A Year in the Life - January

“Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes,
Five hundred twenty-five thousand moments so dear.
Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes,
How do you measure, measure a year?
In daylights in sunsets, in midnights in cups of coffee?
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in stride?
In Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes,
How do you measure, a year in the life?”
-RENT

How do I explain this past year?  It certainly was different.  For starters, if last year hadn’t gone the way it, my plans for this evening probably would consist of sitting in the basement all alone, eating junk food, wearing a stupid hat, and banging pots and pans as I watch Dick Clark live from Time’s Square.  Thankfully, this year I’m not, but that is exactly what I was doing last year…

January
A Not-So-Happy New Year

“Happy New Year!” I shouted, but my tone made me sound mad, rather than glad about the new year.  Bugger, our playful but paranoid white and brown-blotched mutt, jumped off the couch and attempted to hide himself under the old beat-up pink armchair, whose floral embossing matched that of the couch I was laying on.  Poor Bugger ended up with his head beneath the chair and his bottom sticking out. We had adopted him the previous fall from an animal shelter.  Bugger is a mix, but definitely part basset hound.  His droopy ears and sad eyes give the impression that he was always worrying.  Which is close to the truth. Apparently he’d had some scarring experience before we adopted him because he gets scared when you make a noise any louder than blowing your nose.
“Ohhh, I’m sorry Bug!  Please come on out sweetie I didn’t mean to scare you,” I said in a baby voice.  I’ve always loved animals, especially dogs.  I gently lifted him back onto the couch with some difficulty.  He was making all thirty pounds of him very heavy. 
Anyway, I was feeling pretty low that night.  I was in our house, alone except for Bugger.  My dad was at one of those fancy new years’ parties.  You know, the ones where the hosts invite everyone they know and give unlimited martinis- making it obvious that they have more money than they knew what to do with.  Our family is used to dealing with these people.  Our hometown, Cedar Springs, is a vacation town, bordered on one side by Cook’s Lake and surrounded on all other sides by dense forest.  Of course, little springs run throughout the entire town, hence the name.
Cedar Springs buzzes in the summer, swelling to four times the winter population.  It’s filled with multi-million dollar “cottages.”  These are vacation homes for the wealthy people who visit over the summer or on winter breaks.  Now our family isn’t like that.  We are some of the few year-round residents.  We stay on through the winter, just to make sure the town doesn’t get wiped off the maps.  Half of the year-round folk are people who don’t stay long.  Some people come here hoping to “get away from it all.”  After a year or two, they usually realize that a life away isn’t for them.  The other people here are had families who lived in the area for generations.  Most of these people run the local stores or work at the nearby custom woodwork furniture workshop. 
Our family hasn’t lived here for too long, but we lasted much longer than most other newcomers.  My mom actually visited Cedar Springs each summer when she was a little girl.  Her family had been rather well off, but when her father died, they found that he had only spent money, and never saved.  They had to sell their Cedar Springs cottage to pay off debts.  But my mother vowed she would come back one day and live here until the day she died.  That is just what she did. 
When she and my father married, they got a deal on our house, an old Victorian. At the time, it was in sorry shape.  This was the only reason they had been able to afford it.  But together they fixed it up through their own work.  If we ever sold it now, it would probably be up there in price with some of the other “cottages.” 
My father doesn’t do fix-up work for a living, he is an architect.  It’s kind of ironic, really, since he always says the old homes are the best ones.  He is constantly complaining about the huge modern vacation homes that keep popping up in Cedar Springs.  He loves the old Victorians and quaint cottages that give Cedar Spring’s its character.  He likes to say he has “principles.”  He won’t just design any kind of house; he designs the kinds of houses that fit right in here in Cedar Springs. He’s known for making a traditional house function for a modern lifestyle and he sells his plans to people all over the country.  But what makes him most happy is when he sells a plan to someone who is going to build a house in Cedar Springs.
So my dad had worked with some bank-owner to custom design a vacation house for him and his family, and that was how he got invited to the hoity-toity New Year’s party. A few of the other “summer families” had come up for winter holidays as well and my dad was invited to their get-together.  I could just picture him in there with a bunch of guys who talking about their vacations in France and the Bahamas.  Dad would have to resort to reliving our camping experience at a centipede-infested campground.  I guess I had to feel a little sorry for him, but mostly I envied him.  At least he wasn’t stuck home alone.
