing, that the chapters are very short...like, one page.. SOOOOO.... I tried as best as I could to drag this one out. It doesn't have a very strong ending, but I like it. :]