A Breath of Air

“Wake up sleepy head! First day at your new school!” I heard that annoyingly familiar voice of my stepmother. Don’t get me wrong, I love her, but her voice at six in the morning is one thing I hate about her. She’s perky and loud and such a morning person. Whereas I am not. “Ugh! Five more minutes.” I whined and turned over in my bed, facing away from my bedroom door. I threw the blanket over my head. Then I remembered where I was. I still hadn’t gotten used to my new room. Well, it was actually a small attic room. You know, the ones at the top of the house where the roof slants into it so you don’t actually have a full room or even a flat ceiling. Suddenly, the window in my room was uncovered and the sun brightened it, making me squint in my trying sleep. “Wakey wakey!” She said again, this time right next to my ear. I shied away and sat up to glare at her. She was already gone from my room, the door left wide open to let in the muffled commotion downstairs. I stared at the circular window, the makeshift curtain made from a dark sheet draped to the floor and only being held up by one thumbtack. I cringed at the morning light wishing that today wasn’t Monday. Wishing that we’d never moved from my hometown. Wishing that my father hadn’t gone to prison and left my stepmother to fend for herself with five kids. I sat up and started thinking about my father. Four months ago, he was arrested in front of all of us and taken to jail. My stepmother tried to keep the house running, but without my father’s job to bring us money and upkeeping the big house we lived in, it all became too much for my stepmother. We were forced to move three states over to Washington where my oldest brother lives with his fiancé. They have two kids of their own and a big enough house for my whole family to fit in if we all bunked with each other. Luckily, I was the odd one out because I got the smallest room of the entire house: the attic. My stepmother decided to room with my baby brother in one of my oldest brother’s kid’s rooms while my two younger sisters roomed with each other in the guest room and my brother—who’s just one year younger than me—decided to room in the mezzanine-turned-loft (for this occasion specifically) above the garage. My oldest brother had his room with his to-be wife and their daughters now roomed with each other. Now, in this crowded four-bedroom, three-and-a-half-bathroom house, I was trying to pull myself awake. We’d only been in this house a week and a half and for the past ten days I’ve been sleeping in until noon. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to be up in the morning, but because my dreams were all about my home back in New Salem, North Dakota. I missed it there. My friends are there, my school is there, and the house I grew up in is there. Granted, I was born, here, in Washington, but once I was seven months old, we moved to North Dakota to be with my father’s mother. Once she died, we just lived there. Well, until my father was arrested. Then, my oldest brother and his fiancé offered to take us in because he knew my stepmother was struggling. We still haven’t even mentioned our father’s arresting as a family yet. It’s as if we’re pretending it never happened and going on without him. I’m not sure why he was arrested, but I do know that he wasn’t around a lot and that we weren’t close. I know that the house we lived in was mostly paid from his job, whatever he did. Logically, his job most likely had to do with drugs, with how much money he was bringing in. But that really didn’t matter to me. I just wanted to go home. My stepmother knew that too, but she had to do what was best for the whole family. Right now, she’s applied for three jobs here, but it’s not a big town. Who knows if she’ll even get the jobs. If she doesn’t, where else will she apply? My brother offered to help us out as much as he can, but I know my stepmother will want to move out as soon as possible to get us back on our feet. I’m hoping that might mean moving back to North Dakota. One thing that I definitely am not looking forward to is my sixteenth birthday in a week and a half. It would be my first birthday outside of North Dakota. That means I’m a sophomore in high school. That brings me back to today being my first day of my new school. Even though the school had already been in session for three months. “Kristine! Get up!” I heard my stepmother yell from downstairs. She was two stories away, yet her yell sounded clear as day. I groaned but pushed myself out of bed. Outside of my room, I could smell bacon faintly and heard the commotion downstairs of my loud siblings, my two sisters, my younger brother, and my baby brother. I was the only person in my house that wasn’t a morning person. “You’re going to miss the bus, Kristine!” She yelled again, causing my feet to want to drag slower. I made them move down the stairs, passing another small room like mine right across from my door. It was a storage area that was now crammed with everything previously in my new room. On the second floor, I made my way for the bathroom at the far end of the hallway, passing two rooms, one on my right and one on my left. I stripped down once in the bathroom, making sure to lock the door as I have siblings who don’t knock before entering, and jumped into the shower. I felt clean and awake once I was done. I wiped the mirror of fog and condensation and saw myself in it. There was someone looking back at me, but it didn’t feel like me. Despite having slept most of the week, I still had bags under my light maple eyes. My whole face looked tired, and I seemed to have a resting stoneface. I looked as if I didn’t care. I wanted to care about living here and going to a new school and moving for the sake of my stepmother, but I couldn’t bring myself to no matter how hard I tried. I still wished, in the back of my mind, that I wasn’t here, but I tried on a smile, nevertheless. The mirror reflected a girl trying too hard, now. A fake smile and the creases at the corners of her eyes too prominent. I let the smile drop and the low cheekbones, frown, and creased chin returned. I pulled back my wet, dark hair and started to brush it with a comb to get most of the knots and water out. After blow drying it and brushing it out, I put it in a messy