My sister, Leah, was also at some party.  I’m sure, however, that her party was completely different than my dad’s. It would be safe to assume there would be one similarity between the parties-unlimited drinks. The party was most likely unsupervised, but Dad didn’t know that.  However, I was sure I would have to let the cat out of the bag sooner or later. I was sure that Dad, being an almost 50-year-old would not stay out later than Leah.  I really hoped she would stay out extra late.  Sure, that meant I would have to tell Dad where she was and that would cause Leah to get really mad at me, but that was a constant, it just came in different levels.  The upside was that my dad, would give her a lecture about how incredibly irresponsible she is, which is admittedly amusing to “overhear.” He’d surely throw in a few words about setting an example for me.  Well, she’s setting an example all right, I just see how screwed up she winds up and do the exact opposite. 
Have you gathered that Leah and I have our differences?  We share the same brown eyes, and same family, but I believe the similarities stop there. She has blonde hair, I have brown.  Leah is almost two years older, but only one grade ahead, a fact I used to shove in her face back when I was proud of being intelligent and when she was mildly ashamed of poor grades.  Now Leah is the family rebel who could care less about getting D’s. I’m the “good girl”, she’s the “bad girl.” She is a beautiful, blonde, who also happens to believe the world is out to get her.  She defies all rules.
Flip around 180 degrees and you have me.  I follow the rules that are set.  I am a perfectionist.  If I can’t do the work well I won’t attempt it unless required to.  I like to believe our different personalities are the reason Leah and I don’t get along.  In a small town, if you don’t get along with your family, you can turn out to be quite a loner.  Because many people who move to Cedar Springs don’t stay long, I’ve had friends come and go all throughout grade school, but no matter what, I’ve always had Kate.  Kate has been my best friend since the age of three.  On our first day of preschool she rescued me from Noah, a kid who took the Razzle-Dazzle Rose crayon right out of my chubby toddler hand. Kate solved the issue by giving Noah a good slap in the face.  And then we both made fun of Noah for even thinking about using a pink crayon.  Kate was from a family a family of six kids, six. The other five kids were all boys, and as it turns out, Noah was one of them - her twin.  As a member of this crazy family, Kate always knew how to defend herself and from then on, me as well. That first smack landed Kate in time out, but was also the beginning of our friendship.
Each New Years (and any vacation day for that matter) Kate and I were usually together, but this year she was in Florida with her family.  Warm, sun-shiny Florida, and I was stuck at home.  What kind of friend leaves me alone like this?  She couldn’t stay home alone, but she could have stayed at my house.  Okay, so if I were faced with choosing between Florida and my house I’m sure I wouldn’t stay in cold and stormy Cedar Springs.
So I was hopelessly alone for New Years and it really wasn’t anyone’s fault.  I settled into the couch pulling my ratty pink quilt up to my chin, bored as ever.  I took the clicker and turned down the volume a little.  I then flipped through channels.  There wasn’t much on, mostly New Years concerts, weird live broadcasts, and re-run marathons.  I paused on TV Land.  When the “Jingle for Goldfish” commercial was over I saw that “A Very Brady Marathon” was on.
“Well I guess this is as good as its gonna get Buggy,” I muttered to Bugger, “Shall we celebrate New Year’s with the perfect American family?” Bugger looked at me for a minute, and then sighed.  I heaved a sigh as well.  The TV always made me drowsy.  I fell asleep, dreaming I was a Brady kid, and my life was perfect.
*                              *                              *
“Eeeeeeekkkk” I yelled.
“Oooooo” Bugger howled.  I just awoke with a start and was staring Leah in the face.  Her hand was now clamped over my mouth.  She had apparently put her hand on my head in attempt to wake me up peacefully, so that I wouldn’t make noise.  That is something that cannot be done.  Whenever someone tries to wake me up a get really jumpy.  Most of the time I scream like rusty car breaks.
