On the flight I didn't talk to either one of my parents. My mom kept giving me nervous glances that I tried to ignore, and my dad kept ordering alcoholic drinks. Shocker. My dad had always been an alcoholic. No one, not even my mom, could say different.
"Passengers," the annoying flight attendant said, bringing me out of my sleep, "please buckle your seat belts. We are preparing for landing."
Since I was in the window seat, I looked out over where ever we were landing. I noticed millions of houses, a few large buildings (hopefully they were malls), and a large amusement park. I didn't want to seem too excited, but I was.
My mom whispered to my dad, "Oh, how romantic!" And I choked on my own spit.
It took us about two hours to exit the plane, find our luggage, and locate my dad's car. He had a black Range Rover that fascinated my mother.
Once we were in the car, my dad turned around at me and smiled. "What do you think? Good enough for you to drive to school?" he asked. My mom turned around and gave me a look, but I ignored her.
"Yeah," I replied anyway, rolling my eyes.
He turned around in his seat and blew out a sigh.
After driving about 40 minutes, we turned onto a road that had "Oglebay Estates" written in cursive on a huge slab of stone. My dad said proudly, "This is our neighborhood, the best in town."
"It looks nice," I said, not turning towards him.
Nice was an understatement.
The houses were huge, like the ones you see in "Better Homes" magazines. Every house had at least three nice cars parked outside. If I came here looking like my old self, I would've never fit in.
Just to make my assumption true, a pretty girl with brown, curled hair flew by us in a convertible BMW.
My dad turned onto Rosebush Blvd, and into the driveway of the first house on the left.
I opened my door, stepped onto a smooth driveway, and gasped.
"Grab your bags," he father said, "and try to find your room. I'm sure Lola will help you, it's right next to her room upstairs."
I walked to the rear of the car and grabbed my three black suitcases, and then walked up the sidewalk to the front door. I nudged it open and walked into a massive living room.
The couches were all black leather and the plush carpet was white. A huge flat screen hung on the wall across from the door. A glass coffee table was in the middle of the room. Paintings and picture of some girl and my dad were strung throughout the room. Basketball pictures, pageant pictures and trophies, and casual photos everywhere you looked.
There were double doors that were shut on the opposite wall, and a single door to the right. I chose the double doors, which led to a round room with doors everywhere you looked. In the middle of the room was a metal spiral staircase.
"Whoa," I whispered as I dragged my bags up the stairs.
A girls voice came from up the stairs, "Daddy? Are you home?"
I stopped. I had no idea what to say. "Uh, dad's here, but he's outside I think."
She peaked her head down the stairs. "Oh. You must be Krisslyn. I'm Lola, and I guess I'm your sister."
"Hi," I said, "Could you show me where my room is?"
She stared at me. "C'mon."
I followed her up the stairs and turned to the right.
She was wearing 'CCHS' gray sweatpants and a maroon 'CCHS Knights Basketball' t-shirt. Her long brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail.
"This is Dad's room," Lola said, pointing to the first door, and then she said, pointing to the next door, "this is my room. The next one down is yours. I'm going back to my room. I'll see you in the morning, I guess." She turned around and walked into her room, slamming the door behind her.
I shook my head and rolled my suitcases to my door and pushed it open. I slowly walked into my room and looked around. To the right of the door was a queen size aqua blue bed with a lot of pillows. Next to the bed was a black dresser with a large mirror, and next to that was a massive walk in closet. Across the room was a TV hanging on the wall and a door with curtains over the windows.
I smiled and opened the door to find a porch with a couch and a hot tub. I walked over to the railing and looked over the balcony at my view. A few more rows of enormous houses, and then the gates into the neighborhood. After that was what looked liked a carnival.
Something moving down the alley caught my eye. I turned to see a very cute boy. He was wearing khaki shorts, a striped polo, gray vans, and reflective aviators. He had brownish red flippy hair and a cute smile with perfect teeth. He was on the phone and laughed, then pulled up his shirt to wipe his forehead to remove sweat. I saw that he was very, very ripped. I couldn't stop staring.
He looked up at me, smiled and waved. I waved back, then ran back into my room. I slammed my door shut. I felt butterflies in my stomach. Boys never made me nervous. However, this time I knew it would be different.