Today was the day. To be perfectly honest, I was quite a bit nervous about the move. I've never had a house other than the one I was living in before, and I didn't quite know the people I'd be living with.
It's just one school year. I told myself, trying to calm my nerves as I looked at the cloudy scenery below me. Don't get attached. Stay unnoticeable and you'll leave nothing behind when it gets to the point where you do leave. Just one year.
Don't get me wrong, I was psyched my parents let me go on this trip, but it didn't feel the same. It hurt just as much to leave behind the little number of friends I had for this short excursion, and I couldn't help but feel a bit of a hole that they used to fill back home. Nothing about this trip felt right to me.
Out of utter stupidity, I hadn't researched where I was going too much. I only knew just enough to talk my family into letting me go, and even then it didn't feel like enough. Yet, I didn't do any more than that. There wasn't too much information about the place that I could find- just that it was in central Oregon and that there was a huge forest surrounding it. As a bonus I told my parents it could help me get over my stupidly huge fear of spiders, that seemed to sell them very quickly.
So, that's how I found myself here, 35,000 feet in the air and flying across the country because my parents wanted me to have "new experiences" in a different place. I am honestly unsure if I should feel regret for having the idea or nervousness of what the new place was like. What would the transfer parents even be like? Things were probably way different there than in Pennsylvania. Maybe slang terms or general way of talking. Crap! Oregon must be a whole different world!
I bit my thumbnail as I scanned the world outside. Nothing but clouds for miles, almost if the air had an entirely separate ground to it. I wondered what it would be like to walk on clouds if one could. People always advertise their stuff as "feeling like a cloud", but wouldn't that just feel like fog? Wait, I'm off track.
We began our descent towards Bend Municipal Airport. The kids next to me were bouncing up and down in their seats, and their parents gave them a heart-stopping glare as the seat belt light came on. The father mouthed a polite "sorry" to me as he reached across the aisle to help his kids fasten their seat belts. I just smiled back and buckled my own.
The ride down was smooth, the clouds seeming to part for the flying craft. The ground below was a dizzying sight as it became closer and closer, showing the sudden switch from an almost map-like earth to defined details and 3D structures. I wasn't sure whether to be scared or amazed at the sight, even if the falling feeling made me want to barf my tacky airplane food back up. Still, though, the effect was cool.
Getting off the plane was a blur. I've never gotten off a plane by myself, so I had to run through everything in my head. Get off the plane, go to the baggage pick up and get my suitcase, then go outside and look for a sign with my name on it. Right. All the beats to getting things done. It was a shame, though. I just got up from sitting down for hours and I was going to have to do it again.
Sighing, I walked up to the baggage claim and waited. And waited. And waited. Damn, how many people flew here? I looked around, a bit nervous that I may have missed the bag, but my face brightened when I saw the colorful tag I attached to it. I quickly grabbed the bag and pulled it off. I grabbed my few other bags and marched off to the front of the airport.
Seconds of waiting turned to minutes, minutes to an hour. Maybe I should've called them or something, but I just figured they'd show up eventually. I watched the sun set off in the distance to pass the time, sitting on my suitcase. Funny, it was evening when I left. Time zones were weird, it was like, 11:00 back home. Just thinking about it made me more tired than I already was.
It took another half hour for them to show up. Another half hour of waiting. It got dark quick here, too, so that was fun. At the very least, there were fewer spiders at the airport than at home. I stared blankly into the distance as a car rolled up to the walkway. The driver, a fairly young looking man, leaned over the empty passenger seat to take a look at me. I fidgeted as he slowly studied my features.
"Are you Erin Lee?" He asked, his voice smooth and soft. His hair was blonde and could only be described as a mop. It was hard to tell in the dark, but he had light hazel eyes hidden behind thick, rectangular glasses. The man looked different than people in New York, though probably like anyone else over here. He was, to say, normal-looking.
I nodded back at him, trying to think of what words to talk back with. It was always hard with first meetings, wasn't it? It's hard to judge the way people are based on a few words and looks, so you can't really pick a way of speaking before it's too late. The best one could do is guess, i suppose.
"That's right. Are you part of the host family taking me in? From Gravity Falls?" It was a dumb question, I know, and I could easily guess the answer. Luckily, he didn't make a look to say I seemed stupid for asking, he just chuckled.
"Yep, the name's Markus. You'll be living with me and my parents this year." He leaned further over and undid the handle on the passenger door, opening it for me. I said a quiet 'Thank you' and stepped inside, setting my bags in the back. I took a breath in and shut the door. Was this dumb? Getting in a car with a stranger? Well, he did know who I am… Whatever, I'll find out eventually.
He started up the car, a small, confused look on his face. I could tell, he was holding something in, but I probably looked worse. My arm was on the windowsill, head resting on the palm of my hand. My face probably looked troubled, too. After a few more minutes, he spoke up.
"Why'd you decide to go on this trip? Don't take this the wrong way, but you don't seem the outgoing type, to me at least." He glanced over, waiting for a response, then turned his eyes back on the road. I thought for a few seconds, turning to face the window.
"I thought it'd help," I muttered, "to, you know, help with that." I sighed and closed my eyes. It was obvious, it seemed, that I was socially inept. I had a feeling that I would have a difficult time making friends here. Markus shook his head.
"Yeah, you're about that age, aren't you? Where life sucks. Maybe not as bad as middle school, but still early high school, right?" He shook his head, not even waiting for me to answer. He chuckled, not meanly, but as if this were an easy conversation. "That's alright, I was that way too. You just have to meet the right people." His grin never faltered while saying that.
It took a while to think of a response. For some reason I just couldn't. I kicked off my shoes and sat criss-cross in the car seat, trying to trick myself into thinking that this was the same as home. The words wouldn't come, so I just let myself speak.
"Who are the right people?" I asked. Yeah, sure, like this guy who is maybe two years older than me actually knew. He stayed silent for a bit, so I continued. "I mean, you probably don't know, but do you think this place will have those people. Y'know… good friends for me?"
It didn't take long before he was laughing again. This time, though, I couldn't tell if he was laughing at me or at the dumb things I say.