“Shh-hh,” she hushed anxiously to both me and Bugger, “where’s dad?”
“’E isn ‘ome?” I asked in a slurred just-woke-up voice.
“His cars not here,” she replied.  I glanced at the clock’s glowing red numbers.
“Bu’ its almost three in the moooornin,” I said with a yawn.
“I know,” she said looking sort of amazed.
“Maybe he went to look for you.”  I was beginning to wake up, and smell the liquor.  Leah had been drinking.
“Leah!” I squeaked suddenly.  “God, Dads gonna kill you.”  She just looked at me and started gulping and swishing tomato juice.  Just as she shoved a mint in her mouth, the door clicked.  I smirked and Leah shot me a don’t-squeal look.  I heard Dad’s footsteps on the stairs.
“Oh, Daddy, you’re home,” Leah said in a nervous, but sweet voice. “I’m sure you had a great time at your party, but it’s soooo late, why don’t you just go to bed.  Izzy and I will clean up.  We had such a great night didn’t we Izzy?”
“I’m sure you had fun.  I had a wonderful night too,” Dad said with a great grin.  He turned to go upstairs.
I was really confused.  Dad must have had one too many martinis.  He had stayed out much later than usual.  On top of that he didn’t realize that Leah was telling a lie.  He always can tell.
Leah looked at me in awe and happiness.
“Don’t say anything,” she commanded.  This was one of the few times she gotten anything past Dad.
“Alright,” I replied half-nodding.  Both she and I knew that if I told Dad now I would be under no pressure.  It would be a free decision and Leah would never let me hear the end of it.  Leah, too, went upstairs.
Seconds later I jumped as Dad shouted down the stairs “Oh, I forgot to tell you, happy New Year!” 
                   *                              *                              *
I awoke the next morning, surprised to be in the basement.  Last night’s events flowed back into my mind as if a dam had just broken.  I was feeling a little funny.  I was still puzzled, something wasn’t right.  I tried to brush away the funny feeling as I got up and stretched.  Bugger was long gone, probably outside continuing his endless quest to catch a squirrel.  My hair, although I had braided it, stuck out in odd directions.  I carefully removed the two hair bands and placed them around my wrist as I shook my thick hair. I cracked my wrists and neck while heading up the stairs.
I walked into the kitchen, hoping some food would help wake me up.  I scrounged around in the cupboard, hoping to find some Lucky Charms or Coco Puffs, anything with a bunch of sugar.  I remembered I had finished them yesterday.  The only remaining cereals were Shredded wheat and Special K.  Dad’s favorites.  I groaned and made a mental note to tell him we needed to go shopping.  I settled down with a bowl of boring, crunchy flakes and the sugar bowl.  Hey, I had to wake up some way, and dad is determined not to let me get hooked on coffee, as he and Leah are.  Just as I was dumping spoonfuls of sugar into my bowl, my dad appeared in the kitchen.  He still hadn’t lost his spunk from last night, which seemed to rule out the possibility that martinis had caused last night’s oddities.
“Bonne Matin ma Belle!” he said enthusiastically.  No, this was definitely no hangover.
“Morning,” I replied.
         “Happy New Year to you too,” he said looking slightly puzzled at my glum tone.
         “Sorry, I’m just sleepy,” I said maintaining my annoyed tone.
         “Out of Lucky Charms again, aren’t we?” he questioned, “well then, pour yourself some coffee, we’ve got lots of milk and sugar.”  He nodded at the milk I was about to pour on my cereal and the sugar bowl in front of me.
         I gave Dad a strange look, which he didn’t see, for at that moment, Leah walked into the room.  And I thought I looked like a zombie!
“Leah!  Good morning!” Dad exclaimed, looking for someone to share his chipper attitude with.  Perhaps he’d forgotten his own daughter’s personality.  Leah looked up at him with dead eyes.
“Happy New Year?” he said with a question.
“Hmm,” Leah replied grabbing a breakfast bar.  Dad looked from myself to Leah.
“Well, I have something that might cheer you up,” he spoke hopefully, “We’re going to dinner tonight.”
“Out?” Leah asked astonished, “with you?”
