Young Writers Society

Jack and I would register for classes tomorrow morning; we would then begin attending them the next day. As for today, the two of us were school shopping. My dad had handed us each 100 dollars, instructing us to get the necessary supplies. Then, he handed me the keys to the Mustang, his prized car that he never let anyone drive. “Be careful Brooklyn,” he said, “This is a onetime thing. Don’t scratch the car.”

School supplies were about 15 dollars total at the local dollar store. I knew my family would never shop there, but Jack was different. At first when he had suggested it I laughed. Dollar stores were not the type of place I would be caught dead. Still nobody here knew me so I agreed. As it turned out it wasn’t a bad idea. We then had a ton of money left over to do what we wanted.

“Let’s drive around until we find something to do,” I said not leaving Jack room to argue. I was enjoying driving the Mustang and nothing currently seemed like fun. Jack climbed in the passenger seat, “Then when we got lost…’

I cut him off, “We won’t get lost Jack, we have our phones. Just look up direction.”

“Do you know our address,” he questioned, “We’ve only been here for a couple days.”

He had a point but I figured the worst case scenario would be calling mom and asking her for directions. She’d wonder why we hadn’t been at the mall near our house but I’d make something up, so I ignored him and took off driving.

Before any time at all had passed we found ourselves in the slums of Chicago. The sense of poverty was so overwhelming that for a minute I couldn’t seem to breathe. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. The streets were littered with garbage, the houses all seemed to be falling down. “Can you imagine living like this?” I asked Jack.

“No and I don’t want to try,” Jack replied, “get out of here.” Even Ang had lived in a home that was fit for a queen, at least compared to this. A feeling of sadness washed over my body as we passed an area where 3 young children played in the street. Here I was complaining about our new place, but I knew I was lucky. Not wanting to remember this place I tried to push all the images into the farthest corner of my mind. Still, they lingered there as fresh as could be.

“How was your day?” asked my dad as I pulled the car into the driveway. I was still trying to forget about the three children that had been in the street. The youngest, a girl of maybe 5, had been so unbelievably skinny. Even Alison, in her days of anorexia, hadn’t appeared so fragile. On top of that her unwashed hair had been matted around her face, her clothing all to tattered. Now, safe in our mansion, I wondered if they even had a roof to sleep under. I would pray for them, and if there was a God, I hoped he would have the decency to protect them.

***

I didn’t sleep well that night. In fact, from the time I climbed into bed until the time my alarm went off I did nothing but toss and turn. In a last ditch effort to sleep well, I had taken some Nyquil. It hadn’t helped in the least. Now, I stood in front of Jefferson High with my brother. I hadn’t said a word the whole walk here. Jack had tried more than once to start a conversation but I just couldn’t find the words to respond. Taking one nervous step forward, I pulled open the entry door.

The office was conveniently located right in the front. I walked up to the desk with Jack following behind me. Taking a breath I started in. “Hi, I’m Brooklyn and this is Jack. We just moved here from Aspen and…” I realized I was rambling. I was sure the secretary didn’t want to hear my life story so I cut to the chase. “We need to register for classes.

Her smile was so rehearsed, so fake “Welcome” she began, “Come in and have a seat and I’ll help you two get started.”

We walked through the swinging double doors that led to the office. As we each took a seat at the table she handed us a schedule filled with all the classes we could potentially take. My transcripts, I was sure, had not yet been faxed over. Still, I made sure to sign up for the core classes I had been taking at Aspen. On top of those three, Math, Biology, And AP English, I added P.E., Choir, and AP Spanish. I handed the secretary a copy of what I had scheduled and thanked her. Not five minutes later, she had printed out my copy along with the room numbers and teachers.

As soon as Jack had finished, we went to locate our classroom and lockers. The school was massive, I could already see myself spending the first month of class lost. Finally, after wondering around aimlessly, I located my locker. It took me three tries to get the combination lock to open. Already tired of this place I told Jack I was leaving. I was surprised at first when he didn’t follow but at the same time I didn’t really care. Our new home was only about a mile away. If he managed to get lost, well, that really wasn’t my concern.

