Don't Blow My Cover, Heather Bright

Chapter 1: On the Bright Side

Heather

I trip over a box on my way back from the bathroom. Although it's been two months since I've moved to Idaho, I haven't completely unpacked. I'm hoping that as soon as Daddy realizes what a mistake this was, he'll ship us back to Pasadena. So far, the odds haven't been in my favor.

I check my appearance in the mirror one last time. Earlier this morning, I finally decided on the perfect first day, first impression outfit: a preppy black and red plaid pencil skirt and a plain white, button-up shirt, and black ankle boots. To finish it all off is my mother's golden locket, which I haven't taken off for the past six months.

This outfit was last of many that I had tried on and vetoed this morning. I wanted to make a good impression, hoping to fit in sooner rather than later. And expressing my style was most important without stooping to actions like showing too much cleavage. That would bring the wrong attention that I tried to leave back in California.

The first day of senior year is supposed to be exciting, but at a new school with no friends, it's nerve wracking. That's why establishing myself as the stylish new girl will hopefully attract the right friendships.

Looking in the mirror, I nod in confirmation that the outfit is perfect. Then, I slip my laptop into my brand new red Jansport backpack and then sling the bag over my shoulder. I try out a few poses with the backpack straps in different positions to determine the best way to carry it. Accessories are super important, too.

"Hey." My dad appears in the doorway of my bedroom. His sudden presence startles me, and my face reddens as I realize that I've been caught looking in the mirror. It's important that he doesn't think that I care too much. Otherwise, he'll think I'm getting comfortable here.

"You have to unpack sometime, kiddo," he says.

"I'll get around to it. I've been busy." The lie rolls off my tongue easily and based off of my dad's face, I've convinced neither of us.

I make a mental note to shove the extra boxes in the hall closet where he won't find them. Some of the boxes are too real to unpack. Like the one with my mother's jewelry. Am I supposed to unpack it and mix it with my own? I'm not ready for that finality yet. To unpack her things in a new place when she's not here to wear them.

A faint smile crosses my father's face. He's thinking about her, too. For a few seconds, we share the same look, the same thoughts.

"I know you will," he says, his tone sympathetic. "Breakfast is ready. Best way to start off the first day at a new school. And I made your favorites."

I follow him to the kitchen. In contrast to the state of my bedroom, the kitchen is completely unpacked and has been since the first week we moved in. The counter has a plate of French toast accompanied by a side of link sausage. I take the plate to the kitchen table where I sit and slather everything in syrup.

"I packed your lunch for you already. It's sitting in the fridge," he informs me, joining me at the table to eat with his own plate. "How are you feeling about today?"

Where to begin? Anxious. Sad. Overwhelmed. Like I wish the ground would open me up and swallow me up and spit me back out in Pasadena.

"Excited." I say, shoving a huge mouthful into my mouth to keep from elaborating.

In response, Dad smiles. Then, he says, "You know. This is going to be a positive change for us. I have a good feeling about this place." My throat dries up immediately. I wish he wouldn't talk about this right now. I'm anxious enough. "Intaking the mountain air is healing us already. And there's so many opportunities to explore nature around here. That's something that we didn't have enough of in California." Dad reaches over and nudges my shoulder. "Right, kiddo?"