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A new address, a new house, a new school, the new girl…
“Mom, just because you’re thin enough to fit in my clothes, doesn’t mean you can, or even should for that matter, wear them,” I said, rolling my eyes at her reflection in the mirror.
She just stared back at me, unbothered by what I’d said.
She turned her attention back to fixing her long black as night hair, and said, “Honey, one day you’ll understand.”
“What’s there to understand about YOU wearing MY clothes?”
She didn’t even bother to say anything and just continued straightening the tank top she was wearing, my tank top.
“Ugh! Whatever, just remember to put it back where you found it when you’re done? I’m going to go finish unpacking my stuff.”
I walked down the hall and hesitated before the door to my… room.
I sighed and opened the door. I walked over to plump down on my bed and look around my room. My bed frame was set up, mattress bare. Only one box laid open, which of course, contained the clothes that I couldn’t fit into my suitcase. You see I LOVE clothes; whether they’re the ones I design myself or the ones that I buy with the shiny gold credit card my “dad”, gave me out of guilt. You see, he’s the reason for my parents’ nasty divorce; he cheated on my mom with his 20-year-old receptionist, I know, such a cliché.
Well you can’t pick your family, can you? It seems there’s an abundance of things you can’t pick or change. For example, me moving away from my home in New York to move to Greensboro, North Carolina I mean who’s ever even heard of this place? I haven’t, that’s for sure.
I sat there lost in my thoughts, when my mom popped her head into my room.
“So, how about we go unpack the living room and kitchen before bed?”
“Sure. Why not? It’s not like I have anything better to do.”
Like usual she ignored my frumpy response, she’s been doing that since the day we got in the car and drove away from New York, my New York, the place where I have lived my whole life. Where I learned to ignore the crazies and beggars, who talked to themselves. The place where Annabelle and I would laugh at all the rich guys who wore clothes meant to be slumming, but were so designer that you could tell, even if you weren’t born into money and knew designers by first glance. I tried thinking positively about how a fresh start was a good thing, but I absolutely know I’m going to hate it here.
“Hey sweetie,” my mom said, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“I was wondering if you wanted to come with me to register you for school tomorrow. I hear they have a great clothing design program there,” she replied looking up at me hopefully.
“I don’t want to go; I just want to stay…home…” I hesitated. “You know get used to the place.”
“Yeah, of course,” she replied looking away from me and towards what she was unpacking. “Maybe you’ll meet some of the neighbors.”
“Sure…” That will be interesting.
We continued unpacking the rest of the boxes. My best friend, Annabelle, if she were here, would probably not be able to open the boxes, let alone actually unpack them, she was always dumbfounded by the fact that my mom made me do chores and didn’t just hire a maid. My mom was born with barely any money to her name, so she always believed in not spoiling me, while every other teenager in America had to clean for themselves. That was an otherworldly concept in the world that I lived in, full of rich kids that have plastic surgeons and dermatologists on their speed dial. I was one of those rich kids, but been cast out.
Ok, don’t get me wrong, I have tried having a better attitude about all of this, it’s just that... I was born in the most amazing city in the world, so how can anywhere else compare. Maybe London or somewhere else in Europe could, but North Carolina? Where did my mom get the idea in her head to move to Greensboro?
After we finished unpacking and rearranging the furniture, many times, I went to my room and started digging around through boxes looking for my bed sheets. I finally found them and threw my comforter and pillows on my bed. The comforter is black and has neon colored splatters on it. I curled up under the warm blanket of protection and drifted into a deep, exhausted sleep.
When I woke up, my mom was already gone. Great. I went on a scavenger hunt for something to eat.
It’s amazing what you can get done in one night, our living room and kitchen were completely unpacked.
I was in the middle of opening one of the cupboards to look for my mandatory breakfast cereal, Reeses puffs, the most genius invention ever, when the doorbell rang. I closed the cupboard with a groan. When I opened the front door a tall dark haired guy, around my age was standing there holding a plate of something wrapped in foil. He looked at me and I stared back into his unusual forest green eyes . He smiled then a dazzeling white smile that would make any girl swoon.
“Hey, my name is Jesse. I live next door and my mom sent me over here to drop off some brownies for your family. It’s her way of welcoming you guys to the neighborhood,” he said smiling, that disgustingling cute smile.
“Uhm… yeah tell I said thank you,”I said taking the plate from him and slowly started to inch the door closed.
“Your welcome. Do you have a name?”
“Well Alex, welcome to the neighborhood,” oozing charm and kindness. “Is the rest of your family here?”
“Not that it’s any of your buisness, but my mom is out registering me for school.”
His smile didn’t even falter at my harsh tone and he asked,” How old are you?”
