Washington was a place where everyone knew one thing: the weather was extremely unpredictable. One minute it could be pouring rain and literally the next minute, the sun would be shining brightly, glistening in the remaining puddles in the streets. As much as everyone who lived here complained about Washington's weather, it was nice to experience all the variations of weather there could be.
California was different. I've only been here a week and it's clear that the place hardly sees anything other than sun, alongside beautiful, spotty-clouded skies. My new home is different in more ways than just it's climate, however.
My family moved down here because my father was finally able to buy his dream vineyard. What was previously known as Harper Vineyard is now under our family name, Burns Vineyard. Our new house is on location at the Vineyard which my parents are very pleased about.
As one can imagine, the house is huge and extremely beautiful. We also had a nice house back in Washington, but it seems to be nothing compared to this one.
Since we own all the property around, there isn't a neighbor for a couple miles which I'm not complaining about. Almost immediately, I could tell how incredibly peaceful it is around here; the only life around was the plants and the horses we had on the ranch.
Our house has three bedrooms other than the master (which indubitably went to my parents), so I was given the opportunity to choose which of the three I wanted as mine. The first two rooms were lovely but I didn't have a second thought once I saw that third room; it was my dream room.
Complete with a balcony to the west overlooking the vineyard, a walk-in closet and a large set of windows with a window seat, I couldn't be happier. Another thing I was grateful for was the opportunity to get an entirely new wardrobe. Before we left, I sold all of my old clothes to get money for the clothes I've longed to wear, but never was able to because it wasn't warm enough.
I had a very small circle of friends in Washington that I truly wasn't that close with, so as insensitive as it may sound I wasn't too upset about saying goodbye. I am excited to try to make new friends at my new school, but I am well aware of how big of a challenge it could be.
This is mostly because it is already the start of junior year of high school and mid-October. I have decent faith in my social skills, though. I'm always a little shy at first but I'm able to initiate and hold conversations just fine.
Needless to say, living here is without a doubt a huge change but it's not one that I'm complaining about. I'm only interested in seeing how well I, along with my parents, will be able to adapt to it.
~
Saturday morning, I wake up feeling rejuvenated at nine thirty in the morning. After a refreshing shower that leaves me smelling like roses, I do my hair and make-up before getting dressed in a short flow-y dress and sandals.
I grab my phone off my vanity and close my door behind me before jogging down the large staircase. Walking into the kitchen, I see a plate of chocolate chip pancakes that are still warm.
Assuming they're meant for me, I dig in right away, savoring the sweet taste of the melted chocolate in my mouth. I almost scrape the plate clean before sticking it in the dishwasher. Much to my delight, I'm able to find some strawberries in the refrigerator, when I finally notice my mom in the living room.
Her dainty hands are emptying some of my gymnastics trophies from a box and setting them on a shelf on the wall.
"Good morning," I call to her as I plop down on the couch.
"Oh," she says as if she's startled to hear my voice. "I thought I heard someone in the kitchen."
The box is empty now and she collapses it while she turns around to face me, "Well, don't you look cute!"
"I told you your money was going towards a good cause," I smile at her comment.
She laughs and sets the box on the coffee table, "We have a lot to get done today, you know."
"Yeah, I know. That's the only reason I would wake up at this time on a Saturday. Did dad already head down to the fields?"
"Sure did. Just a few minutes before you came down."
"We should be on our way then too, don't you think?"
My mom turns her brown eyes to the clock; it's nearly eleven.
She then nods at me, "Go ahead and take my car keys. I just have to get my things and I'll be there."
"Okay!" I exclaim before grabbing my own purse and taking her keys down from the hooks in the entryway.
All three of our cars are very different. My mom drives a small, white, four-door Fiat; My dad drives a gigantic black Chevy truck. As for me, I am now lucky enough to drive a brand new, black Range Rover. Our second day here, my parents surprised me with it as a late seventeenth birthday present which I cried about because of how happy and grateful I was. Apparently they wanted me to be able to get to school easily but warned me not to abuse my privileges.
