In the Shadows

Part One: the Move

    The house was quiet, stacked high with cardboard boxes. We had barely made a dent in unpacking our life before calling it a night. After sharing some pizza, seated on the floor, my parents wandered off to bed. My brother disappeared into his room as well, leaving me all alone.

    I walked the layout of our new home, exploring the downstairs corners. The sun had set and it seemed all the life on our street was going to bed early as well. This was our first night in California as residents. I used to spend every summer in this town, but visiting never got me used to how cold the nights were.

    I pulled the blanket on my lap all the way up to my chin. In doing so the lighter slipped out of my cigarette box and fell to the floor.

    Just my luck. I thought to myself, watching it slide across the floor and under the railing. My balcony wasn't very high but the sound of the plastic clattering against the floor told me my lighter was broken.

    I walked back inside, hiding my cigarettes under the mattress before sneaking downstairs. Based on the volume of my dad's snores, I doubted my parents would hear me walking outside. I pulled my long dirty blonde hair back into a low pony tail before zipping up my favorite hoodie: it was oversized, beaten up from over use, and all black with the word 'Chicago' across the front in large white letters. After having moved so many times, I made a habit of collecting clothes from my towns. This would be move number fifteen. School number twelve. Each time we relocated our parents would tell my brother and I that 'this was going to be where we would stay'. It didn't take long to know that wasn't going to last.

    I knew this house would be for at least one year. My older brother was about to start his senior year of high school, and my parents wouldn't make us pack up in the middle of that. Not for him, that is.

There was no way for me to know what was going to happen in a year. But I knew what my plan was going to be; this time would have no new friends, no more goodbyes. I grew tired of the heart aches. I was a bit different than the other girls at my past schools and never quite fit in. By the time I found people willing to be friends with me, I had to pack up and leave. Not this time. This year, I am only going to focus on my art and keep to myself.

    Standing in the dark street, I squinted to try and spy my lighter. In a puddle by the curb, there it was: broken. I rolled my eyes and scooped up the pieces to hide in the trash can. As I moved around the bags of garbage to cover my secret, I looked down the darkened street.

    There weren't many streetlights here, nor did many people keep their porch lights on overnight. The homes in this neighborhood all looked much nicer than the places I lived before. This cozy neighborhood was nestled into lush green foothills. It wasn't a far drive from anywhere you wanted to go; a major city, snow capped mountains, or even the beach. Everyone who lived here, seemed to stay here for their whole lives. It was obvious why, California was painfully beautiful.

    I wanted to enjoy this new place, but my stomach was in knots. From the moment the plane touched down in foggy San Francisco, I was waiting for the knife to drop. Something big was just around the corner.

The next day started late. The early mid day sun was spilling in from the open window, much to my cat's delight. He slept deeply in the middle of the sun spot, when we awoke to the sound of my dad's cheery voice.

"Up and at 'em! It's a new day with lots to do! Saturday is yard work day!" He boasted.

I groaned, covering my head with a pillow. There's nothing a teenage girl loves more than mowing the lawn on weekends.

Walking downstairs, I dodged the minefield of packing paper and bubble wrap. My mom was halfway through unloading the kitchen supplies before realizing she was nearly out of space.

"Morning!" She called from behind the boxes. "Ready for some breakfast?"

I looked at the empty pantry, "Uh.. Sure?"

"Perfect! I need an excuse to take a break. Here, you finish unloading the silverware and I'll find my purse. I'm sure there's somewhere around here to get some food."

And off she went, grabbing her car keys off the counter. My dad looked at her half confused.

"I thought we were all doing yard work today." He whined.

Mom and I drove for less than 10 minutes before arriving at the local bagel shop. It wasn't as busy since it was later in the morning, but considering the way the counter looked picked over, this must be a townie favorite. With only three small round tables and a couple chairs, the shop decorated its walls with posters from community events: Help wanted, Fourth of July fireworks downtown, spin classes at the YMCA, and posters of old and upcoming sporting events for students. Behind the counter a few older men got to work rolling the dough for tomorrow's batch of donuts and bagels, while another typed orders into a computer that looked older than the store itself.

We stood in line, glancing over the menu when a gaggle of teenage girls wandered in behind us. They rambled loudly about who was doing hair, color coordinated dresses, who else would be attending, and at what time they would meet up at the dance.

"A dance! Tonight?" My mom's head whipped around.

"The back to school dance." One girl said.

Another said, "Yeah, like, everyone is going."

"At the high school? Oh, that's great! What time does it start? This is my daughter, Stephanie. Does she need a ticket? She could use some friends."

I wanted to disappear.

"Stephanie, say hi. Make some friends!" My mom rambled on.

"I'm Katie." One of the girls said, snickering.

"Stephanie, why don't you go with the girls to get your nails done too! You can finally wash that paint out from under your nails."

The girls looked at me and laughed.

Kill me.

I knew deep down they found the situation- mom's enthusiasm- comical. I couldn't resist feeling self conscious about it all. I never got the girly thing right. I didn't know the best way to style my hair or how to paint my nails, I never knew what the trendy outfits were or the right way to style them. It used to not bother me. But in the few days we've been in California, I noticed the girls here bring pretty to a whole new level. They all seemed effortlessly feminine, soft and beautiful. I was surrounded by tall, tan legs, flawless skin, and pearly white teeth. I felt shorter and stockier than ever. My frizzy hair could never compare.

"Next!" The cashier called out.

    My savior

    We placed our order and sat to eat. As the group of girls got their bag of breakfast items and large iced teas, my mom waved goodbye. They waved sarcastically, walking away, and then they carried on with their errands. However, my embarrassment went nowhere. I picked at the edges of my blueberry muffin, unable to find my appetite. My mom spent the rest of the meal convincing me to go to the dance.

    "I just don't want to go to some stupid dance, okay?" I snapped.

    My mom got mad. "Don't get an attitude with me. I don't know what's gotten into you lately, but you can't just waste your life sitting at home doing nothing all day. It won't kill you to make some friends."

    "It's embarrassing enough always being the new kid. You really want me to walk into a school dance ALONE?"

    She nodded stiffly with a straight face. This was beginning to feel like some sort of punishment.

    "You're going." she said, "Dad will drop you off."

    We drove back to the house in tense silence. I wasn't doing a good job being invisible, and classes haven't even started yet. Despite how little I wanted to meet new people, I now faced an even bigger dilemma. Everything I owned was still in a box. What the hell am I going to wear?