“Out?” I asked brightening a little.  Dad wasn’t much of a spender and it was an hour drive to a nice restaurant, but with dad in such a happy mood anything was possible.
“Well, if you mean to a restaurant no, but-“
And then I put two and two together.  Nikki. I groaned loudly, cutting him off and tossed my bowl into the sink.  I proceeded to exit the kitchen and head to my room and left Leah and dad in a stony silence.

                             *                              *                              *
         I dressed carefully that evening for “The Meeting” despite myself.  I had planned on wearing an old pair of sweats, even after Dad had informed me that attire for the evening should fall into the “Dressy Casual” category.  But even when I tried, I couldn’t be a rebel.  I found myself wearing my black skirt with the embossed flowers and my red sparkly Christmas sweater.  As I was clasping my charm bracelet I heard footsteps from down the hall.
         “Isabelle!!!!!!  Where is my straightener?”
         I opened my bedroom door.
         “Your straightener?  I do believe your straightener broke.  At which point you began to steal my straightener.”  Leah shot me a look.  I just stared back.
         “Just give it to me.”
         “No.”
         “Tell me where it is.”
         “I don’t know.”
         “Well find it.”
         “You find it, you want it.”
         “You’re already ready.” Silence.  “Izzy, do you want her to think you have a slob for a sister?” Leah almost screamed.
         “Why does it matter how your stupid hair looks, I don’t give a crap about this lady, do you?”
         Leah stood, not knowing what to say, and then walked off.  I won.
         In retrospect I realize I didn’t win because no one was a winner that night.  Obviously not Leah, nor myself, because from the second we heard about this dinner, we were confidant it would go badly.  Perhaps if we’d taken a more optimistic approach things would have been different.  But both Leah and I were hell-bend on disaster.  You see, we hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but feared sooner or later “The Meeting” would take place.
                             *                              *                              *
         I sat huddled in the back seat of the car on the way to Nikki’s house.  The heat took a long time to reach the back of the car and I was wearing a skirt.  And so I was frozen. Except for the occasional attempt at a conversation starter by Dad, the car was dead silent.
         We drove past the beautiful cottages, some of which were decorated festively with garland and twinkling lights.  The majority, however, seemed to be empty for the winter.  We slowed and pulled into the driveway of a house that fell into the latter category.  This house was huge and was in no way the kind of house that my dad would design.  In Cedar Spring’s the house’s bold columns and white exterior stuck out like a sore thumb.
         “Are you sure this is the right house?”  I asked.
         “I’m sure,” Dad said with a smile.
         “Maybe she packed up and left,” Leah grumbled.  I smiled to myself.
         “She’s here Leah,” Dad said, beginning to lose his temper.  He got out of the car.  I got out of the car.  Leah… did not get out of the car.  Dad tapped on the window.  Leah allowed him brief eye contact, in which she gave him a death stare.  Dad cleared his throat and walked up the sidewalk attempting to look dignified.  I stood glued to the pavement.  I wondered vaguely if my shoes could have frozen to the icy driveway in just a few seconds.  It certainly felt cold enough and my legs didn’t seem to want to move.  I looked up at my dad, slowly walking to the door.  I took one step toward him, then stepped backward.  I tried to make myself get back in the car.  I opened the door.  I opened my mouth and trying to gather the courage to tell Leah to drive us back home.
         “Leah, I can’t go in there by myself you have to come with me,” I blurted out instead.  She looked at me, shrugged, and finally nodded.
         Together we walked briskly up to the front door where my dad stood.  He waited until we were on the huge wrap-around porch to ring the doorbell.
         A millisecond later the door opened.
         “I think she was waiting for us right behind the door,” Leah whispered to me.  I stifled a giggle and examined at my shoes.
         “Hello Jordan!”  Nicole said with a smile and a southern drawl.
         “Nikki!”  Dad replied, giving Nicole a hug.
         “Come on in,” Nicole said, “you must be freezing.
         “We are,” Leah replied in a quiet but firm voice.  Dad cleared his throat.
         “Nikki, these are my daughters, Leah…” Nicole moved toward Leah in a hug-attempt and at the same time Leah leaned her upper body slightly backward.  Nicole blushed, getting the hint.  Dad’s face reddened too.
