by Megan Sparks
Annie looked down at the human Sid Vicious on her shirt, then at the dog, and laughed – they were nothing alike. She handed the skater boy the lead with a grin. “I take it Sid’s yours, then?”
The boy took the dog’s lead and wrapped it around his hand. “Not that he knows it. Just got him yesterday from the pound. Only responds to food so far.”
Sid jerked his head up, gave the air a quick sniff, and seemed to decide that the yogurt-flavoured pavement was still his best bet. Annie laughed. “What does he like best?”
“Sid here doesn’t discriminate,” the skater said with a grin. “This morning he stole my mom’s toast and gulped it down like it was bacon.”
Sid had his nose in the air again. There was no yogurt left on the pavement to hold his attention. Further down the street, a little boy was walking with his dad, eating a big bag of crisps and leaving a trail of crumbs in his wake. Sid sniffed his next snack. The skater boy threw his board down and jumped on it just as Sid took off. The poor guy was nearly swept off his skateboard. Nearly. Instead, the board did some kind of flip and his feet landed squarely back on it.
“Thanks for your help,” he called over his shoulder. “You got some sweet moves. You should be a roller girl.”
“Pardon?” Annie asked. But the dog Sid Vicious and the cute skater boy were gone in a second.
Annie sighed and skated around the slobbery pavement to head back home. Her bum was sore and her hands were sticky. Annie decided that her American-culture crash course was over for the day.
Chapter Two
First day of school. First day at an American high school. Annie just hoped the teen dramas on TV were fictitious. They didn’t really put “kick me” signs on the new kids, did they? Pupils didn’t really turn into vampires, hopefully. Dad wouldn’t send her there if she’d be in any real danger, right?
Don’t think about that.
She got out of bed and stretched with her arms in the air, before folding over and resting her hands by her feet. Ooh, nice. She sat with her legs stretched out on either side on the faded pink carpet and leaned over her left leg. Ahh, that felt good. She leaned over to the other side and let out a big breath. Amazing how some simple stretches could relax her. Maybe because they had been such a huge part of her life.
Stretching and gymnastics were my whole life, Annie thought. For ten years, she had trained five days a week and had her meets at the weekends. Annie had loved it, especially the thrill of competing. She could see if there were any training studios nearby – maybe they’d let her work out on the equipment just to keep in shape. Could be fun. Or could just be depressing knowing that she couldn’t compete any more.
Maybe it was time for a change. To reinvent herself. New country, new interests, new life. Cheerleading, like Dad suggested. That could be fun. It’d be a change, if anything.
“Ann-nie,” Dad called in a high-pitched American southern accent. “Y’all best git down here before this here breakfast goes and gets cold, y’hear?”
“Be there jus’ as soon as I get mah duds on,” she said in a cowboy accent that was probably just as bad as her dad’s. Playing with accents had always been a favourite game of theirs. Good to know some things hadn’t changed. Though, remembering the cockney accent he did in front of Lexie and her mum, maybe change was good.
Her open suitcases were still spread over the room; Annie and her dad had spent yesterday shopping for restaurant supplies, school supplies, and everyday-life supplies. What did people wear to school here? She had always worn a uniform, but according to Dad, she could wear anything. Within reason, of course.
The first things she found were her old leotards. She had given away the ones that were too small before she left London, but couldn’t bring herself to get rid of all of them. It was always possible she’d find some use for them. Part of a fancy dress costume maybe, but definitely not for school. She tried on a T-shirt, skinny jeans, and her turquoise Converse – her “uniform” when she wasn’t at school or the gymnasium – but it wasn’t right. Not for the first day. Too scruffy.
“First impressions last forever,” Mum always said.
She found the yellow summer dress Mum bought her before she left and put it on with some white ballet flats. Big improvement. For one thing, the dress showed off her long legs and if the sun kept shining, maybe her legs would soon be tanned, as well as long.
In the kitchen, Dad had prepared a full English fry-up: bacon, eggs, sausages, tomatoes, and fried bread. The smell reminded Annie of everything she’d left behind: Mum, London, home.
Dad waved his hands at the food. “Eat, eat. You’re too skinny.”
Annie picked up a triangle of fried bread and dipped the end into the egg yolk. She nibbled on the corner. “It’s gorgeous, really. I just...”
Annie sighed, unable to eat much more with her stomach in knots. Dad kissed her on the top of her head.
“I know, Beanie. A lot has happened in a short amount of time and new schools are always scary. But it’ll be fine. I’ll take you to school. Go with you to the office. Just like I’ve done before on your other first days.”
Except the last time Annie started a new school she was eleven.
It was time to do it on her own. “Thanks, but I think I’d rather go by myself.”
Any other time Dad would have put on an accent and demanded whether he was not cool enough to be seen with his daughter. She loved that about him: he was funny and messed around a lot, but he always knew when she needed him to be serious.
