Today was the day, the day that marked my departure from California to Massachusetts. It had been planned for a while now, ever since my parents had visited me here. They had left the plane tickets, ensuring that everything was in order. The night before, I had meticulously packed my belongings, making sure to include my most prized possession, a model ship. There was no way I was going to stow it away in a bag; I carried it with me, eliciting a compliment from one of the fellow travelers on its impressive detail. I merely nodded in response, my mind preoccupied with the upcoming journey.
The airport we departed from was a small one, not like the bustling LAX I was used to. Located in Burbank, just behind Downtown LA, it served as our gateway to the next chapter of our lives. Luna, my sister, and I arrived at the gate, seemingly just in time as the boarding process began.
"Flight 1672 for Boston, now boarding," the announcement echoed through the loudspeaker.
We made our way onto the plane, and I took one last glance at the majestic mountain range beyond the runway. It would be the last time I laid eyes on California for a while. Once settled in our seats, the flight attendants went through the safety instructions, which I paid little attention to. Instead, my focus was on examining the model ship, ensuring it remained intact throughout the journey. As the plane took off, I prepared myself for the long flight ahead, attempting to find solace amidst the confined space.
"Luna, if I happen to doze off, please keep an eye on this," I pointed towards the model ship.
She nodded, understanding the significance it held for me.
The abrupt screech of the landing woke me from my slumber. I turned to find Luna cradling the model ship, a small smile forming on my lips as she had fulfilled her promise. The plane taxied towards the terminal, and I retrieved the ship from Luna's care, preparing to disembark once the people ahead of me had made their way down the aisle.
"This plane is so cramped," I grumbled to myself, feeling relieved as we finally reached our destination.
"Thank you for flying with Southwest, and have a good night," the pilot bid farewell to the passengers as I stepped out of the plane.
Logan International Airport greeted us with its sprawling magnitude. It was also the place where the two planes responsible for the tragic World Trade Center attacks had departed from. Retrieving our bags, we found ourselves waiting in the pickup zone for the driver our parents had arranged to transport us to our new home. Silence enveloped us during the wait, a reflection of the coldness that seemed to permeate Boston.
After what felt like an eternity, the driver arrived. The car ride remained quiet, with my gaze fixed upon the cityscape passing by outside the window. Who would I meet in this unfamiliar place? What friends would I make? The thought of forging new connections weighed heavily on my mind. Celeste had been my only friend back in California, as I had mentioned earlier.
"Here we are, 0667 Franklin Ave," the driver announced, breaking the silence.
Now that I think about it, we never did learn his name.
Our new house awaited us, fully furnished to provide a sense of familiarity. However, I knew deep down it would never truly feel like home. After bringing our bags inside, I placed the model ship on a table and stumbled over to the couch, succumbing to the exhaustion that had accumulated. Sleep claimed me swiftly. The next morning, we settled for a McDonald's breakfast, a temporary solution as we were still unfamiliar with the city. At least there was a park right across the street from our house, offering some consolation. I knew I would spend a great deal of time there.
After arriving home, I felt an urge to explore my new surroundings, and what better place to start than the nearby park?
"Luna," I called out to my sister. "Can I go to the park across the street?"
"Sure, I'll text you when I'm ready to make lunch," Luna replied.
"Okay, thanks," I said with gratitude.
Returning to my room, I grabbed Celeste's journals and ventured out the front door. On the porch, I gazed at the park and noticed three figures on the play structure.
"Damn," I muttered under my breath.
Nevertheless, I decided to proceed, albeit avoiding the play structure itself. I took a leisurely stroll around the park before settling on a bench that faced away from the bustling activity. It was there that I opened the journal titled "Dear Best Friend." Curiously, I found that it was addressed to someone named Zeke. I wondered why.
As I began to immerse myself in the words on the page, I heard a female voice behind me.
"Hiya!" she greeted.
Startled, I swiftly closed the book and turned around, coming face to face with a somewhat familiar girl sporting glasses.
"Um, hi?" I managed to say, my mind struggling to recall her identity.
The girl raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in her eyes.
"Do you really not remember me?" she teased.
Taking a moment, I tried to connect the dots, and finally, a memory resurfaced.
"Kristina?" I exclaimed, my surprise evident.
She nodded, a smirk forming on her lips. "The one and only."
"It's nice to finally meet you, Kristina," I sighed in relief.
Curiosity piqued, she inquired, "What's the matter?"
Choosing not to answer her directly, I rummaged through the notebook until I discovered a bundle of letters Celeste had left behind. Among them was one specifically addressed to the exuberant girl now standing before me.
A wave of uncertainty washed over me. Was this the right moment to reveal the contents of the letter? Should I ever give it to her?
YOU ARE READING
Memories
Teen Fiction----- This book series was written by someone who was struggling mentally in high school. Things will be cringey and may not make sense. Harsh topics will be brought up. My only hope is that you have fun if you choose to read. Thank you. Thank you t...