         Nicole turned to me.  “You must be Belle, or do you prefer Izzy?” she said in a sort of quavering voice.  This time Nicole made no movement, only a smile.  I didn’t smile back.  Instead I extended a hand.
         “Isabelle,” I corrected.  She would not be calling me Izzy or Belle, nicknames reserved for family and friends.  We stood in an awkward silence for a few seconds.  I stared and Nicole.  She was a petit woman, but stood almost as tall as Dad because she was wearing such high, designer heals. Her green dress was short, yet admittedly becoming on her.  Her hair was blonde, perhaps once naturally, but now almost certainly dyed, as her roots were a few shades darker than the rest of her hair.  Her eyes were undecided, both in their color, which was bluish-green and their expression, which was worried-embarrassed.  Dad tried to save the evening.
         “The food smells wonderful Nikki,” he said with a genuine smile.
         “Oh thank you sweetie,” she replied.  She grabbed his hand and excitedly led him to the kitchen.  Sweetie?  I thought I was going to be sick.
         Leah and I looked at each other and then around the entrance hall and into the living room.  While from the outside the house had looked uninhabited, the inside was a different story.  It was cluttered to say the least.  The bold wallpaper, lavish rugs, and golden chandeliers in the living room were a bit much for me to handle.  I slowly walked toward the kitchen and attached dining room.  Yet these rooms looked just as gaudy as the living room.  To make matters worse these rooms were filled with the smell of fish. 
         “-really sorry, they’re a little unsure, unstable, you know teenage girls-“ Dad, whose back was turned, was whispering apologetically to Nicole.  Unstable?  Did he want to ship us off to a shrink?
“Sit down, make yourselves comfortable,” Nicole said spotting me and then Leah who I noticed had absent-mindedly followed me.
I sat down.  Leah sat down.  The kitchen was silent.
“Don’t you girls love Nikki’s house?” dad asked, trying desperately to make conversation.
“It’s very, um, decorated.  On the inside.”  I spit out the words with slow effort.
“Oh well, that would be my Momma’s doing.  This house actually belonged to my momma and daddy.  When I was a little girl I’d visit this house every summer.  See we lived down in Tennessee and loved every minute of it but Lord was it hot there in the summer.  Daddy had the idea to get a little summer home up here so as to be cooler in the summer and just get away for a little rest.  We enjoyed every summer here, me and my sister and my brothers.  I have an older sister and brother, and a younger brother too.  My brothers still live down in Tennessee but my sister Susan moved on to Seattle. Can you believe it?  Seattle!  Rains most every day out of the year.  I don’t see why she up and moved there.  Well now, actually I do.  She met a man, and a good one too.  Would do anything for him, and I don’t blame her.  She’s as happy as a lark there in rainy Seattle with her husband and her two sons.  Guess it’s just all how you look at it.  They get all excited when it gets sunny, especially the boys.  They make an event of a sunny day out in Seattle.
“But anyway, you wanted to know about the house, not my sister.  This house has been in our family for generations, lots of summer homes around here are like that, but I guess you’d already know, wouldn’t you.  Seeing as you live here and all.  Well anyway I would have gone out and decorated the outside of the house for Christmas and all, but it is just so cold here in the winter.  This is my first time up here in the winter actually, I never knew it would be so cold.  See I was sick and tired of Tennessee, so I decided to up and move to the cottage for awhile, maybe a year or so.  My parents thought I was crazy to come here in the winter, but they said the house was mine if I’d like it.  So I came on up here.  And maybe I was crazy but I think it worked out.  And who knows, I just might stay here longer than a year.”
Leah and I kept throwing each other glances as Nicole buzzed about the kitchen.
“I’m sorry, I tend to talk when I’m nervous and well, I’m a little nervous.  So enough of my rambling, let’s eat.”
Because by the end of Nicole’s life story dinner was ready, we were seated at the table, and dinner had been dished out.  I started a stare down with the dish in front of me.
“Fish?”  I whispered and bit my lip.  Not that I hadn’t been expecting it, as the entire house smelled fishy from the moment we walked in.