“17,” I didn’t know why I didn’t just slam the door in his face, but I couldn’t physically move a muscle. My mind screaned at mt body to obey me.
“Me too. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
“How do you know if I’d be going to the same school,” I asked narrowing my eyes.
His smiled faltered a little, but he continued. “ Well the school is three blocks from here so I just figured.”
“If you’re the same age as me how come you’re not at school now?”
“My mom has to work so I’m looking after my little brother, he’s sick. “
“Well, that’s sure nice of you,” I said only a little sarcastically. I don’t know what it is, but I don’t buy his whole good guy act.
“Well, what can you do, it’s family,” he said sliding his hands into his pockets and looking at me from beneath the black bangs of his shag.
“I better get back to my little brother, tell her mom I said hello,” he turned around and walked briskly across the lawn and into the yard next to mine.
I shut the door and walked back towards the kitchen. I placed the plate of brownies n the counter and shook my head. What kind of person has the time to be make brownies for new neighbors? I shivered thinking about my neighbor’s mom being a stepford’s wives robot, you know the movie with Nicole Kidman?
I found my box of reeses puffs and threw down a bowl with some milk. I thought about Jesse and thought about his unusual green eyes. All that charm and kindness may work on other girls, but it won’t on me. With that thought in mind I finished my cereal in peace.
That night, I sat on my bed looking at the boxes that littered every surface of my room. I went to one of the boxes and opened it, it contained my camera and probably more than a thousands printed pics of anything and everything. Let me explain,there are two things that I absolutely love to do and that’s designing clothes and taking pictures. People are always surprised when they find that out. When they look at me they expect me to be airheaded and vapid. But the truth is, I actually get straight A’s with the occasional B. I was the main photographer for my last school’s yearbook for two years running, but it did give me an alibi to go to all the parties and such. I was counted on to constantly be found with my camera either stuck to my face or hanging from around my neck . It drove my friends insane!
I shut the box hastily and found a place to shove it in the back of my closet/bathroom. That’s one thing I have to give props for, my room actually has a HUGE walk in closet and it’s own bathroom. I hadn’t expected this luxury in this new house. I seperated my bedding and other basic necessities from the rest of the boxes.I, then stuffed the boxes into the back of my closet. This isn’t my home, so why bother unpacking it and treating it like one?
I set to work making my bed. After a series of stretching, lifting, and perfecting my bed, I set to work putting my clothes away( this was going to take a while).
2 ½ hours later
I surveyed my work and was thoroughly impressed, if I say so myself. I glanced at the boxes neatly stacked in the corner and threw a loose blanket over them. I turned and exited my closet without a glancing back and shut the the double doors behind me
That night I could barely sleep. I tossed and turned all night long.
I woke up feeling like I was a pig headed towards the slaughter house. But in my case it was even worse. I was headed to a new school, It was probably filled with the fashion-impaired and people who thought Myspace was still cool. I shuddered at the thought. Well… I might as well get it over with. I went to my closet and picked out a midnight blue sundress and a brown leather jacket, that reaches halfway up my arm. Then, some georgous heels that match my jacket. I put on a series of necklaces and curled my hair Selena Gomez style. I spritzed myself with some Chanel no. 5. I slung my bag over my shoulder and headed out.
My mom let me borrow the car, we couldn’t afford mine anymore. When I got to the school, I found a space right away, right outside a building stated to be the main office. I walked in the doors and immediately started shivering, the office was arctic cold! The ladies behind the desk seemed oblivious to the cold.
30 minutes later, I finally made it out of there with my life, schedule in hand. First period had already started and I had no idea where I was going, so I decided to hunt my locker down before I headed to class. It took me about 10 to 15 minutes. I tested my combo, like the lady told me to and then hung my hobo bag from the hook. I looked over my schedule and saw I had history first period. I looked down the seemingly deserted hallway, to see if there was anyone around at all to help me. When I found none, I set off to find room 119 by myself.
I found it down the hall from my locker and there were only 10 minutes left in class. I walked upto the teacher, who looked like he was sleeping in his chair, his chin rested on his chest and I swear he was drooling…ok… ew!
“Who? What,” He sat up abruptly in his chair, looking around dazed.
“I’m a new student,” I said in a bored and slightly impatient tone of voice.
“Oh,” he sat up straighter, “ couldn’t have gotten here at the beginning of class could ya?
I just gave him a blank stare. You’d think a teacher would be a little more nicer.
“Just choose a seat anywhere and we’ll get you started up tomorrow.”
I chose a seat in the very back and sat there quietly, enduring long, calculating stares from everybody in the class. The guys seeing if I was new game and girls seeing if I was going to be a problem in their dating conquests. I sighed, this is going to be a long day…