Who are you actually?

From Chicago to Canada

"Mom, this bites," I said, walking into the brand new kitchen. 

"Honey, I know you're upset but you'll make friends!" she exclaimed.

"Mom, I had friends in Chicago."

"Well, now you'll make friends here!" she replied enthusiastically.

God, sometimes her optimism was really annoying. As I sat down on the unfamiliar chair, my mother said, "Alessandra, I want you to go to the neighbor's house and give them these brownies I made. Introduce yourself. Maybe you'll make some new friends!"

"Mom, I just woke up."

"Well, it's 11:00,"

"Mom, what if they have a weird, creepy daughter and someone sees me associating with her? I could be deemed a loser before I even start school tomorrow!" I said only half jokingly.

"Honey, I don't think any hidden cameras are going to be on you today," she replied.

"Ugh, fine. Let me get dressed first at least."

I ran upstairs and threw on a red t-shirt, jeans and some white sneakers. My light brown hair was in a messy side braid and my eyelashes were coated with mascara. As I stepped outside, the brisk Canada wind almost toppled me over. I ran back inside, grabbed my brown jacket, and headed into the kitchen.

"Hey, dress any cuter and I'd think you're trying to make some friends!" mom said. 

"Ha ha, very funny," I replied sarcastically. 

Brownies in hand, I turned left from the cement driveway and entered the house with the mailbox labeled 'Mendes." 

"You can do this," I said aloud before knocking on the mahogany door twice. 

"Hello?" a little girl with long brown hair asked as she opened the door a crack.

"Hi, um, I'm Alessandra, your, uh, new neighbor. Is your mom home?" I asked nervously.

"Woah, you're pretty," she said in awe. 

"Oh, no. Thank you though."

"Are you a fangirl?" she asked playfully.

"Excuse me?" 

"'Cause Shawn's not interested."

"Who's Shawn? Look, I'm just here to give your mom some brownies from my mom. We just moved in next door," I said pointing towards my new house. 

She came out, looked towards the house, and smiled. "Oh, hehe. Come in!"

I slowly came inside still with the stupid brownies in hand. 

"Aaliyah? Who's there?" a male voice called from another room. 

Suddenly, a teenage boy, about sixteen years old, appeared. He had short, dark brown hair and a popsicle in his right hand. In his left hand, a remote control rested. His shirtless body captivated my attention and almost made me drop the brownies.

"Oh, uh, hi," I said, trying not to stare at his perfect abdomen. 

"Look, I'm sorry, but we're not interested in any girl scout cookies," he said slowly.

"I'm not selling anything. I'm bringing these to your mom. I just moved next door."

"Oh, so you're the lucky girl who gets to live next to Shawn Mendes. Look, if I find any nude pics of me online, I'm blaming you," he said only half-jokingly.

"Woah, who do you think you are? A movie star?" I retorted sassily.

He gave me a long stare and then said suspiciously, "wait, you don't know who I am?" 

"Should I?" I asked.

"Where did you say you moved from?" he asked in disbelief.

"I didn't," I said curtly. 

I placed the brownies on the foot of the staircase and said hotly, "I would say nice meeting you but that'd be a lie."

As I stormed out of the house, he ran out yelling, "wait!" 

I turned around and he said sincerely, "I'm sorry for my rudeness. Please, can we have a do-over?"

I smiled and said, "No, hotshot."

I left him in his driveway with a stunned expression. Don't mess with Chicago.