I'm shaving my legs for the first time in the new house in the new bathroom tub. I laver up my right leg and run a freshly opened green razor up my leg, loving the sound it makes. The new bathroom is white. A frosted window is set dead center in the wall. As I shave I try and decide if I like this new space or not.

It's… quant. A nice open room, but once my mother's water color pictures are nailed to the wall it'll look more finished. I rinse and run my whole hand over my legs and smile- so smooth, like silk. Grabbing a yellow towel from the rack I dry off.

The odd part is the only thing I will truly miss about my old home is my garden. It sat neatly beside the back window so every morning I could watch it catch the sun's light. Fumbling now through a box to find my cotton blue dress I sigh and toss my hair back so I can see.

We're going to see the town today. The church included, my dad can't hold in his excitement. It's good to see him this way. He's got the old guitar out and singing hymns in the kitchen, I can hear him and mom belting out Amazing Grace.

I slip into the dress with ease; it's an old favorite of mine. I look at myself in the mirror while I button it up. My hair is a little curlier then it usually is. I leave one button undone at the very top and fluff my frizzy hair.

The house is growing on me, slowly but I'm sure I'll learn to love it. I miss the south for many reasons. The weather mostly, I liked having all the seasons. I miss the dirt, when I walk outside its just sand. I make a quick mental note to find a good clean grassy area some time this summer.

I watch myself in the mirror and tilt my head and sigh. I twirl around my bare feet rubbing against the bathroom tile roughly. I take a seat on the closed toilet lid. I bow my hand slightly and breathe heavily.

'God? Hey. Thanks again for giving my dad a job. I'm sure he'll love it and I know Jackson will do great in college. He's bright; it's buried in there somewhere. Oh, look over mom, she's just putting up a strong front, but I know she's sad about leaving her old job. I hope she finds something here, something right for her

…I know we haven't been talking regularly… like we used too. I'm sorry. It's just moving and everything- it happened so fast. But I know you have it all planned. But do you think… can you let me find someone? I would really like a friend. I've never had anyone… is that too selfish? Anyway, thank-you, for loving me and caring for me.'

Taking another deep breath I raise my head and look around. This bathroom is so different, everything is different. But it will be good for me, it will.

Getting up I walk with a determined smile into the kitchen. Jackson is digging through the cereal box, for the toy, I'm sure. Dad has put away the guitar and is buttering his toast.

"Hey baby." My mom says putting away a few dishes into the cabinet.
Waving to her I take a seat. My dad smiles at me and pats my shoulder. "Sleep okay there bud?" He asks.

I nod and take a sip of a glass of orange juice on the table. I catch my mother's eye she frowns. "Say something, baby." She says looking sad. "How are you this mornin'?"

Biting down hard my mind whirls by. How am I?

Nervous!

Scared!

Where to begin?

"I-I'm f-f-" Slamming my hands on the table I grunt in frustration. My dad rubs my back in comfort.

"Susan," My dad whispers, the kitchen is quiet. Jackson has stopped searching for his toy and is now staring intently at his cereal bowl. "Let's not spoil the day, okay?"

My mother closes the cabinet door gently and nods. "But I'm already looking for a new speech therapist, Miley. I think you'll like this one." My mom walks around the counter and puts her arms around me, "It'll be alright, I just want to help."

I know she does, they all do. I just wish I was able to tell them how much it means to me, how much I love them. And how thankful I' am for all the hours my mom and dad spent sitting and practicing with me. All those days I came home in tears from the pain of not being able to speak like everyone else.

Calming down I wipe my eyes and turn to the window, it's such a beautiful day. The sun is out and the air is hot but the wind is cool, perfect summer weather. "Well come on! Let's see this town!" My dad cheers lightening the mood.

I love both my parents, but I've always been just a tad closer to my dad. The same goes for Jackson and mom. I can remember countless summer days back in Tennessee when I was little driving down the road with my dad in his old pick-up truck. We would roll the windows all the way down and turn the radio up loud.

