Chapter One
I stared out of the window, the scenery passing us by as my father drove us to our new house. We hadn't just moved, we had moved to another continent. An extravagantly large one in my opinion. But I guess I was just a bit prejudiced against the United States. Back at home we all talked about America this and America that, but sometimes failed to realize the size of the United Stated. For every person back home, there were approximately nineteen Americans. It was like putting an elephant next to an ant and comparing the two.
This place scared me, but it also it seemed every so slightly enchanting. There were wild bears here, for Frogs sake! I didn't know exactly where but nobody could hold that against me.
“We're almost there,” my mom said. My brother glanced up from his nintendo ds for a second, but seeing nothing interesting immediately returned to his toy. We'd passed a town about ten minutes ago. I called it a town because when I thought of a city I thought of New York, Tokyo or London.
I examined the house we were approaching. It was a big house, bigger than the last one we had lived in anyways. Its walls had once been an off white but had grown closer to the color brown over the years. It had a patio that looped around the house to the back.
The garden around it had been left to its own devises. Beautiful wild flowers grew just about everywhere and where it didn't there was poison ivy. Great!
We pulled up in front of the house and my parents got out of the car. My brother, Timothy was still glued to his ds. I quickly reached for the latch and opened my door. I pulled my backpack out of the car and threw it over my shoulder. From up close the house didn't look to back, the style was a bit too rural for my taste but having lived in the suburbs for 12 years. I couldn't remember much of the house we lived in before that one so I left it out of the equation.
My father had already unlocked the front door and entered the house. My mother was waiting for me on the patio.
“Tim! Put down your game and come see the house!” She called. I knew it was useless, he wouldn't put that thing down until he had finished his game.
My mother wanted to see the living room but I immediately went up the stairs to see the bedrooms. With Timothy occupied I got first pick of the bedrooms. I opened the first door and wandered into a relatively large room. It had a king sized bed in the center of the room and another door leading to an en-suite bathroom. I noticed all the furniture was still covered with plastic sheets. Deciding that this would probably be my parents' room I quickly tried the next. It was a slightly smaller room, as expected. It was nothing special, just four walls, a large window and another door. The door lead to another bathroom. I walked through the bathroom and came to another room.
This one would be mine I decided instantly. It was about the same size as the last room, maybe even a bit bigger. It had two windows though, one facing south and another smaller one facing east. It roof was slanted, but that didn't bother me in the least. The window facing east was in that wall. It probably had one of the little platforms on top of it.
I threw my backpack on the bed and opened the window. I climbed out of it and scrambled up the roof. I stood there for a minute and then decided to climb even higher and see the other side of the house. As I reached the top of the roof I found that my brother had gotten out of the car below but was still looking down at his ds.
At that moment he shut it though and looked up at the house. He spotted me immediately and like the typical younger brother yelled for our mom.
“Mom! Sasha's on the roof!” He shouted.
“tattletale” muttered and ducked so my mother wouldn't see me. She had come out of the house and was starting to bring some of our stuff from the car.
“Sasha, get off the roof!” she shouted at me even without seeing me. I sighed and looked over the ridge again.
“Tattletale.” I yelled at Timothy, he just grinned up at me.
As I turned back to carefully slide down the roof again, I thought I saw something in the woods that bordered our land. I sat silently and stared at where I had thought to have seen it. But after a few moments of seeing nothing, I slid further down the roof and climbed back into my new room.
Examining the room closer, noticed the horrible wallpaper. It was light pick with flowers printed everywhere. It would have to go.
We had two weeks before school started and one week before all our own furniture was delivered. In that time we would have to ready the house. I wondered whether we could loan one of those steam machine to get the wall paper off the wall or maybe we could just paint over it.
My dad called me to help carrying our stuff into the house and I went downstairs. My mom had put the few groceries we had remembered to bring in the cupboards and refrigerator. We'd have to go shopping for provisions tomorrow. Dying of hunger was not on my to-do list this week.