“Shrimp gumbo, to be exact,” Nicole answered with a smile, “My family recipe.  Been in our family at least since my great-grandmother made it, probably longer.  She and my grandmother and my mamma could make it without a recipe, without measuring, probably with their eyes closed.  But me, I surely need to follow a recipe word for word.  I’d be lost otherwise.”
“Excellent,” Dad said after he finished his first mouthful.  “Girls you will love it.”  I looked at my father as if he was crazy.  Was he talking about me?  The child who would never touch a fish, even one deep-fried beyond recognition?  Me?  Eat fish?  Not in this lifetime.
I poked at the gumbo and stirred it around.  Did I even care if it looked like I ate it?  Not really.  I pushed the dish aside slightly and nibbled on some bread and salad.  I looked over and noticed that Leah hadn’t touched any of her food and was sitting with folded hands, staring at the clock.  Dad looked mortified.
“Now you girls eat like little bunnies,” Nicole laughed forcing a smile.
“Maybe you girls are coming down with that flu bug that’s been going around.  Your stomach was hurting earlier, wasn’t it?” Dad lied.  He was getting really desperate.
“Oh dear girls, I’m so sorry,” Nicole exclaimed, “I didn’t know you weren’t well.  We could have postponed our little get-together until you felt better.  Here, we’ll just wrap up some gumbo for you to take home.  Perhaps you can taste it when you’re up to it.  And for now, I do have some chocolate cake.  I know you might not want it, but I’ll cut you each a sliver and you can try it if you’d like.”  I couldn’t tell if Nicole really thought we were sick or if she was just going with what Dad had said for his sake.
I tasted the sliver of cake and it was honestly good.  Leah didn’t touch hers.
“The cake is good,” I said with a tiny, forced smile.  Nicole smiled a huge smile.
“Oh good I’m so glad you like it.  Another of my family recipes.  Might be able to show you how to make it some time, if you really like it.  And you can take home the rest of the cake!”  She was genuinely happy and rather bubbly over my lame compliment.  And though I quickly shrugged it off I felt the smallest bit of shame.
                   *                              *                              *
The car was silent for the whole ride home.  No conversation attempts, no music, just the soft hum of the engine.  I sat in the back with the cake on my lap, shivering.  It was when we got home that Dad finally blew up.
“That was one of the most embarrassing evenings of my life!”  We were in the garage and Dad was directing this comment at me! Little old me who never did anything wrong.
“Dad, can we go inside I’m cold,” I asked, avoiding eye contact.
“Not - until I’m done talking to you!  I can’t believe how rude you were.  I thought I brought you up better than that.  You hardly ate anything.”
“I don’t like seafood Dad, you know that.”
“You could have at least tried it, and you hardly said anything the whole evening.”
“I don’t like meeting new people, you know, and I did say I liked her cake.”
“Oh how very big of you Isabelle.”  Ooo sarcasm.
“Well, what do you expect I’m feeling sick. Cough cough.”
“Isabelle do you have any idea how horrible you made the both of us feel.”  I didn’t want to answer and he was getting quite angry.  I wanted to get out of that garage, out Dad’s way and into my warm bed.  Luckily, at this point, Leah was attempting to use her own keys to get into the house.
“And just where do you think you’re going Leah Michelle?”  Leah said nothing and put the keys in the lock and opened the door.  She nearly stepped in the house but dad put a hand on her shoulder.
“Your behavior was unacceptable.  Explain yourself.”  No answer.
“So you’ve taken a vow of silence?”  Dad asked.  Leah said nothing.  At this I slipped past the two of them and into the house.  Normally, I somewhat enjoyed hearing a fight between Dad and Leah.  But I didn’t want to hear a one-sided debate tonight.  I crept upstairs.  I pulled on my fuzzy pink winter pajamas and piled three extra blankets on my bed.  But I still didn’t fall asleep until the sun was rising.
                   *                              *                              *
“Leee-ahhhhh!” I yelled, “Come ON, we’re gonna be late!”  Like she cared.  It was the first day back to school after winter break.  School started in 14 minutes.  School was over fifteen minutes away. 
