I don't know. I don't really know anything. Everything is so crazy! Maybe that's why I'm in front of a huge castle-like building now, trying to understand what I'm doing here, reading my curriculum. Heck, they even have ancient runes! I'm in the England Academy of Special Academics. The kids who go here are all maniac smart. Except me, that is.
Two months ago, I was accepted into E.A.S.A., or as some kids in this school like to call it, EAS-ay. ( Well, most of them do.) My dad had been trying to find the best school for me ever since my mom died, claiming she was the one who had done that type of stuff. After two months of research, he decided on a boarding school in London. At first, I was appalled. London? Who just gets up and moves to London? But it turns out, my dad had been planning to move ever since my mom died. He kept saying something about new beginnings this, new beginnings that. I don't understand why we need a new beginning. We already have a fine life! After one last tearful and silent (mostly silent) month with my best friend Della, we got on the plane and moved. When the plane was leaving the runway, I said goodbye to the normal life I had once had, the cozy-but-strange house we all used to laugh so much in. When Mom died, all the laughter just drained out of Dad, and Sasha submerged herself in her electronics. The house turned gray without laughter, which is one of the reasons, I think, why we left. I read on the plane until my eyes hurt, and then I fell asleep. When we got there, I looked at the little house we were going to live in. I realized that it needed some work. Not just housework, but it needed laughter, family, memories. To make new memories, though, we sometimes have to let go of old ones. I think my dad figured London was a new start to finding ourselves again. Only, I'd never been so lost.
As soon as we got settled into our house, my Dad decided to tackle the matter of school. Oh, my God, It was like living hell to get into this stupid school. I had to take so many damn tests! Math test, Reading test, Science test.... the list goes on. It was so bad that sometimes I could just see Satan just hanging out by the window, laughing. Somehow, though, as soon as I was 100% sure I wasn't going to get in, (and fairly happy about it too) the tests came back average- that is, for a smart person- and I got into this place. It was kind of a blur. All I remember is getting the mail for dad before he got home, seeing the letter, reading it, and then I think I screamed. Sasha came downstairs, worried I might be dying or something. Anyway, she saw the letter and gave me a pat on the back, a "That's great, Lena!" and then went right back upstairs. I got a much better reception from my dad, who took Sasha and me out for a celabratory dinner. He even let me get a chocolate volcano! (Rare, and my favorite. I was worried they didn't have them in London.) Either way, It's a boarding school, so I packed, gave a hug to my dad, and hugged Sasha. I think she was actually thinking about missing me. Huh. I got on the train, and I was ok.
There was another boy going to the school in another compartment, but we didn't talk. I spent my time reading a book, and then when that was done, reading a book on my kindle. I had managed to get through two and a half books before we arrived at the school.
We were met by an eccentric blue car with very tinted windows, and we had to squint to see if there was anyone in the car. Finally, a woman with very blonde hair and only two ear pearcings on each ear rolled down the passenger window.
"Well?" She asked, "Aren't you going to get in?" We hurried to put our luggage in the trunk and then both tried to open the same door at the same time. I let him go first, figuring I might as well make a new friend in my new school. I walked around the car and got into the other side and let myself into the car. We sat in silence for awhile, until the blonde, who had introduced herself as Anne, turned on some classical music. The boy and I both gave little jumps. She looked at us and cocked her head a little bit to the left.
"This music ok?" She asked "You know, I can change it if you'd like," I was about to tell her that this music was
fine, and that she should keep it, when the boy finally spoke up.
"Yeah, this is fine. At least for me," He gave a little headnod in my direction. "You?"
"Yeah," I responded, liking the way he asked me if it was ok. We sat in silence for a little longer, listening to the violins and french horns play in harmony. After a while, the boy spoke.
"'Hello. My name's Christopher," He paused, seeming to contemplate something. "Chris-to-ph-er," he repeated softly. He leaned on the window. "C-h-r-is-t-o-pher," He seemed to put extra emphasis on the ph. He seemed to contemplate the word for another minute. Then he seemed to snap out of his reverie, turned to me, and asked,
"What's your name?" I was slightly confused, and a little bit put off, by his strange behavior. It seemed impolite, though, not to answer his question.
"My name is Lena." I said, and then started studying the strange boy staring out the window."Nice to meet you." I added politely. The boy didn't respond. I decided to stop trying. I pulled out my phone and my headphones and started to play my Queen/Led Zepplin/Abba/Elton John/Billy Joel/Michael Jackson playlist. I love my music. I have so many thousands of songs in my playlist. And the crazy thing about it is I know where every single song is. Nevertheless, some of my songs clashed with each other, so I had to sort them into personalized playlists. I even sometimes actually listen to Della's emo/punk music. (Even though I'd never tell her that!) I like to spend most of my time listening to music and writing. Usually at the same time. I have lots of short stories I've written.
I hoped they would have a good writing system in my future school.
Right in the middle of 'Killer Queen', the van pulls to a stop. I look outside. By now it's grown dark, and I can't see anything. Christopher seems to see something, though, so I slide (not gracefully) over to his side of the car. I try to crane my neck over his shoulder to see what he sees that I obviously don't. It doesn't work. Before I can ask him what he sees, Anne looked back at us.
"Here we are!" She said cheerily. " If you need help with your bags, I can message Ryan, but I'd rather not drag him out in this rain, and I don't think he would like being dragged either, so unless you're just dying," She put a huge dramatic emphasis on 'dying' "let's get a move on!" She gave us both curriculums, and we set off into the darkness.
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Yay! First chapter! Do you like my dramatic ending;)? Please comment on how you're liking the story, would love the feedback! Don't forget to share and favorite;)
-Rachel