Singing was the only way I could be normal. My voice never once slipped up while belting out a song. With the wind taking up my hair and my father's solid and thick laugh, nothing could touch me. Some days I can close my eyes and still feel the southern sun burning hot on my cheeks, back when I was just a little girl.

The streets are so busy. Now, I know this is to be expected in such a fast paced city but still. Every corner every turn there's cars, people, and dogs all moving and running with the beat of the day. The sun is blazing bright and stings my eyes as I gaze out the window of the car. I see a group rollerblading down the sidewalk, a happy family of three laughing and window shopping. There's so much commotion, so much to see, hear and taste it's all so over whelming.

Back home in Tennessee we lived in the smaller county, far from town where your neighbor was at least three to four miles away. I liked living in the country where I could escape to the woods, or lounge in the rolling hills barefoot. But here, it's loud and fast. Sitting back in my seat I hear car horns beep and distant chatter of strangers- yelling, laughing.

"We're here!" My dad cheers parking and popping the car door open. I step out and get a good look. The church is a medium size and a good rich brown. There are rows of flowers growing neatly along the sides, I wonder if I could help care for them? We walk the sidewalk up to the two front doors.

My dad holds the door open for my mom and they share a smile. As soon as I enter the building there's a blast of cool air on my face. Stepping aside I rub my arms and shiver.

"Welcome!" A man with brown hair and a sunburned face comes sprinting over with a friendly smile and hand wave. "Hello Stewart family! Ah, Robby it's great to see you again!"

My dad and the man shake hands and pat each other's shoulders, a very manly man welcome. "You too, Reverend Morrow." My dad grins, "This is my wife Susan, son Jackson and little girl Miley."

"Wonderful!" Reverend Morrow says clapping his hands, "I can't wait to meet you all! The church has been buzzing about with the news of you guys joining our community. My wife, Patricia, should be around here somewhere she's been just dying to meet your wife and daughter." Reverend Morrow looks to me.

Nervously I fiddle with my now clammy hands. My mother puts her arm around me, "Well, we are too." My mom says squeezing me close to her.

"Reverend Morrow?"

"Call me Harry, please Robby."

"Harry? I've been meaning to meet the Truscott clan; do you know where they are?" My dad asks.

"Aw, you just missed Greg and Sandra they were in here this morning but don't worry come Sunday you'll see them running around, oh, and there daughter Lilly, she's your age Miley." He replies.

My dad is soon pulled away from us into Reverend Morrow's office so they can discuss the up coming Sunday. My mother and Jackson walk off to discover more of the church and I search for the music room.

It's a two story building, the church; the first floor is the worship room, adult classes, and childcare. The second floor belongs to the teens called the youth room. The halls have a comforting silence to them. Walking slowly I lazily run my hand along the wall as I go. I like the way this place smells, like laundry detergent.

For the very first time since we moved, I'm enjoying myself. I find the music room on accident. The door is open and I peek in shyly, finding a grand piano dressed in classic black in the corner of the room. Seeing as no one is around I slide up to the beautiful instrument and take a seat on the bench.

Perching my hands above the ivory keys I take in a breath and run up one of my older scales, fast then slow. As I finish I find music sheets stacked on the top of the piano written in black pen. The notes are messily scribbled onto the page but I can read them well enough. Spreading them out, I start playing. The song is good, challenging and well composed.

I almost forgot how wonderful this feels, playing. After selling my old piano I've felt deprived of fine art. But it had to be done, after my dad quit money was tight and my mother's watercolor paintings don't exactly sell that well.

But here, ah, this is how life should always be, my fingers at their best dancing up and down the keys.

"You're good."

Jumping up in fright my hand flings to my chest, my heart pounding. A tall red haired woman is standing in the doorway smiling.

"You must be Miley, I'm Patricia Morrow." She holds out her hand. I clam my nervous which are still on edge. "Sorry I scared you honey." She rubs my back and smiles; it's a nice smile, reassuring and kind.

