Pit-plat. Pit-plat. Pit-plat. The rain splattered across the windshield, condensing into tiny droplets before being quickly swept away into the roaring traffic behind. Inside the car there sat a man driving and a young girl staring out the window.

Tap-tap. Tap-tap. Tap-tap.

“Would you stop doing that?” The man said sharply.
The young girl jolted. “What?”
“I said, would you stop doing that.”
“Oh,” said the girl.
The girl returned to gazing out the window.

“Hey. This new school. Is it the same?” asked the girl.

The man, looking ahead, did not say anything.

“I asked if this new school is going to be the same.” The girl hesitated for a split second, “Father.”

Still looking forward, the father replied, “It might be a little different.”

“Huh,” said the girl.

In the window, the colors of the objects they passed blurred and mixed, the drops of water distorting everything.

One house. Two house. Three house. At the fourth house, the car abruptly swerved, nearly missing the driveway that hid behind the thick hedge. The fourth house was nothing particularly special. Like the house before it, the bricks were a brownish color, worn down from the continuous rain in the area. It was a big house, no doubt about it, and there was a stately feel to how it cast a shadow on everything around it, from the rose bushes to the garage driveway. The girl climbed out of the car and followed the stone pathway to the front door. There she knocked a few times. No answer. She rang the doorbell. Still no answer. Sighing, she dug her new key from her pocket and unlocked the door. Inside, she went into the kitchen where she turned on all the lights downstairs.

Crash. The girl spun around just in time to see the father, burdened with bags, trip on the hem of the doormat. She went over and picked up the suitcase she recognized to be hers, and headed upstairs. At the top of the staircase, she paused,
“Where is my uniform?”
The man picked himself up and, not bothering to meet her eyes, said,
“There is no uniform.”

“Excuse me?” asked the girl.

“Starting tomorrow, you will be attending Rockwood Public High School. There is no uniform.”

“You said it would be the same,” she accused.

“No, I said it will be a little different. We are only staying here for a week. There was no need for me to sign you up for a private school. Besides, a little change in environment is good for you.”

The girl made an exasperated noise. “And you never told me this. You never tell me things until it’s too late.”

With that, she went into her room and slammed the door. The father sighed and followed her upstairs. When he reached her room, he slowly opened the door. The girl was lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling.

“Go to sleep,” ordered the father.

The girl gave no sign that she heard. Sighing, the father closed the door shut. The girl gave an involuntary jerk when she heard the door creak closed, but did not move from her position. Soon, she fell asleep.

The next day, the girl woke up. She got dressed, and without bothering to eat, went to her bus stop. When the bus came, she filed in line behind the rest of the kids. She chose an unoccupied seat in the far back left corner and gazed out the window. The entire bus ride lasted some fifteen minutes. When she got to school, she headed toward the main office to get her schedule. She entered the door and walked up to the first desk she saw.

“Nicole Lennox” the girl paused, “Seong.”

“Ah, you’re the new transfer student,” said the secretary behind her computer. “Wait here while I go print out your schedule.”

“M-hm,” murmured the girl.
She sat down on one of the couches in the waiting area and stared absentmindedly out of the glass windows to see students rushing up and down the hallways.

“Ms. Seong. Ms. Seong!”
The girl started, it was the secretary from before.

“I have your schedule here; do you need me to show you to where your classes are?”
“No need,” replied the girl, “I can figure it out myself.”

“Well, I hope you have fun at Rockwood High!” chirped the secretary.

The girl stared at the lady. Did she not know that I was only staying for one week? No, impossible, the girl thought. Father probably gave them a heads up. But then, why the heck is that woman so cheery? How. Fake.

The girl smiled sweetly at the secretary before exiting the office.

She headed upstairs to her first class, which according to her schedule, was calculus. She stopped in front of a room labeled AP Calculus 205. She rechecked her schedule. Sure enough, it said “AP Calculus Room 205 M. Jones.” She walked in and went straight to the teacher’s desk.

