Try as I might, finding a new house or apartment that was affordable and close to Newland High was next to impossible. Dad joined me in the search, but I could tell his heart wasn't in it. One night, after hours of poring over potential homes, he glanced up at me from his computer with tired eyes and said, "I think we've hit a dead end."
We sure had. I didn't want to call it quits, but there was no other option. Even though Kimmie knew something was up, I couldn't bear to tell her. I was still in denial myself. But every time I passed Dad in his office and saw him fingering a faded old photograph of the mansion in Shady Cove, I knew the truth was inevitable.
I finally told Kimmie one fateful morning, the day after Dad made his final decision to move. It was a heartbreaking day for the two of us. Kimmie cried with me for hours, flicked through old photos and videos of us together, and attempted to give me a pep talk but only succeeded in bringing more tears to my eyes.
Now, one week later, I lay in my bed and tried closing my eyes for the hundredth time that evening. Yet after a few futile seconds of attempting to go to sleep, I groaned and gave up. It had been a long and weary month of looking for a new home, and ever since Dad had officially declared we were moving to Shady Cove, I had been plagued with long, sleepless nights.
Throwing my blankets off, I sat up in bed and let out a deep sigh. It was one in the morning, and my eyes had long since grown used to the darkness of my near-empty room. Only the bare essentials—including my mattress, pillow, blankets, and a few clothes—were left. Everything else had been packed into boxes and moved to Shady Cove.
"It's not fair," I muttered to the emptiness around me. I didn't want to be a downer, but the weight of having to move away from everything I'd ever known was crushing me. Depression had settled on me like a black cloud. I would never again walk the halls of Newland High, dive into the pool next to Kimmie, visit the local coffee shops and movie theater, or take my usual stroll home from school. I was entering a new chapter in my life, one that seemed both frightening and lonely. And I didn't want to turn the page.
As I hugged my knees to my chest, my long ebony locks fell over my face like a glittering sheen, protecting me from the desolation of my deserted room. Just then, a shaft of moonlight pierced my window, illuminating my surroundings for a fraction of a second. A ghost of a smile appeared on my lips as my hair suddenly began to glow, faintly at first and then stronger. Deep ocean-blue streaks intertwined with the midnight ebony of my hair, creating a sort of uncanny luminescence. I ran my fingers through my shimmering hair and smiled wider.
I had discovered this remarkable characteristic when I was a young girl. I had been camping in the backyard with my dad during a sultry summer evening, and when I had stepped outside the tent to look at the stars, I'd realized my hair was glowing. I'd always had long, black hair, even as a toddler, but never knew it glowed blue when exposed to moonlight. It was breathtaking, to say the least, and from that moment on I knew there had to be some connection. Dad's hair didn't glow in the moonlight, so I must have received the trait from her—and for that reason I felt like she was more a part of me.
I reached over for my cell phone to check the time—1:30 a.m. I was about to set it back down when I suddenly caught a glimpse of my reflection in the screen. With a gasp, I tilted the device ever so slightly so I could get a good look at my face.
"My eyes," I whispered into the darkness. They were glowing—there was no other word to describe it.
I didn't know whether to be excited, anxious, or horrified. After a few seconds of studying my reflection, I realized that my eyes were glowing the exact same color as the streaks in my hair—a deep sea blue.
"Amazing," I breathed. Here was yet another unique gift, one that I could only have inherited from my mother! I blinked and rubbed my eyes a few times, then glanced back at my phone. They were still glowing. I had a sudden desire to text Kimmie, but with a pang of guilt, I realized I could never let her in on such a weird and fascinating secret.
Kimmie...Oh, no, tomorrow was the big day—the day I had to say goodbye to all my teachers and friends. It was going to be rough for Kimmie and I. And afterwards, on Saturday morning, Dad and I were leaving for Shady Cove at the break of dawn.
I sighed and glanced out my window at the milky-white moon. My stomach twisted into a tight knot as I realized the peculiar dilemma I was in. I desperately wanted to tell Kimmie about my glowing powers, but now I was being ripped away from her in less than forty-eight hours. I was still puzzled as to why I had never come across anyone else with my powers, including Dad. Even though he knew about my hair, he had instructed me to never, ever tell anyone else. I knew the reason why: I would be labeled a freak.
"Maybe I am a freak," I muttered. As soon as I spoke those words, a light breeze tousled the leaves of the apple tree outside my window, and the ray of moonlight disappeared. The beautiful blue streaks in my hair vanished just as quickly as they had appeared, leaving my tan fingers stroking plain black locks once more.
I hugged my knees tighter against my chest. With a sigh, I wondered how in the world I would survive tomorrow—and then Saturday, the big moving day. A lone tear trickled down my cheek. My life was crumbling, falling through my hands, like millions of grains of sand. And I hated it.