My mom was all too eager to hear my schedule. She shouldn’t have been so surprised when I shoved it in her face, fully implying that I didn’t feel like talking to anyone. She did though. Looking like she’d been punched, she desperately asked why I was acting this way. “Clearly,” I snapped, “It’s because you and dad drug me to this hell hole called Chicago.” I didn’t wait for a reaction, I quickly walked into my room and slammed the door.

I didn’t eat dinner that night. I hadn’t eaten lunch either so I was starved. As I lay in bed I could feel another sleepless night coming on. In my head hundreds of thoughts danced around. I couldn’t manage to sort any of them out into anything that remotely made sense. I was entirely surprised when I woke up from a series of dreams the next morning.

It was amazing how sleeping had put me in a better mood. It was only 6:30 AM and I already felt immensely better than yesterday. I pulled on my newest sundress. It was plain yellow with beaded sparkly straps and flowed beautifully from my small waist down to my knees. I applied the slightest bit of eyeliner and mascara then added a thin coat of bright dark red lip gloss. As I braided my light brown hair loosely down the side of my head, I stared at myself in the mirror. This was the first time I’d dressed up since arriving. After I was entirely ready for school, I knocked on Jack’s door.

Jack hadn’t spoken to me since I left him behind yesterday. He hadn’t expected me to just walk off like that, and to be honest, it was entirely out of character for me to do something like that. Now, instead of trying to explain, I simply apologized.

“I don’t know what the hell was wrong with you yesterday Brooklyn,” he said flatly, “but whatever it was I’m over it.”

“Good, then we’ll walk to school together?” I said it as a question, not a statement. He pretended to think about it for a minute then agreed. I headed into the kitchen to grab some breakfast and wait for him to be ready.

Jack didn’t seem at all nervous as he started off down the hall for his first class and to be honest, I couldn’t tell if he was hiding his nerves or if he really was facing the day with complete confidence. I, however, suddenly wanted to go home. I would deal with Psycho Alison if I could just avoid this. I suddenly wondered why I too hadn’t asked to take online classes. As I walked to class, it took all my willpower not to turn around and run home, begging my dad to sign the withdraw form.

My first class, math, was also my most difficult. Originally, I had wanted to arrive early and sit near the back, but I had spent too long convincing myself to show up at all. As I walked in late everybody turned to stare at me, the new girl. The back row was full but I did I sat as far away from the front as possible. I tried to ignore the fact that everybody kept sneakily glancing at me, trying to form an opinion of me based solely on my appearance.

I was pretty enough, but not gorgeous I had shoulder length brown hair and light blue eyes. I few freckles dotted my nose. I was short though. Not insanely short but shorter than the rest of my family. They were all over 5’8’’. Their height dwarfed me as I stood only about 5’5’’. My physical appearance alone would not elicit cruel presumptions. I wasn’t the perfect blonde that people would the out of sheer jealousy, nor was I the misfit everyone would secretly mock. I was just me, attractive enough, but not a sex queen. Still, every time I felt someone’s eyes on me, I knew I was being judged in some way.

I wasn’t sure why I cared. I wasn’t one of them nor would I ever be. I belonged in Aspen, not at Jefferson, a school filled with people who were different than me. I hadn’t realized that being here would make me so uncomfortable, but it did. When the bell rang signaling the end of class, I was the first out of my seat and out of the room.

***

“You’re new here aren’t you.” I was busy studying my map of the school trying to locate my next class when I heard the question. The girl who had addressed me was Tall, probably about 5’ 10’’ and thin. She was gorgeous too. Her blonde hair was perfectly straight and hung clear down to the middle of her back. Her tan skin made her ice blue eyes stand out. She wore sunglasses on her head and a skirt that I was sure was in violation of the dress code. I had to make a conscious effort not to stare.

“How’d you know,” I asked.

“I could tell,” people who go here don’t need a map. “I’m pretty new here too,” she added, “But you’ll get the hang of it. Where you headed?”

“A.P. Spanish with Martinez,” I replied.

“Me too,” She smiled, “Walk with me?”

I was happy to have her to lead me to my class. As we walked, we talked. “I’m Brooklyn,” I said trying to hold the conversation.

“And I’m Cassidy. Anyway Brooklyn, where’d you move from?”

I sighed, “Aspen, I miss it their so much already.”

“Oh, Aspen,” She started, “So you’ve got money and you came to this place?”