I shake my head and swallow hard. "I-It's o-o-ok-aay." I blush, my face heats up as realization washes over Mrs. Morrow's face. I hate this.

"Have you been playing long?" She asks, avoiding the obvious.

I nod.

"You know that piece you were playing? Lily Truscott wrote it. Have you met her yet?"

I shake my head.

"Oh, well you will soon, she's a darling girl, strange, but just darling."

I think I like Mrs. Morrow, she talks a lot- filling in the spaces so I don't have to. She smiles at me as I stack the papers back up in a neat pile.

"I met your mom, she's a great lady. Say, you two should come to our meet and greet lunch next week! I'm hosting it along with a few other ladies from the church. We have it every month just to catch up, maybe flip through the good word."

We walk out of the classroom, Mrs. Morrow talking and talking as I walk beside her just trying to breath and take it in. It's just really hit me, all the people I'm going to have to meet and worse talk too. Suddenly my heart jumps and hands clench together, I'm not ready.

My mother literary has to drag my dad away from the church. We were supposed to be out for lunch two hours ago. I can hear Jackson's stomach growling as I buckle my seatbelt. I giggle and he rolls his eyes at me, but he does so with a smile.

The move hasn't affected my older brother all that much. He was accepted to the local university last year and after summer he'll be off working towards his education degree; he wants to teach U.S History. Who knew my goofy brother would want to do something so profound?

The car comes to a halt. We arrive at a small café with outside seating. The restaurant is quant and painted a dark red. The bell dings as we walk inside; I suddenly feel very foreign and out of place.

We take a seat at the booth next to the great bay window. Across from the restaurant is a small park. Squinting my eyes against the harsh blazing sun I see a group of teens. They are circled around a girl who is hanging upside down off the monkey bars. What a dangerous stunt to pull. Her mouth is open and her eyes are closed. She seems to be laughing. There should be nothing funny about it. What if she fell? How can everyone just stand back without worry?

Her hair is long and hanging down in messy tangles. Her face is flushed, and her shirt rides up reveling much of her stomach. She is not phased at this she just swings up and around- jumping off her upside down position. I shake my head.

"Miles?"

I whip my head around slapping my dad's face with my hair. He smiles as I frown shyly in apology.

"See anything you like?" He asks gesturing to the menu. I take the plastic red colored menu in my hands and shrug. My mother says something about just ordering a giant pizza and I nod in approval as does the rest of the family.

I hear the bell on the glass door chime as it opens and a large group of laughing teens come stomping through. The girl who was dangling from the monkey bars is among them.

She strides with a confident flare to the front counter and shakes hands with the owner of the small restaurant.

"Lilly!" The manger smiles wrapping his arms around her, "It's so good to see you!"

She whispers something in the older man's ear and he chuckles and slaps her back good naturedly.

"I'll see what I can do!" He winks walking to the kitchen.

"Yo! Truscott!" A tall gawky boy with shaggy brown hair shouts from across the room. The girl's head turns and she rolls her eyes at the boy.

"Chill Oliver, lunch is on me." She grins skipping over to their table with a satisfied glint in her blue eyes.

Dumbfounded, I gawk at them. That is Lillian Truscott? The giving and prized daughter of Sandra Truscott. This is not what I was expecting, not that there is anything wrong with her it's just…

She's wearing black high top converse shoes, blue jeans with a self made hole in the knee area, and a light blue t-shirt with the fish symbol printed in the middle.

I watch her intently even after the food arrives. My eyes stayed glued to her. That girl, she wrote the beautiful piano piece? She is the well adored asset to the church? I watch her throw her head back and laugh wildly at something the brown haired boy said. The group of teens seems to be having a pleasant day, all with sunburned faces and loose t-shirts and jeans. I will never fit in here. Bowing my head I give out a sigh and turn back to the window to watch the people go about their daily routines.

……

Author's Note: So what'd you think? Please be honest and as always and forever leave your thoughts. (Psssst- Happy Valentine's Day, I do dislike this day but I do know of a certain someone who enjoys the flowers.)