Albuquerque, New Mexico. It wouldn't have been my first choice to live but Mama was happy here. She met Jose and was smiling for the first time since Papi died. It was nice to see a change in personality.
A few years ago, the Montez family (my family) received the worst news in our short history. Papi and pancreatic cancer caused by undiagnosed diabetes. It was tragic. Mama had to work double the hours to pay for the chemo and even I, a thirteen year old girl, to jobs trying to raise money for my family. Despite all efforts, Papi died a year later.
Mama was distraught. She couldn't understand how God could've punished her so cruelly. She went to Mass every Sunday and Saturday, was in the choir, and helped the community. She was a Catholic woman to the bone. She had never done anything that violated the Bible in her 46 years of life.
A few months after Papi's death, she met Jose Anoti. He was a representive who worked closely with the church. After a whirlwind romance, they got married. Mama finally realized why God had taken her husband away. It was to prevent an affair. If Papi hadn't died and Mama had still met Jose, she would've started an affair.
"The Good Lord has a reason for his doings," Mama would tell me constantly. After this, she devoted more time to the church. A month after being remarried, Mama and Jose decided to move to New Mexico. So, the Montez family packed up their things and we took the journey from Mexico City to Albuquerque, New Mexico in America.
Thankfully, Papi had taught me English as well as Spanish so I would be able to start in my Sophomore year at East High. Little did I know what would come.
"Gabriella Montez?"
I looked up from my book and into the eyes of a boy around my age. I could read people well and I immediately knew that he was a shallow, egotistical, desperate teenager.
"Yes?" I asked politely. I remembered what Mama had told me. Act polite. Follow the example of God.
"Um, Mr. Julian told me to give you your schedule and answer any questions. So, here's your schedule," the boy said, he handed me a piece of paper.
I took it from his hands and glanced down.
"What's your name?" I asked.
"Justin. Justin Marcoski. I'm a junior," Justin said, giving a wide smile. I squinted, unwanting to be blinded by his bright smile.
"Sophomore," I replied.
"I noticed you got a lot honor classes. And Spanish 105! That's pretty impressive. Do you speak it fluently?" Justin asked.
"Yeah. I'm originally from Mexico," I stated, making sure to enunciate the h sound in Mehico. He laughed.
"Here, your locker is 555. That should be pretty easy to remember. Its on the second floor. I'll show it to you," Justin said.
I followed him up the stairs and past bright green lockers. We turned another corner and arrived to a row of silver lockers. Students filled the space, laughing, talking, chatting.
"Here!" Justin announced proudly. Her pointed to a silver locker with "555" on it. I smiled at twisted the lock, opening the locker with my combination.
Two seconds later, two girls came over to me. One was a chubby girl with curly brown hair and the other was a African American girl with silky, short brown hair.
"Ooh! My locker neighbor!" squealed the black girl.
"Hi, I'm Taylor and this is Martha," she said, gesturing to the chubby girl.
"Hi!" I said, waving to the pair. "I'm Gabriella.
"Um…I'll just leave y'all to it," Justin said. He walked off.
I turned and face my locker neighbor. I noticed that Martha had walked off with Justin, blushing ferociously at something he had said.
"Does Martha like Justin?" I asked, watching the two scamper down the hallway. Taylor nodded, a smile on her face. This was going to be a fun school year. I could already tell.