That evening I was especially grateful to my dad for having called the water and electricity companies beforehand to alert them we were moving in. I wanted a long hot shower after the drive here. Sleep came fitfully, not so much because of being in a new place as that the mattress had obviously been bought at a porcupine farm. I could feel the old warn-out springs digging into my back as I stared at the ceiling. I could feel the old warn-out springs digging into my back as I stared at the ceiling. I couldn't wait for tomorrow...[/spoiler]
I tried to be optimistic as I stared at my new school, but failed miserably. I had seen the movie Mean Girls. Hell, I had seen any number of American movies and television shows. They all had one thing in common, the rich and beautiful ruled the school. If they liked you, you would join their royal ranks and fear crossing your best friends and falling from their graces. If they didn't like you, you were ignored and would live in constant fear of becoming a blip on their bully-radar. It was a lose-lose situation anyway I looked at it.
I had never really cared about being neither particularly wealthy nor especially beautiful, but suddenly I wished my father was a multimillionaire and my mother was Oprah. At least I would be close to untouchable then. On the other hand I probably wouldn't be me.
"Are you going to get out any time soon?" my mother asked.
"I'm mentally preparing myself for a ritual suicide, mother. Give me a minute." I replied after a long sigh.
"Whatever you do, don't bleed on the carpet. They're hell to clean and I'm not really in the mood for the bill either." I snorted. I reached for the door but hesitated before opening it. This place had the ability to chew me up, spit me out and jump on my bones. Daily. With two years to go before graduation, the prospect of what lay on the other side of the glass was a daunting one.
"Remember..
"I know, I know, paste a smile on my face and look people in the eyes. You've told me a million times.
"I was going to say to restrain yourself from punching anyone on your first day but what you said is good advice too, I guess"
I snorted again. Suddenly the building in front of me looked less intimidating, even if it was only by the tiniest of margins.
"Thanks, mom," I said with a slight sarcastic smile. Taking a last deep breath I opened the door and got out of the car.
"Have a nice day, honey!" she called, "I lo..." I slammed the door before she could finish her sentence. Of all the things for my mother to call out to me with other teenager within hearing distance. I turned back to the car and grinned at her. I had to restrain myself from shooting her the bird. She'd box my ears for it later and probably tell my dad about it. Grounded for life, oh joy.
I eventually found my way to the administration office and gave the woman behind the desk the forms I'd had to fill in beforehand. She pointed at some chairs in the corner of the room and told me to wait while she printed out my schedule. With nothing better to do I examined the room I was in. If you asked me ten minutes later I wouldn't have been able to tell you what it looked like. The color on the wall was what was called 'warm gray' because it was mixed with a twinge of green instead of blue. An awkward color to say the least. There were a few black-and-white pictures pasted against the wall, presumably of (former) students.
A door suddenly opened and a boy walked out. I called him 'boy' only because I lacked a better term. Young man sounded wrong. Adolescent sounded juvenile. Male sounded as if I was talking about chimpanzees instead of human beings. He was tall, at least a head taller then my meager 5"5. Don't ask me to guess, guessing heights was not my forte. I only knew my own length because it had been needed for my passport. He had shaggy dark blond hair, a typical surfer hairstyle, that fell to just above above his eyes. If he didn't have eyebrows I would be none the wiser. His eyes could have been light blue, they could have been gray. I couldn't really tell from the other side of the room.
Our eyes met. I tried to keep eye contact with him as long as possible but I eventually, what seemed like hours later, diverted my gaze to that beautiful grayish wall again. He stood there for a few seconds longer, then closed the door behind him and crossed the room. I stared pointedly at the wall. I heard the door close behind him and my lungs came back from their holiday to the Bahamas. With my ability to breath reinstated, I immediately cursed my shyness.
I was such a coward! I couldn't even look him in the eye. I started mentally replaying the whole event, that had lasted a staggering total of 10 seconds, in my head. I called myself every name I could think of and resolved to do better next time. He certainly had been handsome. I sighed and wondered whether the administration lady would be coming back from Narnia any time soon. She certainly was taking her sweet time printing out my schedule. Maybe she was having her daily morning rendezvous with the janitor in the supply closet.
She walked back into the room at that moment and I blushed at my own thoughts.