bun atop my head and unlocked the door. After getting dressed, I gathered myself to head downstairs. One last sigh of regret in my room, and I was on my way down the wooden stairs, the start of my new life. The bus stop was only filled with three other kids. They looked just as tired and awkward as I felt. I’m glad I wouldn’t stand out too much. Outside, the air was cool as it was October, the season of Halloween, falling leaves, and rain—lots and lots of rain. I boarded the bus happily as the heater was running. The sweatshirt my father gave to me three years ago was oversized then and is oversized now. It made look cute on me, but it definitely doesn’t do much for the Washington cold. I was thankful to also have a seat to myself and with the limited kids on board already, it made for a quiet ride. I didn’t know exactly where the school was from my new house. All I know is that Stag Meadows isn’t a huge town and it’s mostly surrounded by pine trees galore. Everywhere you looked was either clouds or trees. Even each of the houses had at least one tree on the front yard and several separating each house. I will admit it’s a beautiful town, but my old town was much better. There was an abundance of, not trees, but coffee shops, roller rinks, and concert venues. It was a friendship’s paradise. I miss my old friends. It’s only been a week, yet I still wished I were there with them. Right now, we’d be driving to school together since Layla was a year older than Tia and I. We’d go pick up Leo and Brian, then drive to school, singing songs and watching Brian sulk because Leo always called shotgun before Brian could remember to. Those were the best times. The school wasn’t as big as I imagined it to be, but then again, the town was rather small. Getting off the bus, I noticed several other buses parked in front and parking behind us. There were already tons of students chatting, hanging out, laughing, and congregating near the front of the building and around the benches on the front lawn—which was green and scattered with pine needles. Stepping off the bus, I immediately felt like I didn’t belong. Most of the kids here had people to hang out with, cliques, friends. I felt like an outcast, alone. My eyes shifted to the forest surrounding the school. There was movement near the edge of the trees where they thinned out and revealed bark and dirt and shed pine needles. I stared for a long moment before noticing there were guys coming out of the woods. I would have said ‘people’, but they really were a group of guys. Seven guys came from the woods, shirtless, muscular, and laughing about something, shoving each other around, playfully, like brothers. It was…odd. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I was confused and curious as all hell. They all threw on shirts of different varieties, seeming to have done this several times and have the routine down. “Curious, right?” Someone said and I turned to my left to see a shorter girl, jet black hair straightened and cut at a line just above her shoulders. She has a piercing on the right side of her nose, a little gem graced the piercing. Her light green eyes seemed interested but almost lost in thought, as well. She seemed like a peculiar person. I was intrigued. “Yeah. Who are they?” I asked, looking back to the boys coming across the student parking lot, fully clothed, wearing crooked smiles and warm eyes. They walked with purpose and triumph, as if the school were theirs. “Well, the far right one, that’s Jake Malrope. He’s a junior.” She said, pointing out the tallest one of all of them with blondish hair and the only one not smiling as big as the rest. To say he was taller than the rest was shocking for me. They were all very tall, at least a foot taller than my 5’4 self, so he had to be three of four inches taller than all of them. “The one walking next to him, that’s Joshua Jarack. He’s a sophomore.” She pointed to the seemingly smallest one of them all. He was a smiley boy with crooked teeth and a boyish face. His hair was a muddy brown and it seemed unwashed. “Those two are Merick Jordan and Ronny March. Both juniors and both very dumb. It’s like they’ve never read a book in their lives. I had them in my history class two years ago. Pretty sure they’re still in that history class.” The girl scoffed at the two on the far-right side of the group. They were laughing about something one of the other’s had said. They both had red hair and seemed similar in some ways such as their oval faces, dimples, and freckles littering their faces, but other than that, they were different. Merick had a straighter jaw and stood taller while Ronny had broader shoulders and bigger ears and eyebrows. “The two in the back are Henry Anderson and Carter Peters. They’re freshman. I don’t know much about them.” She pointed to the two in the back of the group. I would’ve never guessed they were freshman from how tall they were. Henry seemed the most muscular of all the boys, looking nothing like a teenager, especially with how toned and slim his face was. Carter seemed the skinniest of them all, looking almost like he didn’t belong, but you could tell the boy had muscles. They both sported light brown, fluffy hair. The one in the front, that’s their ‘leader’.” She used air quotes, exaggerated, “His name’s Liam Woods, and he calls him and his friends the ‘Woods gang’.” More exaggeration. I just listened intently. “They’re really just dumb and they’re i***t boys. You should just stay away from them. I’ve known Liam since we were kids and he’s always been the ‘leader’ type. He’s also oblivious to anyone he doesn’t know or care about. Including me. He can never remember my name. He always turns around to me in science—I sit behind him—and asks for answers, or a pencil, or a piece of paper, but never remembers my name.” She explains, scoffing at him with disrespect. “Maybe he doesn’t know your name.” I suggested kindly. “I’ve told him six times this month.” She gave me a bored expression, as if she’s used to this. I stared over at the boys again as they walked through the lawn towards some girls and stopped in front of them, chatting. Liam was lean, broad shouldered with a small torso. One thing I did notice, even all the way across the lawn, was his piercing dark green eyes. They were striking, drawing.