Cheyenne: The Art of Love and Jealousy

Chapter One: Cheyenne

"Mom! Have you seen my new notebook?"

Fifteen-year-old Cheyenne Brooks was tearing her usually clean bedroom apart looking for her agenda notebook her mom had bought her earlier that day. She was starting her first day of ninth grade at her new high school the following morning and she was frantically trying to put her backpack together. She didn't want to forget anything on the first day of high school.

Cheyenne and her mother Sarah had moved to a city called Milpitas in Santa Clara County, California. It was located with San Jose to its south and Fremont to its north, at the eastern end of State Route 237. Cheyenne didn't mind it, but it didn't feel like home yet. They moved from a small village on the northern California coast because her mother had found a new, better-paying job. Cheyenne wasn't happy about moving at first, but her mom told her that they wouldn't have to live paycheck to paycheck anymore because they would be making more than enough, and that also meant Cheyenne could have her own bedroom. After being reassured more than several times she would make new friends, and being exposed to different cultures would be an enjoyable experience, Cheyenne had reluctantly agreed to move.

It had always been just the two of them together since Cheyenne was nine years old. Cheyenne didn't mind being an only child though that may have been because she had a better relationship with her mother than most girls her age. Sarah still had the role of the mother and made sure Cheyenne did what she was supposed to. On the other hand, Sarah told her daughter everything. Cheyenne knew who had asked Sarah on a date and how they were turned down. Cheyenne had grown up with a mother and a big sister all in one person, though Cheyenne liked her more as a friend than as a mother. She felt Sarah was trying too hard sometimes because she felt she was supposed to say things other mothers said.

There was one major personality trait that she inherited from Sarah. Cheyenne was a natural chameleon. She blended in nearly anywhere she went and made friends within minutes. She liked that about herself. She figured if she was just herself here, she would make friends, but she got a little more than she bargained for. As she walked around the mall with her mom, Cheyenne spotted different types of people she'd never seen before. There were men in turbans, women in very pretty garments her mom said were called Saris, a nationality Cheyenne recognized as Asian, but there were others she couldn't even guess.

"Mom!" Cheyenne called again. She was looking through the drawers on her desk wondering if she somehow placed her agenda in one of them on accident while she was unpacking. It was vital to Cheyenne that she find it because it's what she used to copy down the homework for the day.

"It's on the dining room table, Chey," said Sarah coming in, and looking around her daughter's now disastrous bedroom. "Was this really necessary?"

"Of course!" said Cheyenne brightly, hurrying past her mother.

She bolted down the stairs, to the dining room, and grabbed her pink and turquoise striped notebook. She ran back upstairs with loud thuds as her old sneakers hit the hardwood floors. Once back in her bedroom, she put her notebook in her brand new blue denim and white lace bag and zipped it up quickly.

"That's everything," she said with a deep breath. She was panting slightly, but not to the point where it was difficult to breathe.

"Well, now that you've packed for school," said Sarah, with a tone of amused irritation in her somewhat raspy voice, "could you please clean up your room?"

"You always ask me to clean my room, unnecessarily," said Cheyenne with an overly dramatic sigh, falling backward onto the pile of clothes that covered her day bed. "My room is always clean."

"Well, now it's not. It looks like your bedroom was hit by an F3 tornado."

"That's because it was," said Cheyenne with a grin. She sat bolt upright on the bed and looked at her mother. "Today's disaster is brought to you by Hurricane Cheyenne! Okay, let me eat lunch, and then I'll clean my room."