"Here you go, Miss Walker." She held out a sheet of paper. I quickly crossed the room and took it from her. "Your locker number is on there too. Your first class is just down the hall from here." She told me and sat down. Effectively dismissed, I turned towards the door while looking at the sheet of paper in my hand. She hadn't said anything about the location of my locker and I wasn't going to ask. The bell rang just as I left the office, the hallway immediately buzzing with activity. Looking up and down the hallway, I wondered whether 'down the hall' meant left or right?
When I finally found my classroom the door was closed and the lesson had probably already started. I hated being late. I'd rather not go inside than be late. But playing the truant on my first day of school probably didn't make the best first impression either. Mentally preparing myself, I knocked on the door and after a moment entered the classroom. The teacher immediately stopped speaking. Frogs, this was so humiliating. Was it too much to ask for the floor to open up and to swallow me alive? There were at least twenty pairs of eyes on me as I walked over to the teacher and gave him the sheet. "You certainly took your sweet time getting here, didn't you Miss Sasha Walker." He didn't phrase it like a question. He'd probably dropped my full name for the classes benefit but it sounded weird hearing my full name used like that.
"I seem to be a bit directionally challenged.." I said while trying to lift the corners of my mouth into a smile but failing to keep them there. From his expression he either didn't understand English or he didn't appreciate my comment. It was probably the latter but a girl could dream. After an awkward silence to punctuate his disapproval he pointed at an empty seat at the back of the room. "You can sit next to Miss Connors." A few students snickered at that.
"Watch out, she bites." I heard from my left as I made my way to my assigned seat.
With her hair cropped into a short bob and dyed black, four piercings in each ear and more eye-liner than should be legal, Miss Connors did indeed look like she could take a chunk out of me if I got on her bad side. I would heartily try not to do so.
As I settled down, the teacher proceeded into his lecture of one of William's many sonnets. America's obsession with this old goat had always been a mystery to me. I mean the man had been dead for the better part of the last half century. That and his work could make Einstein weep with confusion, let alone the average Joe.
When the teacher eventually turned his back to the class to write something on the white board, I quickly offered 'Miss Connors' my hand and my name. She lifted her delicate eyebrows as she looked at my hand as if it were a foreign object. After a moment, finally remembering what etiquette dictated, she shook my hand. "Amelia."
I noticed that surfer boy wasn't in my class. I couldn't decide whether I felt more relieved or disappointed. Disappointed because I couldn't stare at the back of his head like a love-sick puppy (Not that I was anything more than interested at the moment.) and relieved because I wouldn't have an opportunity to insert my foot into my mouth for at least another hour.
I suffered through the lesson wondering how anyone could not feel like an idiot while spouting more nonsense than a whale could water.
I had two more classes to go, algebra and biology till lunch. Algebra killed off my brain-cells. It wasn't that I was particularly bad at it, but that I had to really think to get to an answer.
I was relieved to find Miss Connors in my biology class. I couldn't be sure but I thought I heard her sigh as I sat down next to her. I couldn't help but feel a bit annoyed at this but when I looked up I suddenly wasn't sure whether she had sighed because of me. Our biology teacher was young, really young. He couldn't have been older than twenty-five. Besides being young, he could probably be classified as 'edible'.
When the bell rang at lunch it seemed to be an eternity later. It was quite amazing how fast the students all disappeared from the classroom. Luckily for me Miss Connors seemed to linger a bit and I took the opportunity to ask her where my locker could be found. Call me sexist, but talking to girls didn't give me any problems. Talking to guys on the other hand turned my tongue into the proverbial Sahara.
"Come on," she told me with an annoyingly loud sigh, "I'll show you."
She showed me to my locker and showed me how to open it. Who needed keys when you could have a combination lock? I would have to write down my combination I thought as I quickly stuffed my jacket into the locker. "So do you know where the.." When I looked up Amelia had disappeared, "cafeteria is?" I finished my sentence to no one in particular.
