Nine Ways (Revised AGAIN) Chapter 5

I finished my first day of school peacefully, yet painstakingly slow. The hours on the clock ran slower than a skunk, the people stared at your more than a cautious bird whose ears pick up on every little sound you made and the teachers talked more than your friends little brother when they had something really important to tell you. But one thought never failed to leave my mind. As I sat on the bus at the pathetically lame age of seventeen, I let my hair fall in my eyes-kind of like the way that Dalia used to hide her beautiful eyes whenever a compliment was given her way. And I leaned my head against the cold glass with my eyes closed, and I trustfully let the bus driver lug me around in this pernicious Montana weather. I may have felt something special to a select few back in Ohio, but nobody was complimenting me here. I was the new girl.

There was nothing special about the way I wore my dusky hair - pushed far enough out of my eyes so that I could see, but still lingering in my vision just in case I wanted to hide. And nothing was even remotely special about my clothes. I had a purple sweatshirt, jeans, and converse. And addmitably, my personality was just plane-Jane normal and dry. I wasn't outgoing. I wasn't funny. I wasn't uncommonly nice. I was just Jeanah. And unfortunately, if you didn't know Jeanah, then there wasn't anything to look forward to with her. But as the bus rolled forward, images of my four best friends popped into my head. Who am I kidding? I thought. I need them in my life.

I can't push them out now just because we're miles apart. I could see the unanswered e-mails and texts in my mind, and I could hear the calls that I never returned. Something hurt inside of me. The kids I met at school that day were nice, but I needed something more than that. I needed true friends like Lacey, Dalia and Riya. They saw the real Jeanah. Out of everyone in the entire world, they were the ones I felt truly comfortable with. But more importantly, if I were going to survive at a school where nobody knew the real me, then I would have to have something to look forward to. Whether my parents liked it or not, I was going to see my friends. I had to. We had been together since elementary school, and as the bus bumped my head against the window and my eyes ran laps under their sockets, they were still my best friends. And I needed them.

"Hey," I called to my neighbor as he got off the bus. He was about to cross the street after the bus pulled away. I could tell I caught him off guard. He stopped mid-stride and spun his head around quickly with a quizzical expression on his face. "I..." I was a little embarrassed at what I had just done. I remember the way he had reacted me talking to him after ceramics class, and I felt completely silly for trying to talk to him. Maybe it was the weather, and maybe it was because I had spent the previous ten minutes thinking about my plan, but I wanted to tell someone. Little did I know that the kid would be my accomplice. That shy Dutch kid.
*******
When I stepped through the front doors after my first day at Butte High, my parents were waiting for me in the living room.
"Well?" They panhandled eagerly. I could see the excitement reverberating in their eyes, radiating out with their eyelashes. Did you make any new friends? Did you find your way around the school okay? Are the teachers nice? How do you like your classes?
"It was okay," I said flatly, heading down the hall to my bedroom.
"Just okay?" My father called after me as I shut my door.
"Yeah," I called back through the wood. I tossed my bag on the chair pushed under my desk and tried to locate a pair of sweatpants. My day had been uncomfortable enough without the help of my stiffly jeans.

I could hear my parents shuffling through the living room and down the hall to my room. Their footsteps kept getting louder and louder and when they were finally at the door, I called,
"Just a minute- I'm changing" before they could even knock.
"Well, Jeanah, honey," my mother obliged to say, not catching onto the hint. "What happened today?" I sighed.
"Mom," I deliberated. "Just a minute, okay? I'm changing."

I tugged off my jeans that were drenched at the bottom and stained with salt and slipped on my sweatpants. I didn't feel like talking about my day. Nothing of particular interest happened that day, anyway. I made lunch-buddies, seldom talked out of turn and I had my first official rumor spread about me. But I didn't want my parents knowing that last part. The last thing I wanted in this school was for my parents getting involved in a silly little rumor at school. I did not want to be that kid. All I actually wanted to do was hop on the computer and respond to those e-mails that I hardly glanced at... to punch their memorized cell phone numbers into my cell phone's dialing pad and talk to them for hours on end just like we used to. I had to see them. My friends were a huge part of my life in Ohio, and just because we were on opposite sides of the United States did not mean we couldn't still be in each other's lives. I could've made it happen. All I had to do was find a way to get enough money to pay for my way over to them. Perhaps I could've gotten a job and saved up. Then, during Spring Break I could stay with one of my friends. I was seventeen, and I reasoned that it wouldn't be too hard finding a job in such a small town at my approximate age.

"Jeanah," my dad sang, disrupting my thoughts after the designated time frame it takes for one to change their pants. "Come on, darling; tell us about your day." I swung the door open and saw them leaning against the walls of the hall, each looking as worried as the next. I smiled.
"I said it was okay," I said trying to stifle a laugh realizing that my parents misconstrued my quick summary of my day. "It wasn't good, but it certainly wasn't bad." They looked relieved as I said that. "I made some new friends at lunch, but other than that the rest of the school day was exceedingly dull." They were beaming.

"So you made some new friends?" Mom repeated.
"Uh-huh."
"What are they like?" My father chimed in.
"Umm... I don't know," I said failing to find the right defining words. "They're nice."
"Hm." Dad grunted. "As long as they're nice..." he eyed me suspiciously. "This better be a good crowd for you to be hanging around with, young lady."
"Oh, believe me, Dad," I reassured. "They're very nice respectable people."
I made a move to exit the hall and hung left to the kitchen so that I could raid the fridge of any good food we had, and of course my parents followed suit.

"Jeanah, you don't look like you're too happy with your day," my mother squeaked as I grabbed a handful of Goldfish. My father nodded reclusively. In my head, I had two possible ways to respond to this. The first way, I reasoned, I could submiss the fact that something was on my mind. Sure, I had an okay day, but I was pretty down about the fact that I had once tried to push my friends away. I could lie tell my mother that I was one hundred and eighty thousand percent happy with my day, and give her a look like I don't even know where you got that ridiculous idea from. Or, the truth could actually come out. The two options fought a quick, hard battle, but darkness always loses in the end.

"I just miss my friends is all," I said.
"Oh, honey," my mother sang sympathetically with a glint in her eyes. "I know you guys were really close, and it's hard that you won't be able to see them." I nodded solemnly.
"I want to see them, though," I responded. I didn't like the way my mother left the statement hanging. '..It's hard that you won't be able to see them....' Everyday? Ever again? What?
"I know," she said.
"When will I see them?" I asked, cutting her off.

"Jeanah, honey," my father said, saving my mother from having to answer. They exchanged weary glances and my father gave my mother a curt nod. I eyed them suspiciously. Something had happened while I was at school today. "Now that we're in Montana... and we're so close to family... It just doesn't make sense to go all the way back to Ohio. Your mother and I aren't friends with your friends... It's just pointless for all of us to go back there."

"Wow," I said, caught off guard. "You're not letting me see them anymore?"
"Now Jeanah calm down," my dad began.
"No!" I cried. I felt like a sixth grader again, being over dramatic but I didn't care. "You're not friends with them, but I am. So let me go see them. I wasn't asking you if we could see them. I was asking if I could."

"Jean," my father sighed. "There's no chance we're going to let you on a plane by yourself this day and age."
"I really don't care what you say at this point," I said stubbornly. "I'm not just going to forget them for the rest of my life. It's not that easy. Whether they're coming here or I'm going there, I am going to see them." I stormed off menacingly back towards my room and clicked the lock on my door.
After a long two hours of reclusive sitting, I unlocked the door and came out of my room to apologize to my parents. After all, I wasn't going to get what I wanted by acting like I was eleven.