I wasn’t surprised at her comment about having money, the assumption came with being from Aspen. With it being ranked as one of the richest towns in the Country, I got that a lot.

“Yeah,” I answered, “I’m not sure why my parents wanted to move here.”

She laughed, “I understand completely. My dad owns a casino in Las Vegas. When my parents split up about a month ago my mom started looking for somewhere to move. She ended up dragging me along with her to Chicago.” She smiled again, “It’s not so bad though, after a couple days you’ll be fine. I’ve been here for only two weeks and I’m getting used to it. It’s not the same as Vegas, but it’s not so bad.”

By the time she had finished talking we had reached the classroom. I was skeptical about what she was saying, so far it didn’t look like I would be getting used to it here. Still, I was glad I had found someone that was in basically the same boat I was.

I sat in the desk behind Cassidy. She immediately turned around and started talking to me. “Hope you know Spanish well,” She laughed, “Martinez refuses to use English.”

Fantastic, I though. I knew Spanish well enough to be in and AP class, but I hoped I knew it well enough to understand with no English.

“Can I see your schedule?” Cassidy asked.

Boy was she social. I handed it to her without really saying anything. She looked at it, then looked at me. “We have PE and lunch together too.” I’ll introduce you to a couple people I’ve met.”

“Thanks,” I said genuinely appreciating it. Maybe with Cassidy’s help this wouldn’t be so hard at all. I was about to say something more when the teacher walked in. Cassidy turned immediately around. Senor Martinez started babbling in Spanish but I tuned out. I was too overwhelmed to try and translate what it was that he was saying. By the end of class I wasn’t even sure if we had homework. I’d have to ask Cassidy later.

Before leaving for her next class, Cassidy pointed me in the direction of the choir room. It was the only class I had before lunch. Cassidy told me to wait outside the choir room after class let out. She promised she’d meet me there and walk to lunch with me. I wanted to throw my arms around her and give her a huge hug for being so friendly, but I didn’t. Instead, I thanked her for what seemed like the millionth time that day.

Choir was hell. I walked through the doors and was immediately bombarded with questions from Mrs. Cato. “Are you Brooklyn Jankowski?” “You’re Kylar Wilson’s daughter aren’t you (Wilson was my mother’s maiden name. The one she used as a popstar).” When she asked that all heads turned to stare at me. I had been trying to avoid this, I didn’t want people clinging to me just because of my mother. It hadn’t been like this in Aspen. People had known me my whole life there, long before any of them knew my mom was famous.

When the class finally ended I had people coming up to me attacking me with endless streams of questions and comments. I ignored all of them and pushed through the crowd that had formed around me. So this is what it’s like to be famous, I though. How did my mom ever manage?

I was still fighting off people when I spotted Cassidy walking down the hall towards the room. All to eagerly, I broke away from the crowd and ran up to her.

“What was that all about?” She asked motioning to the crowd .

“Nothing!” I snapped, “I mean, I don’t really know.”

She didn’t seem to take offense at my not so calm tone, instead she just looked at me. “Come on Brooklyn, It was clearly about something. You have to tell me now.”

I sighed not wanting to tell her. I actually liked Cassidy and I wanted her, in return, to like me for me, not for who I was. “I’m Kylar Wilson’s daughter, “ I whispered, “I don’t really want people finding out but somehow the choir teacher new I was supposed to be joining her class. Now everyone knows and I don’t want to deal with it.”

“She sighed,” I think I get where you’re coming from. The Casino my dad owns would always book big name performers, they even booked you’re mom for one of her last shows. Anyway I always had people I barely knew trying to be my friend so I could get them into the shows.”

I sighed, “I knew I liked you for a reason, I’ve known you for about 2 hours and you already understand me.”

“I think that’s why I don’t mind it here,” She said, “without the casino nobody can bother me about that. You still have to deal with it.”

“But I wouldn’t if my teacher hadn’t announced it to the world,” I insisted, “I almost hate my mom right now for being her.”

“Wasn’t it like this in Aspen?”

“Not really,” I started, “I’ve known most of the people in my class since before any of them knew who Kylar Wilson was. And then when they found out I think they didn’t care because they all had money themselves. It’s almost like having money makes you a sort of celebrity to the surrounding area.”