"So. . .This is Everwood," Calla sighed, getting out of the vehicle. She looked around. The house beside the driveway in which they had parked was fairly small. Tucked away from the end of Magnolia Drive. Judging by all the Chrysler New Yorker's and Lincoln Continentals, it was highly unlikely that a teenager lived in one of the nearby houses. She opened the back passenger's side door and started grabbing boxes.

"Here," Marcus said, pulling a set of keys from his pocket and tossing them in Calla's direction.

"Thanks," she replied sarcastically, watching the keys bounce off the top of the box she was carrying. After setting the box on the porch, she returned to the front lawn for the keys. Unlocking the front door, she entered the house she would be spending more time than she wanted to in. It wasn't that bad, really. Their furniture had already arrived and been set up by the moving crew. It wasn't something the moving crew usually did, but extra pay was ambition enough. Taking the box she had abandoned on the porch up to her room, she hoped that her room, at least, looked a little like home. And it did. It was nearly the same size; the windows, door, and closet were in the same spots; her furniture just needed a little rearranging. The view from the windows was a little different. But, it was something kind of familiar.

"Hey! Calla?"

"Yeah?" She appeared at the top of the stairs.

"I think I can manage bringing the rest of the boxes in. So, why don't you go to the school and get your schedule and stuff."

"And stuff," she repeated.

"Well, yeah. Stuff. . .I don't know. They're expecting you to come for a tour today."

"Oh. Did school already start, or something?"

"Yeah. About a week ago."

"Where is this school?" Marcus handed her directions and the keys. She looked at the monstrous excuse for a mode of transportation, sighing. Her dad and his Durango. That's one relationship she never wanted to understand. "Um, I'm not gonna be driving through this town with that attached to it." She pointed at the trailer.

He sighed, setting the boxes he was holding on the lawn. "Okay. I'll take it off." He took the keys from Calla and went over to the SUV. After backing it out and parking it in front of the house, he unattached the trailer from the hitch.

"Thanks." She walked around to the other side of the vehicle and got in. She turned the key in the ignition and buckled her seatbelt, then glanced at the directions in her hand to County High. "Oh, this is gonna be tons of fun," she said to herself in mock enthusiasm. Finding the high school okay, she pulled into the closest empty space in the parking lot. Entering the building, she was surprised to find herself somewhat afraid. This was the first time she'd been the 'new student.' She knew no one here. A bell rang and students flooded the hall. Nobody paid her much mind as she headed down the busy corridor. The office wasn't too difficult to locate and she quietly opened the door, entered the room, and took a seat in an empty chair.

A graying lady stood from behind the counter. "I'm Miriam. You must be Calla Porter." She extended her hand, smiling.

Calla stood and shook the older woman's hand. "Yeah. You can call me Cale, though."

"Okay, Cale." Miriam handed her a sheet of paper with a list of classes on it. "This is your class schedule. Um, a student should be on his or her way here to take you on the tour."

"Thank you, Miriam." She returned to her chair and looked over the classes she had. Physics, Advanced English, Calculus - my favorite class. . .an open block, yay. . . art, British Literature. . .thanks, Dad. . .Espa(ol. . .and another open block. This would be a glory day for the slackers at home. Two whole open blocks. Now, all I need to find is the library, she thought, clearly not paying attention when another student entered the office.

"Is that her?" the student asked Miriam, pausing at the counter.

"Yes. Calla Porter, this is Rachel Nolan," Miriam replied.

"Hi," Calla said, forcing a smile for the preppy girl before her and outstretching her hand. "You can call me Cale."

"Okay, Cale," Rachel began, briefly shaking Calla's hand. "Can I see your schedule?"

Calla handed it to her. Rachel looked over it as she led Calla out of the office. The hall had cleared. It was completely empty. At Hope Springs High, there would still be a good two or three people wandering around. Hello, County High. "Could you show me the library, too. If it isn't too much trouble?" Calla rolled her eyes at the sound of her own voice.

"Yeah. Whatever. Advanced English and British Literature are both in this room," Rachel said monotonously, gesturing at the door she had stopped in front of. A few more doorways down the hall, she stopped again. "This is the science room - Physics is taught here. And, across the hall is where they teach Calculus and the other math classes." She looked blankly at Calla. "Oh. Yeah. The art room and the library."

Calla sighed heavily as she followed Rachel down another hallway. She paused in front of a door from which she heard light piano music. "Is this where the music department is?" she asked looking through the window and seeing a dark-haired boy about her age sitting on the piano bench.

"No. That's where they teach the ballet class." Calla wasn't sure if Rachel was being sarcastic or not. "And, a piece of advice: if you want any friends, stay away from that kid." Rachel started down the hallway again. At the end, she stopped. She pointed to her right. "That's the cafeteria. Straight ahead is the library, and, at the very end of this hallway, on your left, is the art room."

As they headed back towards the office, Calla realized she didn't have any books. "Do you know where I'm supposed to get my text books?"

"In the office," Rachel said as if it was something everyone knew.

"Thanks." Hopefully not everybody here is like you, Calla thought to herself, staring at the back of Rachel's head. I've put up with enough people like you. She entered the office alone, Rachel continued down the hall. "Rachel said that I could get my books here."

"Oh. Yes. I forgot. Silly me." Miriam disappeared into a different part of the office, returning with a box which she set on the counter. "Okay, we got Brit. Lit., English, Physics, Spanish, and, oh my, Calculus. You good at math?"

"Eh. . .I try," Calla laughed. "Um, I noticed that I have two open blocks. . ."

"Oh. Well, considering that you're a senior and that you practically have enough credits to graduate, we decided that you didn't need to take any more than six classes. Well, unless you want to, that is."

"Um, no. This is fine." Calla took the box after placing her schedule inside it. "Thanks, Miriam. I'll see you tomorrow."

"We'll start with the fifth class listed there tomorrow, okay?"

"Yep. This is how we did things at home."

"Okay."

"Have a good day."

"You, too."

Calla pushed the door open with her back after turning the knob. As she approached where she had parked, a car pulled into the space beside hers. She juggled the box as she tried to get the keys out of her pocket. "Oh, radioactive monkey piss," she groaned.

This outburst elicited a laugh from the occupant of the car. "You need some help?"

"Um, no?"

"Here." He took the box from her. "I'm Bright, by the way. Bright Abbot. You're new."

"Yes, I am." Calla replied, unlocking the doors and opening the one for the backseat. Bright set the box inside. "Thanks. I'm Calla Porter, but you can call me Cale."

"Hello, Cale," he said, shaking her hand. "So, where'd you move here from?"

"Hope Springs, Iowa."

"Iowa?"

"Yeah. Contrary to popular belief, it really is a state. It's major exports include corn, tractors, more corn, and Elijah Wood."

Bright smiled. "I know that Iowa's a state. It was nice meeting you. I'll see you tomorrow."

Calla got into the Durango, smiling as she watched Bright head towards the school. "Okay. . .so maybe this won't be as bad as initially thought."