The Start of Something New (Editing)

introduction

    It was beautiful the way they danced. Guided together by interest, or love if they were a couple. They smiled at each other, their eyes glittering in the dim lighting like twinkling stars in the night sky. I envied their connection. Because I came back home to Albuquerque not knowing anyone. I spent so long away from here that I don't remember buildings that I used to see in the car when we passed. All I do know is that my father died in a motorcycle accident before I started kindergarten. His death was so sudden that Mom cried for weeks with no resolve. I don't think she recovered even to this day. But if she truly wanted to get away from here, I don't know why she moved us back. It would bring a plethora of dismal memories that she never wanted to relive. San Diego was a place for her to start over.

     Mom sent me to this party to at least have some friends. Most of them, she said, go to the high school I'll go to. Yet, like any other teenage outsider, I really didn't want to go to this. They make me feel so alone, so scared. I only came to make Mom happy. That way she knew I tried to be as outgoing, as social as I could possibly be, which isn't exactly what I am.

     I don't think I wore the correct clothes either. I dressed in a plain white, knee-length party dress and flats with no make-up. My attire, compared to everyone else's, was generic. I stood out majorly and I really didn't want to. I hate the spotlight if I didn't have to be in it. That's not me. Although, not a large quantity of people stared at me the way I thought they would. Of course, they whispered and pointed at me, too. Why wouldn't they? I looked like an outcast the moment I stepped inside this huge house from the beginning. Everyone else wore fancy, wedding-like attire and full faces of bright eye shadow and bold lips. In my opinion, I think the girls look like clowns.

     Meanwhile, as this is going on, boredom washes over me in waves. I was in an obvious rich person's home (with the extravagant architecture, paintings, vases, furniture, etc) watching teenagers dance and I'm sitting in a chair like a stuffed animal whose little girl stopped playing with them for years. This is not how I wanted to close off the year. Alone. I'd rather be at home with Mom and my brother Adrien making our usual New Year's snacks, or drawing on each other's faces if one fell asleep first, or throwing glitter until it covers every square inch of the house in silver and gold sparkles. Not here where I'm friendless and nervous.

     The hallway is silent when I walk out of the ballroom. It was the perfect place to wait until Mom can come and get me. I don't have to be stuck in a crushed space where karaoke is making your eardrums bleed, where kids are rude, where kids are kissing and God knows what else in corners. I have it to myself. Me and the blonde family in the paintings in cool, marble solitude.

     "I can tell you don't like parties." said a blonde boy down the corridor. "How come?"

     He came to a halt in front of me, smiling sweetly and gently, as though I'm a deer he doesn't want to frighten. And he smells like perfection, like any typical hot boy would. Of course, I swooned. Who wouldn't be at the sight of him? Blue eyes the shade of infinity. His sudden approach scared me. How long had he been standing there? He came out of nowhere. I feel like I'm in a horror movie. He could kill me right here, right now and no one would know. They can't hear when the music is making them deaf. Great. I'll be murdered at the hands of Prince Charming.

     "I just moved back to Albuquerque. I don't really know anyone here." I replied in an awkward voice. Somehow, he made me feel safe; the kind of feeling I longed for years. I wasn't trapped in a shell. I could be myself. But here I am spilling everything about myself. Why does he need to know anything about me? It's not his place.

     The boy looked at me as though I was lying to him. He raised an eyebrow, his smile deepening. I could only laugh at how weird our encounter is. "Neither do I, and I live here. My sister threw this party just to have something to brag about once school starts." The boy explained. His words made me smile. I'm such an idiot. He's definitely hiding from everyone because he kills random party guests. Why else would he not be dancing the night away with the girl of his dreams? "Your name's Alana, right?"

     "How'd you know? I never told you." I backed away from him. He looked hurt. As if I'm supposed to remember who he is. Maybe he's trying to brainwash me into thinking I know him. (I watch too many horror movies, can't you tell? I'm addicted.)

     His smile wiped away. "Relax, Lana. I'm not going to hurt you. We met in elementary school, remember? We used to be best friends."

     Gosh, he's making me feel guilty for not knowing who he is. Yet, the boy is right. We were friends when we were younger. Nothing could break us. Not until I moved. I missed Ryan so much. Mom wouldn't let me call him or visit. Mom said that the Evans' changed their number and that we were simply too busy for visitations. That's why I forgot about him. I forgot his smile, his face, his hugs. I forgot everything we did together. Mom never had any photos of us. Mom never really liked Ryan anyway. Claimed he was too high class and fabulous for me. Mom hated when he called me his princess. She said I will never be his Cinderella, not unless I'm dressed in rags. I will never be his queen. I will always be his maid.

     Ryan Evans was a tough cookie to crack. He's sheltered by his parents, his sister, and his theatre. He hides his insecurities behind his love to be on stage. Ever since kindergarten, when he and I first encountered each other, there wasn't one time where Ryan wasn't impressing the other children with his impersonations or his acting ability, because that's what he loved to do. He told me that it was his dream to be in musicals. It was his dream to be on Broadway. However, Sharpay, his twin sister of vile affect, had the same ideals. She stole his spotlight. She stole his dream and made everything about her. I guess she was jealous. I don't know why she should be. She wanted to model for Vogue magazine. Maybe because her brother would be more well-known than she would. Or maybe she loved her brother. After all, the two did almost every single thing together and they shared similar objects.

     On the first day of school, Ryan gave me his favorite teddy bear. He made me keep it until I gave it back. He promised that it would lift my spirits whenever I was upset. That it would remind me of him. He named it Cuddles for that reason. And he loved Cuddles. On the first day of school, I became Princess. I was vowed to be Ryan's friend unless we had valid reasons why we couldn't. Mom thought it was a toxic friendship. I was forced into an everlasting bond with someone and couldn't leave without letting him know why.

     I never believed my mom. My mom didn't know what she was talking about. My mom had the same relationship with my dad. They loved each other, but they were forced to love each other. I, for one thing, wasn't going to end up like her.

     "Yeah." I said with a smile. "We did."

     It was sad the way he looked at me. As though it was the day I left this city. "We could be friends again, but everything has changed. We are completely different people than what we used to be."

     What he said hurt. People only change because, when they get older, they become interested in something they never thought they would be. People change because of social conformity. Because of their family. But me? I haven't changed. I am still academically inclined. I'm still the same person as he last knew me to be.

     "Did you change?" I asked. "Do you still love theatre? Or did you change because of other people, the way you think I changed?"

     "I still love theatre." He replied. "But did you change?"

     "Not one bit."