TattleTale!

[1]: New House, New Sandwiches?

~Lily~

"Lily."

My brother distracted me from my thoughts. When I turned to him, he was poking his head through the doorway.

"Come on." He beckoned, his green eyes looking impatient and bored.

"Mom's in the car. We're already behind the movers." He tried, not acknowledging the fact that I was trying to ignore him.

"Lilia!" He exclaimed impatiently, slamming his hand on the doorframe.

"Okay, jeez, I'm coming!" I said, heaving my bookbag over my shoulder warily. I took one last look at the turquoise room that I spent my entire childhood and part of my adolescence up until that very moment.

I heaved a sigh, and pushed past him and out of our now empty house.

I raced past Nikolai and planted my right hand firmly on the door, palm down.

"Lily, sit in the back."

"Nope, I called it fair and square. Suck it up."

"But I'm older."

"So what? You never play fair!"

Mom rolled down the window impatiently.

"Nikolai, let your sister sit in the front! Now both of you, get in! Maintenant!"

Nikolai and I shut up instantly and got in the car. We both knew that mom meant business when she exclaimed in French.

The next twenty minutes or so were spent in shared silence, which I interpreted as time to let mom cool down.

I didn't want to move, and I didn't want to start new. Leaving the place you grew up in is like someone taking a really good sandwich away from you, but you haven't even finished eating it.

And then you're really sad about your old sandwich which was so good and took you so long to make, while they're making you a new sandwich with all the ingredients you HATE.

Okay. Too many sandwich analogies.

But my point is, almost 17 years of my life were spent in that house with my brother and my mom, and now we were starting new because of some stupid relocation of my mom's job.

Dandy.

The ride was only about an hour and a half, and the area was slightly recognizable; we've been down here for a short vacation a few months back.

Brooklyn was not the same.

It was warmer. More popular, more people walking the streets, houses lining each block. Not as many cars as I expected, but the ones that were visible were parked in tiny, almost insufficient driveways.

Coney Island was within walking distance. Late summer made Brooklyn come alive.

School started in two days, meaning that Nikolai and I had two days to get used to the sudden change of environment.

Our new house was on the left handed side of the street, around the corner from a Russian convenience store, and a deli.

It was a small house; brick red with white shutters.

Nikolai, mom and I had to carry our bags up the stairs that led to the porch.

The house was bigger than it seemed on the inside.

The movers were already in, and the couch was sitting in the center of the room, facing the already set up entertainment center with the TV plugged in and propped up.

The kitchen was pretty much already done, all that was added was a kitchen table.

There was a window above the table against the wall. Daylight shone through and onto the table. Before the counter and right near the table was a sliding glass door that led to a small backyard.

"Nice," Nikolai murmured, nodding his head up and down in approval.

I traveled upstairs, and came upon four rooms, meaning one would be a guest room. The biggest room was obviously mom's, so the three rooms were up for grabs. I peered in each one. The first one had bright pink walls, and purple carpet. I nearly gagged.

The second room was bright blue, but the closet didn't have a door. No thank you.

The third room was painted deep orange, with light brown hardwood floors.

There were light yellow curtains, and the closet had doors, which was a plus.

I plopped my bag down in the middle of the room.

Nikolai came up shortly after, and chose the blue room.

"Who the hell lived here?" Nikolai asked, looking in disgust at the pink room with the horrid purple carpet and zebra print curtains.

I shrugged, at least I liked my room. Later on, the movers helped us move our beds and things into our rooms. By the time we were finished, mom was exhausted so we went around the corner and ordered sandwiches from the deli.

The next day, we had the whole day to explore the small neighborhood in Sheepshead Bay. The school Nikolai and I were going to start tomorrow was in the city, and we had to take the earliest bus in the morning to catch the earliest train in the morning to get there on time.

It was a school of the arts, and you'd have to be pretty talented to get in. Somehow, Nikolai didn't even have to apply, so maybe mom paid for us to get in.

My classes were different from anything I've ever had. Instead of Math, English, History, and Biology, I had courses like Pottery, Chorus, Art Fundamentals, and Dance.

I mean, I was estatic about dance; I've been dancing my entire life. But the other things made me kind of intimidated..

* M o n d a y M o r n i n g *

"Nervous?" Nikolai asked me, shooting a slightly condescending smile towards me.

I simply shrugged, shaking my head.

"I guess. What classes do you have?"

"Uh... Music Theory, Honors Calculus, AP Euro, Jazz Band..." he read off to me.

I nodded, shrugging again. I was thinking about our schedules. How did we get exactly what would've peaked our interests? Well, it was probably mom, who am I kidding? She knew about dance. And it was pretty easy for Nikolai too. It was as if his whole life revolved around his bass.

The train lurched to a stop, and Nikolai and I got off, heaving our bookbags over our shoulders.

We headed through the city, but thankfully, the school was right there in front of us.

Hoo, boy.