2. Xinyue

I don't even know how mother convinced my stubborn grandparents on me coming to America, but here I was, sitting ten thousand feet above sea level. This is like my worst nightmare coming true. It's bad enough that I had to go to a completely new country that speaks a completely new language when some random boy riding a monster dog just laughed at my accent, but I also had to fly fourteen hours, feeling as if every second an angry wind god would want to strike me down.

Angry wind god... where did that come from? As far as I know, I have no imagination, I'm always the perfect girl whose drawings were picture perfect and was flawless at everything. Being 'uncreative' is usually the only place where points gets taken off of.

Clouds drifted by. Some were the thick, fluffy manifestations of cotton wool. Others were the thin sheets of mist that skimmed by the window. Well, on the bright side, I thought, at least I could try sketching them.

No such luck. As if the angry wind god idea changed my entire system, my cloud drawing, which usually would probably look exactly as what I saw outside the window, appeared as big, messy blotches of pencil dust. As if my hand isn't used to controlling the pen, which is supposed to be something I do everyday. Mother glanced at my drawing, her eyes looking sad: "you'll get used to it." What is she talking about? Used to what? The height? The moving? Maybe the trauma of moving to America temporarily shattered my control system or something.

I only managed to catch up on a few winks of sleep right before the flight attendant's annoyingly crisp voice woke everyone up. I already miss my home back in China, even though, for some reason, my memories of home is already becoming fuzzy.

During security, I found myself getting frustrated with the security officers. Was it really that hard to simply hurry up? The passengers had just endured a day-long flight - the least they could do was to speed up the security process!

After an hour, I heard the security officer call, "Mrs. and Miss Lie, please come through the security."

Another hour passed. The officer called again, "Alice - yes that's right, Alice Lie, please come through security."

At least eight females looked up.

"Why does Alice have to be such a common name?" the officer grumbled.

Then he called once more.

"ALICE LIE AND X-IN-YU-E LIE COME THROUGH SECURITY RIGHT NOW!"

It finally dawned on me that he was calling for my mother and I! My face heated up, have I ever blushed before? Maybe when I was little, but I learned to control my facial expressions! It's ok... I silently thought to my self, I'll get used to it.

I guess Chinese names are really hard for Americans.

This could be interesting.

...

Here is something about my mom: though she is always so cheery, she could not have been more serious about wanting me to catch up to studies. I mean, signing me up for school with only one Sunday to change my sleep cycle and get my books ready for school the very next day? The whole thing felt kind of unreal to me. Well, I guess I still have not properly absorbed the fact that I was in America now. America! It seemed so far away to me back when I was in China, and now, bam, I was here. I wondered if I would fit in in the school here.

All of a sudden I began praying, to whatever god that would listen, praying for my time in America to be good, praying I would fit in, praying I wouldn't be judged by my terrible English skills. I want to change, I never knew how I coped with my time in China, where I am treated like a deity among my classmates. I want someone I could talk to, someone that won't be ashamed to talk to 'the perfect student', someone that actually understands the fact that I have feelings too.

But well, that aside, one thing I'm excited about? I would go to 8th grade instead of 7th, like I had hoped! I thought about teachers smiling down at me classmates applauding in admiration - "Good job, Xinyue! 12 years old and in eighth grade!"

However, I also just realized how absolutely atrocious my English was.

Here was how my first few minutes at my new home went.

Friendly Neighbor #1: "Good afternoon! You must be Alice's daughter! You're so cute!

However, to me it sounded like: Good after moon! You mustard compare Alice's dog ter you are so Q-T!"

I stupidly told the old lady: "Its still day time, the moon is not out yet." Perhaps it was my tiredness, but it seemed like quite a reasonable reply at the time.

However, all the old lady understood was: "eats till day tim, the moon eats note ow yet."

Disappointment washed through me like a tidal wave. I immediately started to wonder how I would manage survive in 8th grade. Well, at least I wouldn't be treated like a goddess anymore, now I'll probably be treated like an idiot that couldn't speak correctly. I twirled my hair in my fingers, agitated. Would my classmates erupt into laughter the moment I opened my mouth and said the first word? I bit my lip and shut my eyes tight, trying to block out that image. I took a deep breath.

