I wasn't upset about the move. Not in the way that everyone would have believed. I should have been furious. I should have thrown a child like fit and thrown a chair! I should have begged my parents to let me stay in Chicago. I should have done something drastic! But who am I kidding? That's never been my style.
About a week before we left I received an early admission letter from Columbia. Most people would have jumped for joy. I just read the letter then dropped it in the waste basket. I didn't plan on bothering to tell my parents about it because they had been adamant about me going with them. I could have lived on campus. I could have gotten a job to support myself. I could have applied for financial aid or loans but, it was no use.
"We aren't leaving you behind Anna, I'm sorry" said my mom with no conviction in her voice that let me believe that she was really sorry at all.
My parents had always pushed me to do well in school. "You exceed and all doors will open for you" my Dad had said, quoting my grandmother. So that's what I did. I didn't go out, at least not like a normal teenager. I studied hard and even took summer classes. I spent countless hours in the library or at the art museum studying and researching. All for what? I gave up a huge chunk of my youth fighting towards a goal only to have it ripped out from beneath me. Most teenagers would be super excited about moving to Santa Carla or going on a killing spree. Id like to think that my reaction was somewhere in the middle. Not excited, not murderous however, homicide is always an option.
With nothing better to do to get my parents to say yes, I did the logical thing. I packed my things. I teary eyed, somber faced and silently packed my room up. This morning as I carried the last of my bags I took that one last glance at the bedroom I had known for my life's entirety. I thought of all the things I would miss. Then without any more tears to shed I quietly shut the door.
As the plane ascended into the sky from Ohare airport I couldn't help but ponder over the things I should have done in highschool but, opted out of. Like I should have gone to Jenny's graduation party, she invited almost everyone from our class. From what I read on twitter, there was beer and an array of recreational drugs. I should have gone and gotten completely wasted then stumbled into the house just passed dawn so my parents could ground me. But I wasn't invited. Jenny and I had been best friends in eighth grade and because I had turned myself into a virtual recluse freshman year we grew steadily apart. It happens to everyone, I guess. I just cant help but, wonder if I had known that my dream wasn't a possibility would things have been different?
We landed in sunny California at about eleven thirty. Santa Carla, my parents home town, was about an hour away from the airport. As my mom drove the rental car I didn't speak. I just silently pondered this new life as I watched the alien scenery pass me by. It looked just like any Hollywood movie I had ever seen. Palm tree's, people milling about by the beaches scantily clad in bathing suits and shorts and perfect looking. Everyone looked too beautiful and almost too unreal, not like in Chicago.
It was almost one in the afternoon when we pulled into the drive way of our new home. My dad and uncle sam were carrying in a sofa from a huge u-haul truck. I waved as I walked past them and my mom embraced my father.
The house had originally been my grandma Lucy's. She bought it right on the beach after my great-grandfather passed away. She loved it here. It was a small two-story with only three bedrooms and two and a half bathes. The deck on the back porch opened up to her own private beach that she had to share with three other houses. When she died she left the house to my father and my Uncle. I don't know why sam didn't want it. Maybe he prefered the comic stores apartment? In any case my parents didn't want to sell it.
I walked into the kitchen and silently surveyed my surroundings. My dad had been going back and forth between Chicago and here for a few weeks. It was strange to see our things from Chicago in this new enviroment. The kitchen at home had been a pretty light blue. My grandmother had preferred sunny yellows or bright reds.
"Anna? Your room is upstairs to the left. Your dad said he and Sam got the bed set up" said my mom coming in from the living room. I nodded and proceeded up the creaky back stairs. If I had been a regular teenager I would have been dismayed thinking no way I'll be sneaking out of the house with that racket giving me away! But lets face it, I couldn't sneak out even if I wanted to, no place to go.
I found my room easily. My Dad must have painted it on one of his trips out here. Lavender purple, my favorite color. The room was larger than the one at home. My bed sat in the middle of the far wall and the two windows on either side of the head board faced the ocean view. I smirked as I looked out the window realizing that I wouldn't need the stairs to sneak out. I could just climb out onto the roof and jump down.
After placing my bag on the hard wood floor I went about unpacking my things. My dresser and armoire had been brought two weeks ago and as I listened to my father and uncle argue over how to get the china hutch in the house, I began to refill them with my belongings.