The last couple days of winter break, after the dinner incident, had been painful.  Painfully boring, because Kate still wasn’t home.  Painfully silent, because no one at my house were on speaking terms.  And just plain painful because I’d had a sinus headache for 48 hours.  Needless to say, I was a little cranky.
“LEAH!” I yelled again. She came stomping down the stairs in a huff, and was in a bad mood the entire drive to school.  It was 7:50 when we got in the car and school started at 8:00.  We were not going to get to Lakeshore County High School on time.  Lakeshore was a pretty big school by my standards.  You drive on a little two-lane road, surrounded by trees on both sides, then, bam! There’s this huge school in front of you.  Cedar Springs has its own itsy-bitsy combined elementary and middle school in town, but it and a bunch of other tiny schools from tiny towns feed into Lakeshore High school.  Lakeshore High School has about hundred people in each grade, which doesn’t sound like a lot, but compared to the twenty-five kids in my classes in Cedar Springs, it was huge.
The nice thing was, there were more people, more teachers, and more classes.  The bad thing was it was nearly twenty minutes away.
“Leah, I don’t want to be late, we can’t leave at this time tomorrow okay?”  I said softly, having calmed myself down.  Leah didn’t reply verbally, but she gunned it.
We pulled up to school at 7:58.
“We’re leaving at the same time tomorrow,” Leah called as I ran into school.
“We’re gonna get pulled over by the cops tomorrow,” I thought as I went through the school doors.
I slipped into my seat in first hour US History just as the bell rang.  I was still wearing my coat, as I had no time to go to my locker.  Kate, who sat next to me shook her head. 
“How was Florida?”  I whispered as Mr. Cook began to lecture.
“Good,” she replied, “the drive was crazy, Christmas was crazy, Disney world was crazy, but it was good.”  Of course it was all crazy, even a trip to the grocery store was crazy with the Harpers was crazy!
“I wanna go to Disney World!” I fake-whined.  Kate smiled.
“With my brothers?”
“Well, better than staying here.”
“That bad?”
“Well, if you had a cell phone you would already know about all this!”
“If my mom buys me one, she’ll have to buy one for Noah and Colton and Carter will probably beg for one too.  But you can tell me now.  What happened?”
“Well-“
         “Isabelle, is there a problem?”  Mr. Cook asked.
         “No…” I said, blushing, “I’ll tell you later,” I whispered to Kate.

         I didn’t get to talk to Kate about the dinner disaster until lunch, because the only other class we had together before lunch was AP Biology, and with only six kids in the class there was no way we could get away with talking.
         Kate and I sat in the cafeteria with Larken and Amy.  I was reluctant to tell the whole story now, in front of the others, because while we were friends, we’d only become friends last year.  They were best friends like Kate and I, and both lived a half-hour from school in the opposite direction of Cedar Springs.  Because of this, we only really saw each other at school.  I felt a little awkward spilling out the story in front of them, but after sharing my story they seemed pretty sympathetic.
         “Your dad can’t just expect you to like her, can he?” said Amy.
         “No,” agreed Larken, “and what you and Leah think of her should matter to your dad.  It doesn’t seem like he really cares.”
         “Now I don’t know about that…” Kate said slowly.
         Amy, Larken, and I were slightly taken aback.
         “I mean, I’m on your side Izzy,” Kate added, “your dad certainly should take into account what you guys think…”
         We dropped the subject there.
                             *                              *                              *
         The first two weeks of January were stressful.  Final exams were the second week after we got back, so the majority of the time I could be found sprawled out on the floor, swimming in the sea of notebooks, worksheets, and textbooks I was supposed to be studying from.  All the time I felt in a rush to be studying all the material we’d learned first semester, I didn’t think there would be enough time.  Twice I stayed up until I fell asleep at my desk. 
I was certainly bleary-eyed by the time the last exam finished.  I drove home with Kate, since she said I could spend the night over there.  All that week Kate and I had been together a lot, the topic of our conversations was about exams or how tired we were.  With exams over, I wasn’t really sure I wanted to talk to Kate.  I was sure she’d bring up my father’s love life.  I didn’t want to hear what she had to say about it.