_ _ _ _ _
Friday passed with an ill combination of dread and sadness. I went through the motions of going to all my normal classes, and yet it felt anything but normal. My teachers all regarded me with sad expressions, saying, "We're sorry to see you go," and "We'll miss you." A few of my classmates walked up and gave me cookies and brownies. The last period of the day—swim—was by far the worst. Coach didn't make anyone work out or swim laps—instead, my teammates threw a mini-party out on the pool deck, complete with balloons and cupcakes and streamers. I was touched, especially when I spotted Kimmie quietly wiping a few tears off her cheeks when the dismissal bell rang. Coach and I had a bittersweet conversation towards the end of the party, but when I spotted Kimmie sniffling near the entrance to the locker room, I politely excused myself.
My heart went out to my friend. "Hey," I said quietly as soon as she was within earshot.
"Hey." She gave me a sad smile. "So I guess this is the last time we'll stand on this pool deck together, right?" A wry laugh escaped her lips.
"No, of course not, Kimmie. We'll see each other at least once a week—I made Dad promise me that much. And I'll call you every single day to catch up with you and see how things are going. Plus, we can even write letters, just for fun."
Kimmie sniffled again before reaching over and giving me a big hug. "Okay. But it's still hard to believe that you're moving, even after all we've been through together."
"Yeah." I felt some tears of my own pricking at the corners of my eyes. "So...how about coming over to my house right now? We could hang out one last time, since Dad and I are leaving early tomorrow morning and all..."
"Of course! I'd love to, Rayne." Kimmie smiled and wiped another tear away. "Sorry I'm such a crybaby. It's not like you're moving all the way across the continent or anything."
"Don't worry. This is really hard for me too," I said truthfully. With one last mournful look at the Newland High pool, Kimmie and I strode off the pool deck and down the breezeway. We walked arm-in-arm across the browned football field, my worn Converse crunching over the leaves. That's when I knew I would miss Kimmie deeply. She had been my first and only best friend, and now I wouldn't wake up in anticipation of seeing her smiling face at school. I wouldn't have someone to laugh over stupid things and share lunch with. I wouldn't have a swim partner who knew everything about me, from my favorite stroke to my dreams for the future.
"I'll miss you, Kimmie," I said as we sat on my front porch a few hours later, watching the watercolor sunset. "Even though I'll see you next weekend, I'm still going to miss you terribly."
"Me too." A somber look crossed Kimmie's face before she suddenly jabbed me in the stomach. "But you better not find a new best friend to take my place!"
I laughed. "No way—and the same goes for you!"
Kimmie and I laughed and laughed until our stomachs hurt. It felt good to just be sitting here, watching the beautiful sunset. "You know I would never let anyone take your place," she said honestly. "Remember the pact we made in fourth grade?"
"You mean the one where signed in ketchup because neither of us wanted to prick our fingers and sign in blood?"
"Yeah, that one." Kimmie and I shared a secret smile before both of us said aloud, "Rayne and Kimmie—best friends forever."
My heart was heavy when I finally said goodnight to her. The sunset was long gone and Dad was finishing up some last-minute packing as I ambled to my room. My steps felt like lead, and my shoulders were weighed down by a burden I didn't want to bear.
"So long, Newland," I murmured.
_ _ _ _ _
The next morning I awoke to what sounded like a saber-toothed tiger scraping its claws across my bedroom door. My eyes immediately flew open. "What in the world?" I muttered. When the hideous noise continued after a few more seconds, I threw off my blankets and staggered over to the door. Flinging it open, I realized it was only Dad dragging a ridiculously huge box down the hallway.
"Oh! Rayne, you're up!" he exclaimed. "Good, we should leave in about thirty minutes."
I rubbed my eyes, hoping that by the time I glanced back up Dad would be gone and this would all be some sort of dream. But it was real, and Dad was still standing there with a goofy grin on his face. I groaned. "Are you serious?"
Dad cheerfully ignored the aggravated tone to my voice and continued to pull the box across the floor. I winced and covered my ears at the awful sound. How could this day get any worse?
As I would soon find out, though, today would get a lot worse. Not only was I running on a mere three hours of sleep, but I put my sweatshirt on backwards and spent two minutes trying to shove my left foot into my right shoe. Then Dad happened to burn my waffles and spill my orange juice all over my lap. By the time we finally got into the car, the box on the top of the pile in the backseat slid off, causing my laptop to fall out and get chipped against the door.
It was safe to say today officially sucked. I dragged myself into the front seat of the car and sulked the entire drive to Shady Cove, not even bothering to stretch my legs when they started to cramp from two hours of sitting. I didn't lift my eyes to watch the last trails of the sunrise, either, even after Dad remarked that it was the best sunrise he'd ever seen.
If he was trying to cheer me up, it wasn't working. Not even the anticipation of new adventures, new friends, and a brand-new start could excite me. In fact, it did just the opposite—it filled me with dread.
"Come on, Rayne," Dad urged. "Admit it—you're excited we're moving back home!"
I pursed my lips. Home was back in Newland. Shady Cove, on the other hand, was a nightmare of memories.
Yet it was nearly impossible to miss the glowing excitement on Dad's face when we finally pulled up to our castle of a house. "We're here!" he exclaimed, leaping out of the car and gazing at the house as if it were packed full of hundred-dollar bills. He pulled out a key from his jeans pocket, jogged across the lawn, and unlocked the front door. "Tada!" he yelled, loud enough for me to hear from where I was still seated in the car.