...

I was woken by the shrill sound of my mother's yelling.

"XINYUE ARE YOU MURDERED IN YOUR SLEEP?! YOU'VE BEEN ASLEEP FOR 24 HOURS STRAIGHT AND WE ONLY HAVE FIVE HOURS TILL ALL THE STORES CLOSE DOWN TO BUY YOUR SCHOOL SUPPLIES!"

I sighed groggily and turned over on my bed. My mom was one of the most forgetful person I had ever known. I mean, if she really wanted to buy the correct school supplies on time, shouldn't she just buy them before going to China? She probably just wanted to annoy me further, or maybe find a chance to take me outside.

"Let me see the list," I mumbled.

My mom showed me the long slip of paper with all the things required for school.

What I saw make no sense at all. The list required 6 dozen pencils, I later learned a dozen means 12, why can't they just say they want 72 pencils? And why in the world would I need 72 pencils for the less than 30 days left of school?

An Inch ruler - isn't centimeters the usual measurement used by scientists? No other country uses inches other than America!

Three pink pearl erasers - who made erasers out of pearl? Does pearl even erase?

Charcoal pencils - as far as I know, charcoals were used to keep a fireplace going. wait no, I think charcoal is also the thing I liked to draw with...

Why were all the supplies so strange?

I refused to buy half of the supplies because I have my preferred school supplies - fountain pens were way better than regular ball point. I also refused to buy erasers that won't erase. If I really had to stay in this foreign place, I damn well was going to at least use my own things from my own home. I smiled, even the ultra perfectly obedient class president could become rebellious.

Finally, my mom took me to a restaurant called "Panda Express".

I was disappointed at the food. If choosing between chow mien and rice is what Americans think Chinese food is, they might've as well not eat Chinese food at all. This food reminds me nothing about the temple I lived in the near suburbs of Shanghai, but I don't even remember what taste my home has. I'm supposed to right? I sighed, maybe this is just temporary memory loss.

While eating, my mom explained my new school to me.

The most disappointing thing about this school? Everything. However, at least it had an orchestra that accepted violinists and a band that accepted pianists. My mother had an odd expression, the expression she wears when she was debating wether tell me the bad news or figure it out myself. What? Did she think an award winning level musician like me couldn't handle a musical group? Even if I never participated in an ensemble, but I'm pretty sure I have the skills to amaze even my teachers.

Oh and did I mention I couldn't have a piano because we are not currently living in one place? My mother said that the school had several music studios where the students could use for practice, and I guessed that was fine, but it still was not the same. Music is something I could never live without, I couldn't remember a day at home without at least playing two hours of piano.

I stared into the last dregs of my drink. So much had changed, and is still going to change. I so dearly hoped that it would be for the better, not the worse.

...

As we got home, my mother dug out an old-fashioned jewelry box decorated with Greek looking symbols from her suitcase, and handed it to me. Carved on metallic golden letters on the top of the box were the words Percy Jackson & the Olympians. I opened the box. Inside, there are five old books, with the top one titled The Lightning Thief.

"It's a really great book, Xinyue! Try reading it, even if you get confused," she told me.

"Why? You never gave me English books before, mom."

"Well... I... I think... I mean, it's important for you to improve your English, Xinyue! And... Ah... Just read it for fun, won't you?"

She did not meet my eye, and I had a feeling she was not telling me something.

Perhaps it was just me, but I had a feeling that she had another purpose other than just reading for fun.

Yay I wrote another chapter! and btw i have a beta reader now I'm so happy! Her name is Sonata Appassionata, or her penname is that. She is amazing! I'm pretty sure my chapter would suck if not for her so I really want to thank her!

Some of the airport parts are based on real facts - I'M NOT EVEN KIDDING NO ONE CAN GET MY NAME RIGHT THROUGH SECURITY! (Well its my fault for stubbornly not changing my name, but its hilarious to watch them struggle!) though its kinda exaggerated.

Oh and I am really happy that in last chapter, Mr. Invincible pointed to me that flying a plane from Shanghai to Chicago is definitely NOT in an hour, so I changed the time in this chapter - sorry I don't know how to edit chapters

Please review! I really want to know what others think of my story ^.^