I decided to try my luck at finding the cafeteria and follow the majority of the students to wherever they were heading. The river did indeed let out at the cafeteria. Of course, there were no open table left and I had no intention of sitting down with a complete stranger. I saw Amelia and wondered for a second whether I could sit with her. But she saw me and shot all my hope to hell with the stay-the-hell-away look she sent my way. I refused to look around and then point at myself to see if she had indeed directed that look to me.
I found myself heading outside. After surveying the crowd I again noted that surfer boy was no where to be seen. But what was I really hoping for? He'd seen me for maybe 5 seconds, I had refused to look at him and here I was, desperately wishing he'd come galloping to my rescue on a white stallion. One ticket for the express train to loony-land if you please. I sat down in the grass as several others had done and watched the people around me. Two guys were passing a soccer ball between them farther down, near the sport fields. There were a few stuck-up looking girls sitting on a table to my right, probably talking about the best color for lipstick and when their next period was due. There was a group of students somewhere behind me that were talking about the party last weekend at Derek's place and how they couldn't wait till his parent went out of town again.
At some point someone came to sit beside me. He didn't say anything for a while so I took my time studying him from beneath my lashes. His hair was about the same color as mine, a deep brown. It had a slight curl in it, making him look boyish and mischievous. The profile of his face made me think of ancient Roman nobility with his straight nose and sculptured lips. It was such a shame that all the pretty ones batted for their own team these days.
He glanced at me, "I couldn't help but notice you staring at me so I came over to say hi." We smiled at each other, both knowing he was lying about my staring. I didn't feel uncomfortable talking to gay guys, they automatically fell into the 'friend' category. I had never met a real lesbian before, I briefly wondered whether they would fall into 'friend' category too.
I was just about to ask him whether he was really gay when I bit my lip and blushed. What if he wasn't gay, though? It's a straight guy's nightmare to be asked whether he was queer or not. Men and their ego's.
"Tyler," he said eventually, offering his hand. "Sasha." I replied as I shook it. It was a good, strong handshake not one of those limp ones.
"Ah, a Brit."
"Not exactly, but thanks for thinking I was." I smiled at him. It had taken a lot of practice to get my accent like this. I blushed again as someone called out to him and he waved it away. He probably wasn't gaining points for sitting with the new girl.
"Come on," he said as he lightly grasped my elbow and took my bag from me. He pulled me to my feet and guided me to a mixed group of students sitting at one of the nearby tables. He introduced them in order from left to right. Vanessa, Kyle, Wyatt and Harper. For some reason he introduced me as Red.
Vanessa gave off the vibe of all-around good girl. Her blond hair falling loosely to her shoulders, her face free of make-up with the exception of a dash of mascara on her eyelashes. She smiled absently at me before looking back at the phone she held in her hands. Kyle was another beach boy type, his hair a dirty blond and cut somewhat neater than the surfer from this morning. Wyatt had an Asian complexion, his hair dark and thick. For some reason his finger nails were painted bright blue. Harper was looking at me as if I was a curiosity. She had the most beautiful red curls that hung around her head in a disarray. She was also the culprit behind Wyatt's nails if the tiny blue bottle in her hands was any indication.
"Where are you from," Kyle asked.
"Wow, Kyle, what an imaginative question." Harper quipped sarcastically before I could answer. "Ben and Jerry's or Häagen-Dazs?" She asked me quickly.
"Uhmm.. Häagen-Dazs, I guess." Her question surprised me, it wasn't one I had heard ninety-five times before.
"Favorite color?' Vanessa asked without looking at me.
"Green," I answered. She looked up then, not at me but at Tyler. "She'll do." I couldn't restrain myself from raising an eyebrow at that. Tyler seemed to notice and promptly started laughing.
I looked up then and found myself locking gazes with surfer boy. He stood at another table a few feet away. We stared at each other for a moment before the blond at his table pulled at his arm and whined his name to get his attention. Oliver. It suited him, I thought. Wyatt snapped his fingers in front of me to bring me back to their conversation. I blushed. Frogs, I was being rude drifting away like that when they were being nothing but nice to me.
Vanessa was looking at me with her chin propped up on her hand. "Ah," she said, "she blushes." The whole group immediately started snickering at that, making me turn an even brighter color. I guess I knew where the name Red came from after all...
