Sabrine + Dylan

Avondale Street: A Home Sweet Home

3101 Avondale Street.

It was unfamiliar and not very home-y to Sabrine as she stepped through the door and to her room upstairs. Her old bedroom had three rooms, not five. Sabrine and her sister would compete in the mornings to see who would get to the bathroom first, and now they each had their own.

Still, she had to admit that her father, with his new office and his big promotion, seemed happier. Her newly-relocated mother seemed less stressed. It was only their fifth day in town, but it was as good a precedent as any.

Not that any amount of happiness could ever change the fact that the walls were the wrong colors, the window was on the wrong wall, or that her closet was too big, only making it seem emptier than she was used to.

She laid on her bed and ran her day through her head. An overall success.

She hadn't been bullied, she didn't get into too much trouble, there had been no pop quizzes...

And that boy. Sabrine almost sighed when she thought of his long black hair, the way his fingers had moved over the canvas, and- now Sabrine really did sigh- the way he had sat so close to her.

Sabrine couldn't wait to tell-

She bolted upwards.

Oh no, she thought, as she raced out the door, not bothering to lock it, and climbed into her car. How could she forget to pick up Margot? They went to the same school! They shared a building!

Sure enough, her phone started ringing as soon as she pulled out of the driveway. Sabrine answered it.

"H-hello?"

"Where are you?" asked the shaky fourteen-year-old.

Sabrine hesitated before answering. "Um, home? But I'm on my way to pick you up right now."

"What? Sabrine how could-"

Sabrine hung up the phone and decided to focus on not crashing instead. Her phone buzzed and, for just a second, Sabrine considered checking who it was.

She decided to wait it out instead, When she reached the parking lot outside the freshmen's side of the building, she checked her phone and wished she had done so earlier.

Don't worry, went home with a friend, the text from Margot said.

Sabrine slumped in her seat with a sigh. Even Margot had made friends already. But then, all the freshmen were new to this school, so it's not like the cliques had been established yet. The seniors had already had four years to bond, of course they weren't going to let Sabrine in right away.

The exit closest to her was already backed up, full of students trying to get out onto the road, so Sabrine circled around the school, headed for the way she came in.

As she approached the side lot, however, a figure in the distance caught her eye. For a second, her hands tightened around the steering wheel when she realized who it was; the painter was kicking a soccer ball around, punching the air after he made a goal.

Now, before Sabrine could turn her attention back to the road, her head was flung forward. She peeled her forehead off the steering wheel and looked up with a groan, first processing the shock, then the pain, then the situation, then the dread. She had driven into a black sedan. An expensive-looking black sedan that could only belong to the only other person around: the painter.

Her head began to throb, knowing she would have to confront him soon.

Sure enough, he had paused his game of solo soccer to come take a look at his dented car, to Sabrine's chagrin. She jumped out of her own car, already thinking of a hundred different favors she could offer so that he wouldn't hate her forever.

"My parents can pay!" was the first thing out of her mouth. She grimaced once the words left her mouth; did that sound like a brag? "Not that  my parents are rich-" She bit her tongue; that was a lie. "Well, they are but- but-"

She took a second to compose herself under his questioning gaze, biting her tongue to focus. "Well, I'll I'm saying is that I'm sorry. I'm willing to pay whatever the repairs cost."

The painter ran a hand over the dent slowly. Sabrine wondered if now was the right time to ask for his name.

"Don't worry about it," he said finally, Sabrine relieved that his voice wasn't angry or cold.

"No, really, I should-"

"Sabrine," he started, looking up at her with a small grin. "Honest. This isn't even my car; it's my dad's. I doubt he'll even care about one dent in one car."

That was enough to shut her up. He had used her name, hadn't he? She didn't even know if he remembered it

"Okay," she finally answered, her voice breaking.

As she drove home, she wondered how she had managed to breathe through the interaction with the smiling boy.

*

Margot wasn't angry like how Sabrine had expected her to be. Instead, Margot pulled her sister into her room, where they both sat around on Margot's half-made bed as she told her older sister about her day.

"The uniforms are a lot comfier than I thought they would be. Oh! I fell over during lunch but everyone was really nice, thank God. Back at Hemington Middle, everyone would have laughed or something."

Sabrine didn't want to hear her sister talk bad about her previous school, or her previous town. Sure, this was the first school either of them had ever been to where the lunch food was edible. And nevermind the bathrooms smelling good instead of tolerable. Of course Daley was miles ahead of Hemington in all ways but one: Daley didn't have Edna  or Jade or Jessie, Sabrine's closest friends. She clutched her phone to her chest.

She would contact them... eventually. Right now, she needed to focus on settling in or else the sudden change would be too much to bear.

"Want to hear about my day?"

Margot eagerly agreed.

"Well, we have free period where-"

"Oh, yeah! So during our free period-" She told Sabrine about a game some girls played so they could get to know her better.

"That's great..." Sabrine trailed, trying her hardest to feel happy for her sister. She racked her brain to find an advantage she would have over Margot.

"Well, there's this i***t in my class, Dylan. Dylan Marandola."

Margot furrowed her brows and threw herself backwards onto the bed. "Yeah, that- that sounds familiar. Is he, like, an athlete?"

"No, he's some CEO's son. But he's, he's so-" Sabrine took a second to find the right word. "Annoying. Intolerable. Entitled. I really wish he would transfer classes."

