The sun. The sand. The beach. California. My one true home. Even if it's on the other side of the country. How could someone ever do this to a teenage girl, in her senior year, in the middle of August?
My parents, who were recently divorced, decided that it was best for me and my younger brother and sister to spend the school year with our father. In Maine. The other side of the country. And most importantly, in the cold. Growing up in California it doesn’t exactly snow in the heat of January. This is honestly the worst thing that they’ve ever asked me to do. So right now, I’m sitting on this dreaded plane, awaiting my awful senior year in this frozen wasteland.
The plane ride seemed to drag on and on. Babies were screaming, people were yelling across the aisle and my sister had fallen asleep on my leg, creating a nasty pile of drool under her mouth. My brother sat on my left, next to the window, our only source of light.
As the states pass under us at snail speed, I think back to when my parents were still together, almost two years ago now. It was obvious that they were going to divorce through the constant fights at midnight. Yet I wished they hadn’t, if not for me than for my little sister Mickayla, who was only five when our father moved to Maine. She asks me questions that I can’t answer because she remembers nothing of him. Jackson is eleven and wants nothing to do with him. He doesn’t even call him dad, instead using his real name Mason. Then there’s me. As a junior I was the top in my class and the most popular girl in school. I’m dreading going to Augusta High School, with new people and more stress.
As I daydreamed about what my past life we had apparently arrived at my future. I hadn’t realized we were already landed. I made sure that I stayed in California as long as I could. We were the last to stand up, the last to take our carry-ons out of the overhead compartment, and the last off the plane. Mickayla pulled on my hand towards the exit however I had to practically drag Jackson down the terminal. At baggage claim I waited to see my sister’s neon pink Barbie suitcase come around on the conveyer belt. A small part of me wanted to take the suitcases and buy three one way tickets to California. But that annoying voice in my head told me to keep heading the other way.
Going outside I can see him. Jackson starts to walk back inside with a huff, but I grab his Batman shirt and turn him around. Standing across the road was a man with dark brown hair and the same green eyes as me. In his hands was a large neon yellow poster that read “Welcome to Maine, Kennedy, Jackson and Mickayla!” I rolled my eyes at my father’s disturbing sight. Mickayla tries to drag me over to him but I remain planted on the dirty sidewalk. “Come on Kennedy! Daddy’s right over there!” she squealed. “Yeah, I know” I reply. Slowly, in a line, we walk over to my father. Mickayla dragging me, and me dragging Jackson.
“You’ve grown so much!” my father laughs as Mickayla runs into his arms. Under my breathe I reply “That’s what happens when you’re gone for two years.” He looks at me with a slight glare but doesn’t comment. He picks Mickayla up and we walk to his brand new silver Ford Mustang. I stare in awe for a brief second then continue walking. My father moved to Maine for his job, which apparently has served him well. “Nice huh?” he laughed. “Wait till you see the house.”
As we pull up to my father’s house I’m shocked. A three story mansion loomed over us. “This is your house?” Jackson asked, finally looking up from his phone. “I’ve saved you each a room and a bathroom. I’ll have my decorators come in this afternoon to see how you’d like them done.” Mickayla is jumping with joy in the back seat. I can’t help but notice the cold. There had been an icy breeze the entire time I stepped out of the airport. At that moment I knew I needed heat back in my life. “California” I mumbled to myself. If I can’t have the real beach, this is as close as I’ll get.
“You’re not going to make us dinner?” Jackson asked. “Don’t you have people to do that for you?” I scoffed. “This is the cook’s day off. And the day I usually order take out. How’s pizza sound?” My father says. I roll my eyes. “Mom doesn’t like us eating fast food. That includes pizza.” Jackson retorts. “So? I’m not your mother am I?”
Twenty minutes later the pizza showed up. I paid the man and scrunched my nose at the smell of grease. I’ve had pizza before but only homemade pizza. I watch as my siblings devour two slices while I stare at my first. “Lighten up Kennedy. It’s actually not bad.” Jackson says with his mouth full. “Mom doesn’t want us eating this.” I say moving the pizza slice to my mouth. “Mommy isn’t here.” Mickayla giggled. I took a small bite while they watched carefully. “It’s not amazing.” What was I kidding. This was like heaven on a plate. My father laughed. “I know it is. See what your mother kept you from.” My face turned as red as the pizza sauce. “I said that out loud?”
After a week of living in Maine, I’m starting high school. I’ve not attempted to make any friends what so ever. At the house, it’s not home, things have gotten slightly better. I’ve had pizza and so many exotic foods that Chef Marco makes us eat, which never would have been offered in California. My room is a perfect replica of California’s beaches, except without the heat. Its only 65 degrees, how can people live like this? It might as well be the North Pole.
Walking up the enormous steps to Augusta High School, my hands started fiddling with my sweater, a nervous habit. Everyone stares at me, which I’m used to but this wasn’t a good stare. This was the new girl stare. I know because I used to stare at new girls the same way back in California. This is going to be a long day.
I walked into my first class, math, and sat in the back which I was used to. Except this time, my friends didn’t surround the seats around me. People were having conversations about their summer vacations and where they went. I realized that they must all be rich because some of the vacations mentioned were the Hamptons, cruises, Europe, South America, and so many more extravagant trips. I listened and felt so out of place. Maine is the farthest I’ve been from home in years. My mother made enough money, but not enough to go to Europe.
“Crazy right?” A blonde girl sat as she sat in front of me. “Excuse me?” “Their stories, I would never have enough money to do any of that.” She offered a friendly smile. “I’m Sarah, what’s your name?” I smiled back “Kennedy.” “Did you just move here?” she asked. “Is it that obvious?” I laughed. “Only because I just moved from Texas.” She laughed with me. I don’t know how, but I think I just made a new friend.
The days dragged on to weeks then to months and finally my favorite day of the year. Christmas. However I was not prepared for Mickayla to wake me up at 7:45. “KENNEDY WAKE UP IT’S CHRISTMAS! WAKE UP!” I groaned and followed her into one of the many living rooms in the mansion.
There’s hundreds of boxes under the tree, some from my mom and most from my dad. After hours of squealing and thank you’s I finally was allowed to open my mom’s present. I opened the small purple box and inside was a letter that said “Dear Kennedy, Your father told me this would be a good present. I miss you so much and California misses you too! Love Mom” looking under the letter was a necklace in the shape of a sand dollar. Inside was powdery white sand. “I know you aren’t adjusting well to Maine and the cold so I figured since I can’t take you to California I could send California to you.” He offered a weak smile as I held the necklace in my hand. I felt the tears stinging in my eyes, and that’s the first time I’ve hugged my father in almost two years.
Life seemed to get easier after that day. Sarah and I are now best friends. Whenever we miss the heat of our homes, we go to my room and turn on the heat, making it feel almost like home. I received the top in my class and now I’m planning to go to the University of Maine. Whenever I missed my home in California I would close my eyes and hold the necklace. Imagining myself on the beach where the sand came from. But recently, those images haven’t been needed as often.
I went back to visit California over the summer. However, it wasn’t as I remembered it. It was really, really hot and extremely crowded. I longed to return to my home in Maine, my new home. Where my father, brother and sister are. Where it’s always cold and the snow is beautiful. Where my new friends live and where my high school diploma is from. The one I had grown accustomed to with the help of the simplest necklace and friends who know what I’ve been through. Even if I swore I wasn’t going to like it, Maine is now my home, and I couldn’t be happier.