Chapter 1 - Tatie's pov

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"Tatum Rose!" my mother yells, awakening me from my trance. I stand next to the U-haul truck, holding a box labeled "photos", staring off into the distance. I had been caught off guard when I noticed a picture on top of the stacks. It was me when I was a little kid, sitting on my dad's lap. I look at the date on the back of the photograph- yup, I was only four at the time it was taken. Now, twelve years later, I don't even speak to my dad, let alone sit on his lap. He has been "taken away" now because the police found him guilty of abuse. It's scary for me to think that back then, he seemed so loving, so...innocent. And now he's like a criminal.
"Sorry Mom, I was just...I was...uh..."
She walked over to me, taking notice to the photo on top of the stack. She sighed.
"I know it's scary dear, you know, with your father being taken away now. But this is for the best. Where your father is going, they will teach him how to have better control of his anger and try to stop his abusive ways."
"Do you think we'll ever see him again?" I ask.
"Honestly Tatie...why would you even want to? You should be grateful that we've finally gotten away from him and now we can have our own life, just you me and Beck. This is like a whole new start for you two..new school, new friends. You'll like it more than your old life in New Jersey. I promise."
What my mom doesn't understand is, I've had far too many "new starts". I've already moved six times in my life, and all it does is cause stress. Having to find new friends, adjust to a new school, and learn my way around a whole new city. And for a shy, awkward girl like me, making new friends is absolutely the worst part.

After taking in a few more boxes, I head upstairs to start setting up my bedroom. Our house is a decent size, with three bedrooms and two bathrooms, a kitchen, living room, a spare room, and an unfinished basement. My room is pretty small, but the walls are a nice shade of light blue and there's a nice big window too. The closet is decent, much bigger than the one in my room in our old New Jersey apartment. My brother Beck helps me load in my bed and dresser, and I carry in my beanbag chair and other decor. I'm finishing up by putting my new purple curtains up when I notice a boy outside the window sitting on the edge of the sidewalk. He looks very tall, maybe over six feet. He has blond hair that's styled kind of weirdly with gel. He's chilling with two other guys. Both of them are black, one of them pretty tall and the other one considerably smaller than the other two.
"Tatie!" my mother calls excitedly. "Look, there are some kids your age outside. You should go talk to them."
I look at myself in the mirror to make sure I look alright. I'm wearing light wash jeans and a navy blue crewneck sweatshirt with my black low top converse. My hair looks boring, as usual. It's light brown and just kind of sits there. My green eyes surely stand out though. I put on a little black eyeliner and subtle lipstick along with the mascara I'm already wearing. Because let's face it, the blond guy was kind of cute- and I really want to make a good first impression.
Reluctantly, I walk out my front door, trying to look nonchalant. The boys notice me right away. The tall black one instantly starts making cat noises and going "daaaamn, she got an ass!" I just roll my eyes and pretend like Im getting more boxes from the moving truck. Then the blond one started talking...
"Aw come on Dubo, don't be a jerk off." he began.
"What?" the tall black dude, who apparently answered to Dubo, continued. "She's a hot little babe, what was I supposed to say?"
"Oh I don't know, maybe you could've started with like, hello, or hey, or what's up I'm Dubo?" I jokingly suggest.
"Fine," he offers, laughing a little. "I'm Dubo, and this shawty over here is Slim," he says, motioning towards the smaller guy. Slim smiles. "Aye girl."
"And this is Kellz."
Without bothering to stand up, he puts out his hand for me to shake. "Call me Colson," he says confidently.

"I'm Tatie," I say, feeling kind of awkward. My name just makes me sound so...white. I used to live near Newark, so yeah, I've obviously met plenty of black people before. But I'm still your typical white girl. Plus I've never really been friends with any guys that were black. A few girls, but never guys. I always felt like black guys are all creeps or rapists, which is often true, but not always. Although due to my father's abusive ways, I've become kind of paranoid around pretty much all guys.
"TATIE?" Dubo questions. "That's kind of a weird name.
"And Dubo isn't?" I joke. With that, I walked away, not wanting to spoil what was an okay start to making my first few friends here in Cleveland.
"See ya Tatie," Colson yells after me. I turn around, and he's smiling slyly. He nods his head at me. I just turn around and keep walking, a huge grin plastered on my face.

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