Lassoing Love

From Chicago to Chunky

Chapter 1

Population of Chicago as of the 2011 census: 2,707,120 people. Chicago also has over 6,000 full-service restaurants, 472 elementary schools, and 201 hospitals. Chicago also just so happens to be the great city that I was born and raised in single-handed by my dad, Luke.

Here's the population of the small, southern town that I'm flying to now: a whopping 322 people. Yes, you read correctly, 322! What is the name of this minuscule town, you might ask? Chunky. No, that wasn't just some random word that I decided to say. That, my friends, is the name of my future hometown. Chunky. What really sucks is that every time I attempt to imagine life in Chunky, all I can think of is peanut butter...

What does Chunky have to offer? Its townspeople would probably tell you, "Friendly people and the best home cooked food you could ever eat!" But here's what my research has shown me: Chunky Mississippi contains two churches, two restaurants, one post office, a town hall, one pool, and a volunteer fire department. Not exactly what my standards are used to.

So you can understand why I'm not exactly thrilled to be spending the next six months there. After that, I'll be eighteen and therefore old enough to live on my own. Trust me, after the candles are blown out, I'm out of there.

My dad is such an idiot. He's a bit of an unstable man. Unstable meaning that he sobers up during the day and then gets fall down drunk every night. I'm not even sure if he has a job. He's in jail right now though, probably having alcoholic withdrawals.

But I'm not yet ready to explain the exact reason/s he is currently behind bars.

I am, however, ready to jump off this plane. It's summer and the air conditioning on this plane seems to be broken. It doesn't help that I am seated by a man who is at least twice the weight he should be. To make matters worse, my headphones broke and so I have nothing to do but sit, sweat, and think about what is going to happen when I unboard this plane.

In the courtroom I was given two options: live in one of the many foster homes in Chicago, or stay with my not so familiar Aunt in Mississippi. She is (was?) my mom's sister. Apparently my mother had grown up in Mississippi and then after she met my dad, she moved to Chicago with him. Luke doesn't really like to talk about her, like, at all. I've only gotten that much out of him when he was swinging around a fire exit with a beer sloshing around in his hand.

Anyways, I chose Mississippi because when I think of foster homes, I think of a negligent couple housing kids for money. On the other hand, Chunky makes me think of vomit and bad milk. I'm cringing just thinking about it.

I'm sure other people would be thrilled to spend a few months with an over-friendly southern family and ride horses and work the plow all day, but that's just not my scene. I've lived in Chicago for seventeen years, walking the streets at night and getting into my share of trouble. I know I'm going to stick out like a sore thumb.

Honestly, I'm not exactly sure what to expect. Will I be living in the stereotypical farm state with cows in my backyard? Or will Chunky beat the stereotype that is rolling around in my head?

As for the Chunky townspeople (Chunkyvillians, Chunkspeople?) I'm willing to bet that most of them are blond and tan; pretty much the exact opposite of me. I'm pale with dull blue eyes and hair that can't decide if it's black or really dark brown. I think I might have a streak of red in it somewhere, although I have no idea what it's from. Luke even yelled at me once because he thought I had dyed it. Nope, that's just my stupid hair being bipolar again. He reasons that the sun must do some weird thing to it. I'm not so sure.

Anyways this is just one of the many reasons of why I know I will stick out in Chunky. I also might be the only one who laughs every time they say the name of the town. But come on, who names a town Chunky? Perhaps there is some perfectly logical reason behind the naming, but for now its logic is lost on me.