It's not like they had to worry, though. I'm not a trouble-maker; I hardly get into trouble, but I guess there's a first time for everything.
I turn the key to start mom's Fiat and wait patiently for her to come outside. Passing the time by looking for the good radio stations in California, I finally see her walking down the front stairs. She climbs in the driver's seat and adjusts the mirrors, then pulls her sunglasses off the top of her long blonde hair and down to rest on her nose. We pull out of the driveway and onto the long gravelly road ahead.
It takes us an entire three minutes just to get off of our property and we begin to pass a lot of other pretty houses. My mom uses the GPS on her phone to get to the studio we're looking for. She's a photographer, and has been looking at a new studio to buy for her business.
She has had her eye on this one and we're going to look at it in person together. My mother came down to Cali about a month ago to look at it herself and she loved it. Today, we will probably seal the deal.
We pull up to our destination and just from the outside, I'm able to tell how lovely the studio is. A man clad in an all black suit and blue tie meets us at the doors with a large smile on his face. I smile back at him as he shakes mother's hand and introduces himself.
"Mrs. Burns!" he has a smooth voice. "Lovely to meet you again!"
"It's a pleasure," my mom grins back at him. "This is my daughter, Anita."
"Nice to meet you, Anita! Hank Roscoe," he shakes my hand firmly. "Shall we step inside?"
"By all means."
It's easy to see how ecstatic my mother is about this.
Mister Roscoe takes us on a tour of the open, rather large studio. It's even more fabulous than it appeared in the pictures online, and from the smile on my mother's face I can tell she's thinking the same thing. She tells me about the things she pictures herself doing with different areas of the studio and I smile at her side, imagining with her.
"So what do you think?" Mister Roscoe asks with a grand gesture of his large hands.
"I'm in love with it!" My mother exclaims. "Even more than before!"
He smiles then turns to me, "How do you like it?"
"I think it's amazing," I nod. "Not that my opinion really matters."
They laugh a little and Mister Roscoe pulls up his briefcase, "You think it's time we make it a done deal?"
Mom glances at me a second, "Nothing would make me happier."
They take a long thirty minutes to talk and look over the contract which bores me, so I decide to scroll through one of my social networks to pass the time. Finally, I see my mom handing Mister Roscoe his pen back and they shake hands, the smiles never leaving their faces.
We get back in the car and it's all smiles and happiness as we head to the bank. The whole way there, mom talks about how excited she is to open her studio. I'm excited for her, too. Finally reaching the Bank of America, mom gets out of the car and goes inside while I wait.
I take the opportunity to continue my search for a decent radio station and finally I have some success! I turn it up a little as an addictive pop song plays through the speakers. I sing along and tap my fingers to the beat which I'm still doing wholeheartedly when my mom gets back in the driver's seat.
She smiles and pulls out onto the road, and she soon starts laughing when I sing louder (albeit somewhat obnoxiously) and dance in the seat.
"You have a wonderful voice, you know," she says after she's not laughing anymore.
"I try," I say, wondering if she's joking, considering my silly tone.
"You should sing around the house more often," she says then, which makes me realize that she is being serious.
A stupid song about some girl taking selfies comes on next, so I turn it down completely. I get happy again as I see a Starbucks coming up on the right. I know my mom loves the place as much as I do, so convincing her to go shouldn't be too much of a challenge.
"Mom!" I exclaim as we slow to a stop at the red light.
"What?!" she asks, thinking she's done something wrong.
"Starbucks!" I point to where it is and she looks over at it.
"What do you need Starbucks for?"
"Because I'm basic, mom."
"I don't know what that's supposed to mean. It does sound pretty good, so... I guess we're taking a left."
I clap my hands excitedly as she switches lanes and turns right. We park in the front and walk inside. There's quite a few people in here, as one would expect, so the line has about six people in it. After we get in line, two more people come up behind us too. I get excited as we move up and I see that there's only one person in front of us.
Suddenly I feel a hard jerk on the back of my head; someone pulled my hair! I yelp out a little and my hand rushes to the back of my head. I turn around to see who has my hair in their grimy little hands and my anger subsides when I see it's a baby who couldn't be any more than ten months old.
