| |
––––––––
When we drove by the sign welcoming us to Crawstone, Indiana, I let out a sigh.
Instead of heading down the highway into town, though, we turned to the left down a pothole-filled country road. A few turns later, we drove up a winding, blacktop driveway. Tall oak trees lined the drive each side. Well-manicured hedges ran along the outer edge of the property. When a huge two-story brick home came into view, I perked up. The house was enormous. Resembling the huge plantation houses in the South, the large, white columns jutted from the concrete porch like a beacon. Massive windows lined the front two stories, each one with lace curtains.
My dad parked the Camry at the end of the circular drive and said, “Why don’t you two get out and stretch your legs for a little bit while I get the keys to our new house?”
I bent forward to look up at the house again. “Who lives here?”
He smiled. “This is the Sterlings’ house.”
Of course this ginormous house would belong to the owners of the bank my father worked for. I glanced over the yard and noticed the perfect flowers lined along the porch, fern plants hanging from hooks at the top, and rocking chairs strategically placed to get the best view of the perfect yard. I stepped out of the car, bending over to get some circulation back into my legs. My mother gaped at the house and over the lawns as if she was shocked somebody could own something like this. Or she was jealous they did and she didn’t.
I eyed the windows lined along the second floor, and something caught my eye in the far one to the right. The curtain moved to the side and a face peeked out at me, the person partially obscured by the sun reflecting off the glass.
“I wonder if they’ll let me use the restroom,” my mother mumbled, dragging my attention to her.
I shrugged and then glanced back up at the stranger in the window. Then they moved just enough to figure out it was, in fact, a guy who had to be around my age. We stared at each other for a minute.
Just then, my father came back out of the house, holding up shiny keys in his hand. “You ready to see your new house?”
“I guess.” I shrugged, glancing back up at the window where I had spotted the stalker. The boy quickly retreated, the curtains swinging back into place.
“Let’s go then,” Dad said, beaming at me with a wink.
I hated when he acted happy when I was in a bad mood, but I loaded into the backseat of the car again, picturing the boy’s face from the window. I glanced back at the window as my father backed the car up. The boy had watched me, almost as if he was curious about who I was. I doubt it was because he found me attractive. The boy was probably just wondering who the people in his driveway were.
After a few minutes on another pothole-filled road, we turned onto a gravel driveway in the middle of nowhere. I spotted a house that could only be ours. The place wasn’t as immaculate as the Sterlings’ mansion, but it was nice enough. The limestone ranch-style house was nestled into a little yard surrounded by tall trees. There was a large picture window near the concrete porch, and a welcome sign hung on the door. Sure, the house was a lot bigger than the one I grew up in, but it still wasn’t home.
My father parked the car in front of the garage and jumped out excitedly. My mother followed him. I sat motionless in the backseat and stared at the house with mistrust.
The trunk popped open, and then my door swung open a moment later. “Are you going to help us carry stuff in, or are you going to sit in the hot car all day?” my mother asked with her eyebrows raised in question.
I took a deep breath and exited the car. My father handed me a suitcase filled with a few outfits and my toiletries. Following my parents methodically, I set my suitcase just inside the door to inspect the new house I’d be calling home for about a year. The place was nice inside. Dark hardwood floors, cream colored walls, and a large open floor plan where you could see the kitchen and living room in one sweep of the eye.
“Your bedroom is the first door on the right,” Dad said, pointing down the hallway on the opposite side of the empty living room.
Picking up my suitcase again, I strolled across the living room and into the hall, pausing to stare at the door that would be my bedroom. With my free hand, I swung open the door and peeked inside as though a murderer would be waiting inside for me. Instead, I spotted more hardwood floors, plain white walls, and an empty room. It was large for a bedroom. Bigger than the one I had back home. I stepped over the threshold and took it all in. There was a bi-fold door on the left that must be the closet, and another closed door on the right. Setting my suitcase down, I opened the closed door with a gasp.
“What do you think of having your own bathroom?” Mom asked from behind me.
