There I Go

Chapter 1

I wake up happy and refreshed after a good nights sleep. But then I remember. I'm starting at a new school in 24 hours. In a new state, in a new house, almost like in a new life.

My stomach flops, and I curl into a ball underneath my warm and protected comforter, as if that will make it go away. I might as well spend this last day doing something to keep my mind off of tomorrow. I probably won't be sleeping anyway.

I reluctantly roll out of bed and step into my walk-in closet, which is the size of a large bathroom. As usual, I have nothing to wear, so I pull out one of the hundreds of sweaters that I haven't worn anywhere but home, and pair it with some high-waist black jeans. I pull on some fuzzy blue Christmas socks in hopes to bring back circulation. I swear our house is colder than it is outside.

After putting on the outfit, I run a hand through my hair and look in the mirror. My hair hangs lifeless, tangled from twisting and turning at night. I comb my hair forcefully, grabbing a rubber band from the vanity. I twist it into a messy bun, something I am not proud of, and wander downstairs.

The house is quiet as I tiptoe through the kitchen. Everything here is foreign, from the cabinets to the shapes of the windows. Little sunlight spills into the room, because no one remembered to pull up the blinds. Boxes are stacked by the front door, and I peer at the note on the top one. A little present from me and your father.

Oh. So my mother did notice I had no clothes.

When I said I had hundreds of sweaters, I meant before the fire that took everything. I really don't have any clothes. And I still haven't gone shopping, even though I start school tomorrow. Maybe I will have something decent to wear if my mother bought what I asked for.

I dig my nails into the tape to open the largest box, eager to put an outfit together. But when I look inside, I immediately close it back up. Inside are the charred remains of my personal items that were found in the remains of the house. I don't want to think about any of that.

I stare sadly at the rest of the boxes, not so enthusiastic about opening them. I suck in a big breath and slash open the two other boxes, thankfully full of clothes. Lugging them up the stairs literally took blood, sweat, and tears.

The boxes are hard to tip over, but once all the clothes are spilled out onto the floor, I feel much better. Time to fold and shelf.

While deciding if I should keep my closet color coordinated, I hear the bell ring downstairs, long and shrill. I grab my phone and run down the stairs, cautiously peering through the peephole. The doorbell rings again, nearly making me go deaf. I unlock the door and study the older lady in front of me.

"Hello, I am Justice Lance, your next door neighbor," she points to the grey house to my left. "I brought this welcome basket I give to every family that moves here."

"Oh, uh, thank you ma'am," I say awkwardly. I didn't know people actually gave welcome gifts to new people. "I'm Blanca."

"What a beautiful name! And before I forget, call me Justice. Are your parents home?" I consider lying, but I don't think an old lady would hurt me.

"No, they're . . . on a business trip at the moment. Would you like me to tell them something?"

"Ah, no, I just wanted to meet them. It's a shame they are not here. Well, nice meeting you Blanca." She gives me a tight hug  and hands me the basket.

"Bye," I watch her clomp down the steps, then close the door. I sit on a chair by the island in the kitchen, and take off the white tissue paper she overloaded on. A plate of homemade chocolate chip cookies, and her name and phone number written on a slip of paper. I'm glad I have a caring neighbor.

I take the plate of cookies to the bay window in my room and cover myself with a blanket. I look out at the quiet street while eating the most flavorful cookies I have ever had. Outside, little snowflakes fall from the white sky, but melt when they touch the ground. It is the beginning of November after all.

I know a lot of girls say they hate snow, but I love it. Sledding is amazing, and it also means that Christmas is coming soon. I wonder how it will be here in Chicago. I've never been here before, nor have I known that my parents had a house here. I want to explore downtown soon, only I don't want to go alone.

And that brings me back to school. Will I be lonely or find some friends? I would really like the latter. I've never started at a new school, or ever wanted to. I know it is nerve racking, and who will I sit by? How will people react to my scars?

Guess I'll find out tomorrow.

A group of teenage guys turn down my street. I can see from here that they wear rich clothing. Two of them ride skateboards slowly while the others crowd near them. They take up the whole street, unaware of what a commotion they are creating. Or maybe they did know, but didn't care. Either way, I could hear them through the thick glass.

They come nearer to my house, and I realize with a jolt that if one of them looks up, they will see me in plain sight, as if I were spying on them. They could go to my school! I freeze when one of them looks right at me, but fortunately makes no revelation to my presence.

I curl underneath the blanket and peek out at the gang again. They have passed by my house and are heading down the street to the left. I take a moment to examine what they are wearing. Some wear Gucci sweatshirts, others wear windbreakers I've seen from Urban Outfitters, and they all wear new shoes, of course, mostly white.

I guess I'm going to a school where everyone acts and dresses like I do. Is that good? I don't know. It may be easier to find friends this way if we have similarities. I decide on the optimistic side of things and take out my MacBook Air to shop for more expensive clothes. I think I underestimated this school because it isn't in South Carolina.

After two hours of online shopping and spending over $5,000 at multiple stores, I remember that I haven't eaten anything but cookies since yesterday. I close my burning laptop and plug it in to charge.

The only thing my mother bought me to make was creamy mac and cheese, so I didn't have a choice like I always do. It takes me two times longer to make it then usual because I could not find any pots for the life of me. I also didn't know how to use the new high-tech stove, or where the forks were. I spill half of the bright yellow cheese powder onto the floor and my socks, and I scream from frustration. Why is a bowl of mac and cheese so hard to make?

Twenty minutes later with my stomach content, I scroll through my text messages, where my friends have texted countless times to check up on me. I sigh and close the tab, not wishing to experience any more pain today.

I switch to Safari to search up Pine Hills, to find a four star for academic learning. So it's a smart, rich high school. Great. I need to think about everything much more clearly now, or else I'll get shamed by kids with better clothes than me. I'll be fine with classes in general, because I was in mostly honors and AP classes. I need to step up my game to be the best or else I won't live up to the name I gave myself.

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Hey guys! I hope you like the story so far. I promise it will get more interesting in the chapters to come. I'll be posting every Tuesday I can!

The picture at the top is how I would imagine Blanca from behind. I couldn't find a good picture of how I would depict her from the front. But imagine her anyway you want!