"Yeah, well rich people are just like that. If you expect too much from them-"

"Not all rich people," Sabrine interrupted, suddenly defensive. Not on her behalf, however .In fact, Sabrine hadn't registered that she was, a rich person now. Instead, she was defensive on behalf of the painter, who had added a stranger to a painting and had smiled when she crashed his car. "Some of them are understanding and nice and-"

"You made a friend!"

"Well," Sabrine felt her cheeks redden. "Not really. I met a boy." Sabrine detailed to her sister every encounter she had had, and, by the time she was done, Margot was grinning from ear to ear.

"Sabrine, that's, like, love at first sight!"

Sabrine only laughed. Margot still wasn't over her love-conquers-all phase, and Sabrine didn't think it was her job to snap her out of it.

That evening, when her parents arrived, the giddiness from the first day of school had worn off. Her mother, walked in first, setting her purse on the arm chair by the entrance and taking a seat there instead of heading for the kitchen like she normally would have. Mr. Rodgers stormed in after his wife, stalking directly for the stairs.. Sabrine didn't miss the way her mother jumped slightly when he slammed the bedroom door.

Margot was already picking at her nails. "Sabrine made food."

The girls sat in silence, the room completely silent except for the scrape of forks against the new china and Margot's occasional attempts at making conversation.

Eventually Mrs. Rodgers pushed her chair back and mumbled something about seeing the girls in the morning before grabbing her things and leaving the house.

Sabrine and Margot shared a look before finishing their meal in silence.

*

Mr. Rodgers didn't speak during breakfast, and kissed only his daughters goodbye before leaving for work. Mrs. Rodgers's eyes filled with tears but she clenched her jaw and straightened her back. Of course she wouldn't let her daughters see her cry. No, Mrs. Rodgers was going to pretend to be perfect no matter what.

Sabrine swallowed her sudden distaste. Yes, Mrs. Rodgers was something of a perfectionist, but she clearly needed support.

"You okay, mom?"

That seemed to snap her mother out of her trance. "Hm? Yes, I'm fine. I should get going, though. Have fun at- oh shoot, I didn't even ask: how was school yesterday?"

The girls both knew better than to answer in detail or, in Sabrine's case, earnestly.

"Good," they said, almost in unison.

"Good," their mother echoed as she readied to leave.

Sabrine drove herself and Margot to school, her mind going a hundred miles a minute. So what if they had gotten into a fight? It wasn't the first time it had happened. And her mother sleeping elsewhere? Well, Sabrine couldn't remember last time it happened, if ever, but that didn't mean anything deeper was going on. Everyone fought. Sabrine knew that. She knew no romance was perfect, like they all were in the movies. Even Margot had to know that. Still, no matter how much she tried to reassure herself, there was a sinking feeling in Sabrine's stomach that something was different this time. Maybe the stress was from the move. Maybe they would go back home and-

"Sabrine watch out!" Margot shrieked, and not a moment too soon; Sabrine swerved the car and narrowly missed the person that had been walking across the parking lot.

Still, her would-be victim jumped aside, landing on his side before rolling onto his back. Sabrine pulled over and ran out to help him up. She was already in the parking lot, so when the warning bell went off, Margot wasted no time in running for the building, yelling about how she wanted to be no part of this,  and ultimately leaving Sabrine to approach the boy alone.

As she neared him, her stomach filled with dread upon seeing it was someone she knew.

Know is an overstatement, she thought, as she extended a hand for Dylan to take.

"So," he started, a grin already forming on his mouth, "either you need to work on your aim or be more careful."

Her cheeks flared up. This was the second time in as many days that she almost caused serious damage because she couldn't focus on the road ahead of her.

"Sorry. I was just distracted,"

"I figured," Dylan answered, picking at an imaginary stain on his shirt that was, once again, out of uniform. "Anyway, are you going to tell me what was more important than, say, my life?"

Sabrine couldn't help it; she snorted. Before she could brush off his question, however, a group of boys ran by, telling Dylan that he better get to class soon before Mr. Chaser skinned him alive.

"That's my cue," Dylan grumbled. "You should take care of that," he said, motioning to her still-running car.

Sabrine nodded, grateful for the change in subject. She turned to park her car. When she had buckled in and parked, however, she realized Dylan was still standing where he had been previously.

"What happened to your cue?" she wondered sarcastically as she walked past him,

"Well, I was going to leave but then I realized you never answered my question, What's more important than me?"

A lot of things.

"It's nothing, just a family problem."

Dylan began walking after her in silence, like he was expecting her to elaborate. All it took was one glance to his face to confirm that he was still waiting for an answer.

"What I meant was, it's private."

"Oh, and you think what? We aren't close enough for you to share that yet?"

"No!" Sabrine laughed. "Of course I'm not going to give you personal information. Dylan, I've known you one day!"

Dylan clucked his tongue in disappointment.

After claiming he was confident enough to share whatever Sabrine was wondering about, he talked about his favorite color and food and vacation spot. Sabrine tuned him out, her mind flitting back to the fight between her parents, which she had heard enough of as she had tried sleeping in during the early hours of the morning.

Dylan was swarmed before they reached the classroom, so Sabrine walked in alone, putting her head down and choosing to relax her mind for just a second.

Sabrine's eyes drifted toward Dylan's empty desk and she couldn't help but laugh a little.

Someone should've taught him boundaries.

***