I always wanted my grandma to be like the old lady in that movie "The Wedding Singer". The one that sings to her husband at their fiftieth wedding anniversary. She seemed so cheerful and loving. I would imagine my grandma cooking me strange foods, knitting me sweaters, singing my favorite rock songs into a microphone, and having a splendid time doing it.
I'd never actually met my grandmother before. The only grandmotherly figure I'd ever had was Ms. Anderson, the resident nurse of the orphanage. She was nice, but I only ever saw her when I was sick, which wasn't often.
As I was sitting on my bed reading a book, Leila came and sat on my lap. She leaned her head against my shoulder and mumbled, "Dani, I don't feel good".
"Do you want me to take you to the nurse?" I asked her becoming concerned. Leila is kind of like my little sister. I'd been looking out for the tyke since she got here about three years ago. Her parents died in a car crash. Nothing particularly special. She was just two years old when it happened.
"No," she whimpered. "I just don't feel right. I don't feel good." She looked up at me with her big brown eyes and I gently patted her head. I didn't really know why she hadn't been adopted. Usually the little ones get scooped up fast. I suspected it was because she simply didn't want to be adopted, and tended to throw a fit at the prospect of leaving me and my friends.
"Okay Leila, how about if I put you to bed, and I'll read you a story. Will that make you feel better?" I asked hoping that her answer was yes. I did feel sorry for her, but the book I was reading was good and I wanted to get back to it.
Leila sighed and replied. "Okay, but I don't think I'm going to feel better."
We walked together in the dimly lit hallway to the room she shared with about four other girls a few doors down. Some of the other girls were already tucked in and sleeping. I pulled down Leila's covers as she picked out a book from a large stack beside her bed. She handed me Little Red Riding Hood and I read it to her, changing my voice for all of the different characters. When I was done, I looked down and saw she was already asleep.
As I walked back to my room I saw Pat and Sammy talking in hushed voices. Curious, I walked over to them. The conversation immediately stopped after they saw me coming. This was never a good sign. Sammy, Pat, and I are best friends. We're all we have in this stupid unforgiving world. We don't keep secrets from each other.
"What's up guys?" I asked casually. The boys shared a glance and meekly looked around, obviously avoiding my eyes. Their appearances are so contrasting, if you didn't know better you would never guess they're related. The cousins had come here eight years ago, around the same time as me.
Pat with his straight dark brown hair, almost covering his bright green eyes that have every girl at St. Mary's Orphanage sighing when he walks by. Every girl besides me anyway. He's tall too. Just over six foot. His tan skin almost showing off his love of outdoor sports. Sammy on the other hand has the looks of the All American Boy. Or he would if he wasn't so disheveled. His shaggy platinum blonde hair is constantly in a whirlwind around his face. He is thin, though not at all in an unhealthy way, and much to his dismay only comes to about five foot eight, just reaching Pat's shoulder.
I look into Sam's deep set dark grey eyes and unfairly ask him, "So what were you guys talking about?" I can always tell when he's lying which he does often.
It’s because of his eyes. So expressive and constantly changing, I can tell almost the exact thought passing through his head by looking at them. He becomes anxious and muddled only when lying to me. "Well...um...we... were talking about..." he stuttered breaking out into nervous laughter.
"We were talking about tomorrow's field trip and how we should really start packing," Pat said with mock confidence. Sam nodded vigorously in agreement. I rolled my eyes. I didn't feel like pressing them any further. They would tell me eventually.
"That reminds me!" I exclaimed with the rush of today's events surging through my brain. "You know those terrorist threats we've been hearing about on the news?" Sam and Pat nodded solemnly. "Well Charles might not let us go on the trip tomorrow. He said it might be too dangerous."
"Damn it no!" Sammy shouted. "I have been looking forward to this trip for almost a year." He slumped his shoulders and looked at me pitifully. As though I could change the decision of Charles (the head of the orphanage).
"Listen, he only said we might not be able to go. Just pack your things and tomorrow morning we'll find out for sure. It's probably just some silly scare anyway. They always are." I said in hopes of making a smile reappear on his face.
"Yeah we should all get going," Pat said probably fearful of the conversation returning to what him and Sammy had been talking about before.
"Okay. Night guys," I yawned realizing for the first time how tired I was.
I got to my room and jumped into bed, of course landing on the edge of my book and slightly scraping my back through my nightgown. I threw the book onto the ground and slid under the covers. My things were already packed. I had everything for the ski trip I could possibly need. It wasn't often that any of us got to leave the town and all of the high school crowd was excited.
Last year Pat, Sam, and I didn't get to go because we'd gotten into a bit of trouble. Actually a lot of trouble. We locked Mike Anderson in the janitors' closet for four hours, because he threatened to tell Charles about how we skipped third period every other day to hang out. We ended up getting in trouble for both acts. Not our most thought out plan.
Eventually I fell asleep, dreaming of fresh fallen snow, a warm fire and a starry night in the mountains.
