I LEFT FOR THE AIRPORT AT 7:00 in the morning on April 7th. The plane was up in the air at about 10:30. My name's Laura, and I was moving from Chicago Illinois, to Calgary Alberta. Flying was never really my thing. Especially when traveling alone. Of course, I've only ever flown twice, and I was eight. I was going to Disneyland, but even, then I had a mentor to complain to. But now, I was all alone. At least I got a window seat. Too bad all I could see was the very, very big sky.
First, let me tell you how I got there. Back in Chicago, I didn't really have a life. I had no friends, no boyfriend, bad grades, and frankly, nothing to do. When my parents got divorced, my mom thought it would be better to go live with my grandparents in Calgary. She said I could start a new life there. Make some friends, get a boyfriend, study hard to do well inschool, and maybe get involved in some exrta curricular activities. It was very unlikely, but I was willing to go, just to get out of my parents' hair. They needed coping time. I don't really underdstand why I had no friends. I guess I'm descent looking. I have chocolate brown hair that almost meets my elbow. My eyes are blue, green, purple or gray, depending on how I'm feeling. My nose is fine, my ears are fine, I guess I'm just normal looking. But I guess that's the reason then. I was normal. No one wanted to hang out with someone who was normal.
The plane finally landed and I spotted my grandparents in the lobby with a sign saying 'Welcome to Calgay, Laura Bates'. Their homely smiles and wrinkled faces reminded me of the days when they used to live in Springfield, and we would go to their house on the holidays. The smell of cinnimon was always in presence, and Bugsby, the little Maltese who always brought so much energy to everything. Grandma refused to let him grow his hair too long. She said it made him look too girly, and he might get beat up by the other, bigger dogs. She was so senile.
We stepped outside, and to my suprise it was snowing. Snowing! In April!
"Uh, grandma," I pressed nervously.
"Yes Darling," she sang. Ringing out her beautiful, old lady voice.
"Why is it, you know, snowing?" I asked almost in a whisper.
"Oh Doll," she chickled, "That's Calgary weather for you, You have to be prepared for anything."
I thought back to what I brought in my suitcase. I got even more nervous.
"Um, I didn't bring a parka or anything though."
"That's okay, we'll go shopping, mean while, you can use one of my winter jackets," Grandma answered.
The thought of wearing one of my grandmother's coats to school didn't excactly appeal to me, but if it was the difference between freezing to death, I think I could deal.
In the car we passed the Calgary Tower. It was a lot smaller in person.
"That's a lot smaller then every one makes it out to be," I muttered.
We came to a stop in front of an old blue house. In the front, the roof kind of went up in a triangular point with window in the middle bordered by white shudders. Under the window was another little roof covering the porch. The scant white door was on the right, and to the left of the door were two brown, wicker chairs. The porch roof was supported by three white pillars. The whole house was surrounded by a neck high wired fence. Most likely to keep Bugsby from running away. But who I saw in the yard wasn't Bugsby, it was a black labrador puppy.
"Who's this?" I asked confused, "Where's Bigsby?"
"Oh hon," answered grandpa, "Bigsby got hit by a car back in December. This is Amy. Isn't she beautiful?"
"Sure," I murmered, hurrying in the house. I was still shocked by the news about Bigsby.
I was shown to my room which had yellow walls. Yellow! That room needed a major paint job. My blanket was orange with yellow flowers. At least it matched my walls. I quickly unpacked my clothes, smelling tacos from downstairs. I usually didn't had tacos for lunch, but yet again, this was my grandparents we're talking about.
While eating lunch, I asked, "So, when am I starting school? I mean, am I even registered or anything yet?"
To my suprise it was my grandpa who answered. "Oh yes, we signed you up for school as soon as we found out you were coming. You'll be starting tomorrow, so that means we have to buy all of your things today."
That suprised me. I knew my grandparents weren't exactly procrastinators, but I didn't think they were that on the ball either.
"So uh, what school will I be going to?" I asked, not really caring, but trying to keep up conversation.
"Creasent Hights," Grandma answered pleasently.
"Creasent H-", I couldn't finish. Creasent Hights was a performing arts school. That means lots of people and lots of drama.