An Angel's Task

Arrival

I'm here! I'm finally here! I thought to myself as my plane came in for a landing. I had arrived in Los Angeles, the city of angels.

My first week of school was still a few weeks away, but since I was recruited onto the gymnastics team I got flown in a month early for training just like the rest of the athletes. I was so excited to finally leave home. Not that home was much of a home anyway. I was just there because I didn't have the means to go anywhere else.

I was 18 now, so my foster parents legally had no more control over me. They did what they could to help me in my transition to independence, but they were a poorer family with other mouths to feed. Luckily, through hard work and probably a bit of random chance, I had secured a full ride to attend the school of my dreams.

As I waited at the baggage claim, I kept glancing down at my phone to check the time. There was a shuttle coming soon to pick people up, and I didn't want to hold anything up. I bounced nervously on my toes, while I waited. I didn't have much by the way of luggage, just my backpack, my old gym bag, and a single suitcase. The suitcase was half empty because most of my clothes were geared towards New Hampshire's cold disposition. Since the scholarships I received overpaid my college needs, I had a bit of extra cash to replenish my wardrobe with some LA fashion. Not that I truly knew where to start looking.

Eventually, my bag came around the baggage claim's moving belt and I snatched it off the conveyor. The shuttle was coming to pick us up from G7 which a glance at the airport map denoted was not too far from my current position. I rushed over at a brisk walk, weaving my way through the throngs of people around me.

I got to the meeting area and was able to pick out a group of 5 people around my age standing at the curb of one of the shuttle pickup zones. I approached them, decently sure they were who I was supposed to be with.

"Hey, are you guys here for the UCLA shuttle?" I asked.

"Yup, it looks like you made it just in time." One girl responded, pointing to an approaching vehicle.

It was a white van with the UCLA logo emblazoned on its side. It came to a stop in front of us and a short woman hopped out of the driver's side door.

"Hey, Bruins!" She said enthusiastically, "I'm Lisa, I'll be your driver today."

Everybody returned her greeting as she rounded the van to open the trunk.

"Let's just get your luggage situated back here and then we'll be off to campus!"

One by one we all hoisted our bags into the trunk and filed into the van. I was the last to enter and had to squeeze by the front seat to the back, where another girl was already sitting. After clipping in my seatbelt, the engine roared to life and we pulled away from the curve.

"So, where are you from?" I asked my seatmate.

She turned her head to me, with a look of confusion. As if she didn't expect me to speak to her. The girl made a motion with her hands and said something. At least I think she did. Her lips moved and I felt like I heard her, but I couldn't tell what she said.

"What was that?" I inquired.

"Umm... I'm from Florida. What about you?" She responded. In her voice, I could detect the accent of a Spanish speaker.

"I'm from New Hampshire. Seems like we're from opposite ends of the east coast." I joked.

"Yeah, I guess so." She responded.

"What preseason are you here for? I'm here for gymnastics." I said.

"I'm here for the soccer team." Was her response.