We pulled up to Kate’s house, also an old Victorian, but even larger than my house, and rushed inside dodging snowflakes.  Walking into the Harper house was like walking into a tornado.  As Kate, Noah, Noah’s friend Nate, and I walked into the house we were greeted with screams.  Colton and Carter, the other set of Harper twins bounded over to greet us with the energy only six-year-old kids who had been cooped up in school for a week could muster.  Colton aimed a toy gun at Noah and Nate, and Carter gave all four of us over-enthusiastic and somewhat painful hugs around our waists.
The boys proceeded to tear around the living room making more dinosaur sounds and thumping footsteps than I thought possible for two kids, even Harper boys.  Then I realized that was true and there were actually four kids zooming around the house.  Apparently, they had brought friends home from school.  One of the friends began to jump on the couch, at which point a startled Austin sat bolt upright on the couch.  His dark hair was frazzled and he still wore his pajamas.  He slowly rose off the couch, zombie-like.  He briefly nodded at me before retreating upstairs.
“Yeah, he’s still here,” Kate informed me.  Austin was dubbed the Harper family slacker.  He’d squeaked his way though high school and, feeling that in itself had been enough work, decided not to go to college.  Kate’s parents weren’t happy, but they said so long as he got a job and paid rent, he could stay at home for awhile.  He still had no job.  He had promised he would apply to college the next year, but everyone doubted he’d go through with it.  And yet, Kate’s parents still hadn’t kicked him out of the house.
The pandemonium ensued for a few more minutes until Kate’s mom called “snack time” from the kitchen.  Even the zombie came back downstairs when he caught the scent of Mrs. Harper’s peanut butter cookies.  All ten people currently in the house were silent for all of three seconds.  By that time the cookies had vanished and everything went back to craziness.
“Let’s go upstairs,” Kate nodding her head at the running first-graders.
“Uhh, I donno…” I said quietly, rooting myself to the floor as Kate began to climb the strairs.
“Whaddaya mean?  We won’t be able to hear ourselves think with all the noise down here,” Kate replied with a grin.
She had a valid point, and in fact it was the reason I preferred to stay downstairs.  Kate, as the only girl, had her own room. But of course I didn’t want to go to her room.  I knew she’d been dying to talk to me about how I felt about Nicole, but I didn’t feel like sharing.  Kate and I were best friends, but for some reason we weren’t the type that had deep, important conversations in which we discussed our feelings and problems.  Sure we spent hours laughing at nothing, watching movies, and gossiping, but to be honest, having known each other for our whole lives we pretty much knew each other’s thoughts.  We shared the same opinion on most everything too.  So we didn’t have anything to have deep discussions about.  Until now.  I had a problem, and Kate didn’t know all that was going on inside my head.  And of the little we’d discussed, I knew our opinions on the matter were not the same.
“Kate, I’m just not feeling too well…” I lied.
Kate cocked her head slightly, slightly suspicious and trying to decide if I was telling the truth.
“You’re probably run-down from finals,” she said stiffly.
“Yeah, that must be it, um, maybe I should go home.”
“Um, alright. You want me to drive you?”
“It’s only four houses down Kate,” I said, forcing a smile.
“I know, but you’re sick.”
“Right, well, I think I’ll make it,” I spit out slowly.
“Ok… well feel better Izz, and I’ll talk to you later?” Kate said, forehead wrinkled and eyes concerned.
“Yeah,” I nodded as I walked out the door.

So we didn’t really talk later.  During the weekend I pretended I was sick.  Maybe I really was sick.  At any rate, I didn’t feel like doing anything and spent the weekend curled up with a book or in front of the TV.
I’d like to say that Kate and I worked things out quickly, but that wouldn’t be the truth.  School sucked, because Kate and I didn’t really talk.  We weren’t fuming mad and we never said anything mean.  We just didn’t talk.  Each day at lunch we sat with our friends trying to appear like everything was ok.  Kate would try to catch my eye, I tried to avoid hers.  When she succeeded at looking me in the eye, her own blue eyes looked gloomy and overcast.  My brown eyes jumped away from her face, quickly finding something else on which I could focus my attention.  So far, it was turning out to be a not-so-happy new year.