There is a soft knock on my door. "Who is it?" I ask.
"Your mother," A muffled voice replies.
"You may enter into my abyss," I reply, deliberately putting on a dramatic voice. 'Not About Angels' by Birdy is playing, which may be the reason Mum looks sympathetically at me on the floor as if I'm dying or something. I reach out and change the song; 'Sing' by Ed Sheeran comes on which is at least more cheerful, if not about a drunk guy hitting on a girl in a bar.
"You OK?" She asks gently.
"Yup," I reply, but my minimalistic answer doesn't seem to satisfy her.
"You sure?" She looks genuinely worried, so I stand up as if to make a point that I'm not an abandoned puppy in the rain.
"Yes!" I exclaim, "I'm fine! Perfect, actually."
"Really?"
"Yes! Look, I'm so happy I can even jump!" I jump up and down twice before knocking my lamp off my desk. I dive to catch it and successfully do so.
"I never doubted your ability to jump, to be honest," She says, "Did your sister talk to you?"
"Who? What? Oh, right, her... Um, yeah, totally, we had a really nice, long talk. I-I'm inspired, actually. I feel like painting a masterpiece, or helping an old lady cross the street or something of the like..." I trail off when I see the look on Mum's face, a look of someone suppressing a laugh.
"Helping an old lady cross the street? When have you ever done that?"
"I, um, never. But that's the whole point, I'm inspired to do something new. I've never painted a masterpiece either, actually come to think of it, I haven't painted much at all. And I did help Gran cross the street once!"
"Right, ok then. Well, if you're really ok-"
"-Which I am," I interrupt.
"Yeah, so, I'll be going now."
Just as Mum turns to go out I ask, "When is Dad getting home?"
At which point I hear the crunch of tires on the gravel.
"Daddy's home!" I exclaim loudly just as Heather walks past going to the bathroom. Mum giggles as Heather raises her eyebrows and looks at me like I'm a pathetic bit of garbage.
"I-I mean," I stutter, trying to recover from my outburst. "I mean, cool, Dad's home. I'll go get some, err, chocolate then. And it'll be a total coincidence if I see him and say 'hi' to him casually at the door," I wander out of my room, but then loose my cool and bolt down the stairs, excited to greet the only person (besides Fido, who's a dog anyway, and my cousin) who accepts me for who I am.
YOU ARE READING
New Kid in America
Novela Juvenil'Looking at the school from afar, it looks exactly like all the films and TV programmes. Even the people seem to act the same. Something tells me that the cool kids back home wouldn't stand a chance here, which means only one thing; I'll be eaten al...