“Hello, Ms.” She checked the schedule once again, “Jones. My name is Nicole Lennox. I am the new student here.”

“Oh yes, I have been expecting you,” said a pretty blonde lady from behind the desk. “Here take a seat, more people will be coming in soon.”

The girl chose a seat in the far back left. She dropped her backpack on the floor. Right next to her was a big, glass window. She peered outside, the clear skies from before had darkened into a cloudy gray. The colors were changing ever so slightly. Light blue to pale gray, gray to murky brown, brown to black…

“Nicole. Nicole.”
The girl jerked back. She saw that the teacher was staring at her.

“Nicole, can you please stand up so that the class can know who you are?”
The girl stood up and smiled. Then she quickly sat down again.

“Well, if you guys have any free time, show her around the school. Now turn to page 123. We will be learning about derivatives today…”

By that time, the girl had already turned back toward the window.

The girl passed through her next classes in daze. Each new class period was the same old routine: introduction, nice words, and occasionally the assignment of a “friend.” The girl laughed at the absurdity of it all. She was only staying for a week and yet people were trying to get close to her. Did they not know that nothing will last? In a few days, they will forget. Or the relationship will fall apart when gradually there is nothing to talk about. Well, she knows better now. If she befriends anyone, in the end her new friends will just go back to their daily lives, the ones they knew before meeting her a week ago. She will be the only one inevitably hurt by the friendship. It is really better, she decided, to make no friends at all.

When the girl arrived home, she went straight to her room. After a few hours of doing her homework, she got up and stretched. Drip-drip-drip-drip. She looked out the window. It had begun pouring and she did not even notice. Repositioning her armchair so that she could see better, she absentmindedly gazed out of the window. At least Nature lasts forever. Repeating and repeating its cycles. It will stay the same no matter where I am.

The father came home late that evening. When he arrived, he went upstairs to check on his daughter. He opened the door to find the girl fast asleep in her arm chair, next to the open window. He sighed and closed her door.

The next few days washed by. Day after day, the girl went to school, came back, fell asleep as if she were in a never-ending cycle. Pretty soon, it was Friday, moving day. When the girl came home from school that afternoon, she went straight to her room. She did not bother to take out her homework. Instead, she sat in her arm chair and stared out the window. Outside, the birds were chirping away, muted through the glass. Creak---Slam. The door downstairs busted open. Sighing once again, the girl picked herself up and went downstairs. At the bottom, she passed her father without so much of a second glance.

The girl walked to the kitchen. On her way there, she stopped to examine a ceramic cup.

“When do we head out?” she asked, twisting the cup in her hands.

“In fifteen minutes,” the father answered, looking hard at his daughter. “Don’t you want to say good-bye to your friends?”
The girl laughed. It was a hollow laugh.
“I did not bother to make any.”

“Why?” Demanded the father of his daughter.

“Because there was no reason to.”
She deliberated for a second before asking,
“Where’s Mom?”
The father quickly looked away. He wouldn’t meet her eyes.
“She’s busy finishing things up in L.A.. You know how her work is. She’ll join us in Maryland.”
“She was supposed to come on Monday before us. She promised.”
“Did you honestly expect her to come that early?” Asked the father. “You know that she’s always busy. Besides, she can’t just drop everything and leave.”
“And I can?”
The father looked at her and said, “You’re young”
The girl laughed.

“She’ll come with us to Maryland? And just how long is she planning to stay before leaving again?”
The father did not answer. The girl laughed again, this time sounding bitter.

“Why does she even bother coming?”

She set the cup back down on the countertop, where it sat balanced precariously over the edge. She then walked upstairs to her closet and took out her traveling bag, which was still closed with the travel ticket around it. She walked downstairs and out the front door into the car. She sat in her usual seat in the far back left corner. After a few minutes, her father entered the car, and started up the engine. He backed out of the drive way just as small droplets of water began to drip on the windshield. Pit-plat. Pit-plat. Pit-plat.