Wow is what I thought, but I only replied, “It’s okay, I guess.”
The bathroom wasn’t enormous by any stretch, but I had my own sink, toilet, and tub with a shower. The walls, tile, and toilet were all white, reminding me of a sterile hospital room. Nothing a bright coat of paint couldn’t fix, though.
A rumble of a diesel engine caused me to turn my head in the direction of the window.
“That must be the moving truck,” Mom said. “Why don’t you go outside but stay out of their way while they load our stuff inside.”
Following her back outside into the stifling heat, I stood and watched the truck back up to our garage. Getting out of the way, I went to the front yard and sat cross-legged on the grass to watch the spectacle. A few minutes went by and I started pulling grass in between my fingertips to try tying knots into it. The grass was cool against my legs, but the air was thick and humid like back home. Sweat rolled down my back and my hair clung to my neck. I yanked the hair tie from my wrist and pulled my hair into a messy bun, then continued to tug on the grass in front of me.
The men, ranging from bad comb-overs to buff college students, loaded our boxes and furniture into the house within an hour. Their shirts were soaked with sweat, and the older men huffed and puffed as they unloaded box after box. My dad signed a piece of paper and the men loaded back into the semi and left. I sighed. Their departure meant that this move was final, and I’d be stuck here until I turned eighteen.
I looked up at the sound of another car and saw a fancy black Lexus pull into the drive. Once the car parked, a woman wearing a navy pantsuit got out, her dark hair in a perfect bun. A man with salt and pepper hair dressed in a dark grey suit got out next. He looked uncomfortable in the hot, humid air, but remained prim and proper. Actually, they both did. I assumed these were either the Sterlings, or the new realtors.
They walked up to my parents and shook hands. The woman looked my way a few times, but I tried to act like I didn’t see them. I didn’t want to meet my father’s new bosses, or the people who had sold him this house, so I just casually pulled at the grass. Then I noticed them walking in my direction with my parents. Trying to be a little bit civilized, I stood to greet the visitors.
I could smell the faint hint of alcohol on the man, but his sunglass hid any hint of bloodshot eyes. The woman, on the other hand, smelled like rose petals and hairspray.
“Jaz, this is Mr. and Mrs. Sterling. Mr. Sterling owns the company I work for, and Mrs. Sterling is the mayor of Crawstone,” Dad said, making introductions.
Mr. Sterling reached out to shake my hand in his clammy one, and I resisted the urge to wipe off my hand on my shirt. He gave me a creepy, slimy vibe. I couldn’t tell if he was staring at me or off in the distance from behind his dark lenses. Mrs. Sterling reached out and took my hands in hers.
“You must be Jazmin,” Mrs. Sterling said. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s nice to finally meet you. Your father talks about you nonstop, although I can’t recall your age. How old are you?”
I pulled my hand away from her strong grip and replied, “Seventeen.”
“Wonderful! I have a son your age.” She sighed and turned to my parents. “Doesn’t time just fly by anymore? It seems like just yesterday I held my boy in my arms and changed his diapers. Now my baby is a senior in high school!”
“I know how you feel,” Mom said. “Just the other day Jazmin was learning to ride a bike and now look at her. She’s growing too fast for me to catch up with her.”
I cringed, but quickly recovered. I didn’t think my mother even remembered me as a child anymore.
“Are you excited about starting a new school? Crawstone may be small, but we have the best record for education in the state,” Mrs. Sterling stated.
“I guess.” I shrugged.
“It’s a wonder she’s being this good about the move. I couldn’t imagine what my boy would do if I pulled him away from home and moved away.” She smiled, and I avoided rolling my eyes.
“Yes, well, Jazmin is quite the fighter,” Dad replied with a smirk in my direction.
“Is she now?” Mr. Sterling raised his eyebrows at me, speaking for the first time. There was an awkward pause and then he said, “Well, I’m sure this will feel like home to you soon.”
Dad shook his head. “I hope so. She has her mother’s tenacity and my smart wit. Jaz doesn’t back down easily, and anyone who crosses her doesn’t stand a chance.”