A girl who looks about my age is holding him and I can see that she's working on getting my brown and blonde hair out from his little hand.
"I'm so sorry," she apologizes. "He really likes to play with hair that's long and pretty."
"It's alright," I reassure her as my hair is finally released. The baby's big green eyes are staring into mine as he smiles and I see that they match the girls'. "Is he your little brother?" I ask.
The girl nods, "Little Andreas. I take him almost everywhere with me. My parents work all the time."
I nod at her in understanding, but before I can say anything she asks me a question, "Are you in high school?"
"Yeah, I'm in eleventh grade."
"So am I," she readjusts Andreas. "That's weird, I've never seen you around. There's only five high schools in this town."
"I just moved here," I explain. "I'll be starting at Chatsworth on Monday, though."
"No kidding!" she smiles, flashing her pearly white teeth. "That's my school! Maybe I'll see you around."
"Yeah, maybe," I grin. "I'm Anita."
"Ivy."
I turn around to order my drink and wave goodbye to Ivy on the way out.
~
At half past one, mom and I are finally heading to Chatsworth High School to get me officially enrolled as a student. We pull into the parking lot and it's hard not to look at the school; it's humongous and made of beautiful deep red brick. There's ivy growing on parts of the building, framing windows and doors wondrously. The overall architecture is astounding and I can't get over how pretty those smooth bricks look in the gleaming sun.
We get out of the car and walk through an amazing courtyard that's shaded in some parts by large oak trees. Mom makes a comment on the school's beauty and I'm quick to agree; if there's one place I have to look at five days a week, I'm glad it's this one.
We enter the school and its interior is only slightly less amazing than the exterior. A short hallway stretches in front of us with the Nurse's office on the right and a Conference room on the left. Directly in front of us is the Main office where we aim our walking. When we enter the office, the lady at the desk smiles at us as she continues typing.
Her ridiculously fast typing comes to a slow but steady halt as we approach the desk, and she looks up at us through her square-rimmed glasses.
"Hi there!" she says a bit cheerfully. "How can I help you?"
"Hi," mom says. "I'm here to finish the enrollment process for my daughter here."
"Of course," she walks over to a file cabinet. "Name?"
"Anita Burns."
She fingers through files until she finds one that is apparently mine. Walking back over towards us, she looks through the papers inside of the file.
"Looks like we've got your transcript and everything," she nods, then pulls out a good stack of papers from a drawer in her desk. "I just need the two of you to go over these forms and fill out the required information. Just come let me know when you're done." She smiles and hands the papers to my mom along with a black ballpoint pen with a fake flower taped to the end.
We go through all the papers, which is the most boring part of the whole ordeal. We have to sign quite a few things, give emergency information and more. Fifteen minutes later, we finally finish and bring the completed forms back to the lady who I see is named Miss Weber. Miss Weber greets us with a kind smile.
"All finished?" she asks.
"Yep," I say as she takes the stack from me.
"Alright, well here are some things we give to new students such as yourself," Miss Weber hands me a few pamphlets and papers. "Come and see me on Monday so I can give you your schedule and locker information."
"Okay," I say as I wonder why I couldn't just get them now.
"Look's like that's all," she finalizes with another smile. "Thanks for coming in, ladies. See you on Monday, Anita!"
"Thank you!" I grin back before mom and I walk back to the car.
On the drive back home, mom and I don't talk much. Music plays at an adequate volume while I look through the things Miss Weber had given to me. There's a map of the school (which is pretty big), a student handbook, a list of staff and their contact information, a school lunch menu, the bell schedule and the school's calendar that has been conveniently filled with school events, vacations, dances, assemblies and more.
My Starbucks cup is empty so I throw it away when I get home, along with the school lunch menu - I always bring lunch from home. I brush my teeth and climb into bed at ten. After a while I grow too tired to keep my eyes open. I allow them to close and lay there comfortably until suddenly I'm no longer conscious.