Dad grinned at me, obviously expecting a smile in return. I merely frowned. "Oh, come on, honey. Look alive!" he said, walking back to unload the car. "Come help me unpack, and then you can see which room I've picked out for you."
My heart started racing after he said that. I had the horrible feeling that he had picked the room—my old bedroom. The one with the picture. The one with the memories that were so raw, they nearly tore my heart in two. I couldn't go back in there.
Fortunately, my new bedroom was completely different from the one I had wandered into when Mrs. Barnes still lived here. Dad proudly led me into a beautiful, spacious bedroom on the second floor. He had spent hours renting U-Haul trailers and moving all our stuff into the house over the past week, so I wasn't surprised to see a pile of boxes already in one corner. But the picturesque furnishings tore my gaze away from my meager belongings, making my jaw drop open in shock. My new bedroom was complete with turquoise curtains and a matching bedspread, along with a roomy walk-in closet and my own bathroom. Dad said it was the second-largest of the four bedrooms in the house, with his being the biggest.
"Why don't you start unpacking your things?" he suggested. "Just holler if you need some help moving the furniture."
"Alright." I plopped down on my new bed. The bedroom was nice, for sure. Okay, so maybe that was an understatement. The bedroom was awesome. But a part of me still yearned to be back in our cozy one-storey house in Newland.
I pursed my lips and traced the design on my bedspread with a finger. After sitting in silence for a few minutes, letting everything soak in, I slowly got up and started rummaging through some boxes. I pulled out a few articles of clothing and a couple pairs of shoes before stopping. I wasn't really motivated to start unpacking.
At that moment, I desperately wanted to be anywhere but here. I turned and glanced out the window as the sound of a faint roar reached my ears. I had no clue what the roar could be, so I leaned out the window and glanced right and left, wondering where it was coming from. That's when I realized it wasn't nearby; it was below.
It was the ocean. The faint roar was the sound of waves crashing against the base of the cliffs. Though this house wasn't built on the very edge of the Redrock Cliffs, it was close enough that one could easily hear the pounding waves on a stormy day. There must have been a powerful swell causing the large waves to hurl themselves against the rocks.
I had the sudden urge to walk over to the edge of the cliffs and see the ocean up close. The feeling was so strong that I immediately turned around and walked straight out of my bedroom. It wasn't until I was outside the house that I realized what I was doing—and by then it was too late. As Dad appeared from behind the car, cradling a large box in his arms, his expression brightened when he saw me.
"Hi honey. Need some help unpacking?"
"No," I said quickly. "I'm just...just...going for a walk, I guess."
Dad's eyes lit up at the mention of a walk. "Hey, that's a great idea," he said. "Have fun, and make sure you stick to the trails. Be careful."
I shoved my hands into my sweatshirt pocket, meandered over to the side of our yard, and began following a little goat trail that wound towards the edge of the cliffs. Before long, the scraggly grass and bushes gave way to rocky ground and ugly weeds. Then the trail took a sharp turn and began to dip down, allowing me a partial view of the ocean below.
"Whoa," I breathed. Maybe going for a walk was a better idea than I'd thought. Standing on the tip of Redrock Cliffs gave me a beautiful overlook of the horizon, the broad rugged bluff, and the vast expanse of the sea. I felt another tug on my heart and continued walking, making sure to keep one hand on the makeshift railing as I made my way down the hairpin trail.
After twenty minutes of huffing and puffing, I finally reached the bottom. The trail ended with a flight of steps painstakingly cut out of the cliffs before opening out to a breathtaking view of the beach. It was smaller and somehow more picturesque than Shady Cove—maybe because it appeared to be virtually untouched by humans. Only the swishing tides and raging storms could reach this protected area of the beach. Surrounded by the cliffs on three sides and the ocean on the other, the little cove was like some sort of private beach. Maybe Dad and I owned this beach—who knew? After all, we had our own trail leading straight to it. How cool would that be?
I slipped out of my shoes and socks and buried my toes in the warm sand. A salty gust of wind whipped my hair around my face. I realized for the first time since I had arrived in Shady Cove, I was smiling. There was just something about this place—something so rugged and remote and unique—that it warmed my heart and made me feel more alive than ever.
I walked across the golden sand dunes to the water's edge, silently watching the surge of the tide and the crashing waves only yards away. The foaming crests of the waves seemed huge as they swelled to nearly ten feet in height. They slammed down onto the surface of the water with a deafening roar that should have scared me to death, but for some reason didn't. If anything, I felt invigorated by watching the shifting ocean, which seemed more alive and potent than I had realized. Despite the huge waves and the churning waters, I had the sudden urge to dive in and experience what it felt like to glide underwater. Something told me it would feel different than merely stroking across a swimming pool.
But I stopped myself. The skies overhead were darkening with the threat of another storm. A distant rumble of thunder raised goosebumps on my arms, so I hurried back to my shoes and slipped them on before making the long uphill trek to the house. My little ocean swim would have to wait for another day.