I couldn’t help but shuffle my feet at the way Mr. Sterling eyed me curiously and the way his wife watched me with untrusting eyes. What was with these two?
“Oh! I almost forgot,” Mrs. Sterling said. “Have you registered her for school yet?”
“No, we haven’t,” my father answered. “We’ll get it taken care of soon, I promise.”
“Be sure you do. We’d like to get her situated as soon as possible.” She fanned her face. “My, it’s gotten hot this year. I’ll leave you to unpack, and I hope to all see you soon.”
“It’s great meeting you, Jazmin,” Mr. Sterling said and he gave me a genuine smile.
While my parents said goodbye, I stood with my arms crossed and watched the couple leave. Mr. Sterling followed his wife back to the car like a lost puppy dog. He didn’t say much, but I didn’t blame him. His wife seemed like she wore the pants in the family.
After the car backed down the driveway and the arrogant people left, I hoped that I would be able to make friends in this small town. Maybe I’d get to meet the mysterious boy from the Sterlings’ house. If he would even talk to me, that is.
*****
Later that night, my father came into my room and I popped my earbud from my ear. “Are you hungry? We ordered pizza.”
I opened my mouth to tell him no, but my rumbling stomach gave me away. Heading into the kitchen, I loaded my plate with two pieces of pizza, a breadstick, and grabbed a can of Diet Coke. Taking a bite as I walked, I moved into the living room where our couch and tables had been unpacked.
My dad sat in the recliner, flipping through channels.
“We have cable?” I asked, blinking in shock.
“Well, not cable. We’re too far out in the country for that. But we have satellite,” he said, taking a huge bite of a breadstick.
“Cool!” I said, plopping down on the couch and spreading out to relax and eat my pizza.
We normally didn’t get this luxury. I was used to a fuzzy TV that had the large, metal digital receiver on the outside of the house. No more static-filled television, no more metal antenna, or three channels if I was lucky. Now I would have an abundance of channels to watch. In addition to satellite television, I discovered we had fast internet. I was in heaven.
That’s exactly what I did for two days straight. Watched television while surfing the internet. I discovered MTV, VH1, and CMT, but was disappointed that they didn’t really play any music videos. Well, not unless it was in the wee hours of the morning.
Currently planted in front of the TV with my laptop on my lap, Dad caught my eye as he strolled into the room and sat down on the couch.
“We got your dates for school today,” he said.
“Uh huh,” I answered, but I wasn’t really listening. I was engrossed in my new favorite sitcom.
“School starts here very soon.”
“Uh huh.”
I shot my dad a look when the TV shut off. “Hey!”
“Did you hear a word I just said?”
Okay, he had me there. “Sorry.”
“I said that we got your school schedule today. School here starts in two days,” he repeated.
“What?!” I cried, slamming my laptop closed and setting it to the side. “I should still have about a week and a half left!”
He scratched the scruff on his chin. “Well, I guess they do things differently here.”
I jerked the paper out of his hand and stared at it. Crawstone High started their first day of school on Wednesday. Who, in their right mind, starts school on a Wednesday? I read the paper again in shock and blinked a few times hoping it was an illusion. It wasn’t.
“I have more news for you.” He sighed, rubbing his chin again. “They have a very strict dress policy at the school too.”
“Okay, so like back home. No tank tops, cutoff shorts, or stuff like that.”
“No, not quite.” When I lifted my eyes from the paper and raised an eyebrow, he continued, “Well, um, they have school uniforms.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” I instantly pictured plaid skirts, knee-high socks, and crisp, white shirts. I shuddered. “This has to be a joke.”
“I wish I was, kiddo, but they truly do have uniforms here,” he said and then winced. “Since you were not enrolled until last week, your uniforms won’t be here until the end of the week. So you’ll have to attend a few days in regular clothes.”
Not only did I have to wear a uniform, but also I had to go a few days in regular clothes when everyone else wore a uniform. Great. Nothing like standing out on your first day.