“OK. You remember the way? We drove by it yesterday. And take your new cell, just in case you need to call.”
Annie smiled. “Now you’re sounding like Mum.”
“Surely not!” he said in Mum’s clipped tones.
Annie took a small bite of tomato and gathered her new bag, making sure she had her phone turned to silent in the front pocket.
At the door, Annie turned around. Her dad was watching her, a fork-speared sausage held in the air.
“I’ll come to Rosie Lee’s after school. And Dad, try not to burn the place down.” She smiled and left before Dad could think of a comeback.
Outside, any confidence she had faked disappeared. Maybe she should have let Dad take her. Hold her hand as they walked into the high school.
No, she could do this. Just like that time they mixed up the music for her floor routine, playing the theme tune to Chariots of Fire instead of the White Stripes’ “Seven Nation Army”. She did her routine anyway and placed second. She could go to school alone, and survive.
Up ahead, Annie caught sight of a familiar head of wild brown ringlets. Lexie. The other day she seemed nice. Was she really, or was that just because her mum was there?
“Lexie,” Annie called. Nothing. But there was a definite bob to Lexie’s head which implied listening to music. Jogging to catch up, Annie tapped Lexie on the shoulder.
Lexie turned and broke into a huge smile. “Hey, good to see you again.” She took the headphones out of her ears.
“Yes, likewise. I’m a bit nervous, though,” Annie said.
Lexie scrunched up her nose. “School’s not my favourite place either.”
“Is that why you were playing ‘Highway to Hell’?” Annie teased.
Lexie looked at her in surprise. “You like AC/DC?”
“I prefer more punk, but hard rock is good too.”
Lexie nodded her approval. “We really should hang out. C’mon, I’ll show you where to get your schedule.”
Annie let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. “Cheers. I love your clothes, by the way.”
Today Lexie had on a denim jacket covered in cool badges like “Be yourself, everyone else is taken” (Oscar Wilde) and “eARTh” over a green lacy shirt, long hot-pink skirt, and tan cowgirl boots. Tied around the base of her wild hair was a purple scarf.
“Thanks, I get them at thrift stores. Mom hates it. Says the clothes are dirty and only poor people buy there. She wishes I coul
d be a bit more preppy but I don’t like looking like everyone else.”
Annie nodded. The first time Mum saw her Sex Pistols T-shirt, she threatened to throw it in the bin. She smoothed out her new dress. “Do you think I look all right?”
“I think you look fine, but you should know, image is a huge thing at this school.”
Annie didn’t have time to ask what she meant. They were at school already.
A flashy red car zoomed right by them, turned the corner quickly, and screeched to a stop centimetres before crashing into the parked car in front of it. Its driver got out and locked the doors with the remote in his hands, making the car beep twice and its lights flash. Mum’s car did that too, but her Peugeot had never contained anyone that made Annie gasp for air.
“Is he for real?”
Lexie rolled her eyes. “I know, right? Just because he can drive he thinks he’s all hot.”
What Annie meant was whether he really existed. The only time she’d seen a guy that good looking in the flesh was when she and her friends went to the Abercrombie & Fitch store in London where they have live models walking around. This guy didn’t have to think he was hot, he was hot. Perfect blond hair fell across his forehead, making Annie long to brush it back. His light-blue shirt hung off broad shoulders, showing off his tanned, toned arms, and his jeans fit like they were custom-made for him.
Halfway to the school he took off his sunglasses. He was close enough for Annie to see his startlingly green eyes. Were they contact lenses? Surely that colour didn’t occur in nature.
She watched him as he trotted up the steps and high-fived a group standing by the doors. He’s obviously very popular, Annie thought. Must have loads of girls chasing him.
“C’mon, I’ll take you to the office and show you to your first class.” Lexie took her by the arm and led her away. Good thing too. Any more staring and she might start drooling.
She got her timetable and immediately showed it to Lexie. Back in England she would have been starting her GCSEs, studying subjects based on what career she wanted. Here it seemed they wanted her to know a little of everything.
Lexie’s eyes widened. “Wow, you’re in a lot of advanced classes.”
Annie shrugged. She never got poor marks but was hardly top of her class either. “British school system, I guess. We start younger, I think. Are you in any of my classes?”
“Are you kidding? I’m not really into school as long as I pass. As soon as I’m done here, I’m off to New York for art.”
Lexie pointed to Annie’s class and waved before heading to her own. Annie went through the door as if it were going to bite. She knew not to sit in the front, but the back was crowded with a group of kids, including, Annie groaned inside, Yogurt Girl from the other day. Kelsey or something. She slipped into a middle-row desk and wished for invisibility.
The English teacher, Ms Schwartz, was fiftyish with hennaed hair in various shades of brown and red with a few whisks of grey sticking straight out like television aerials. She wore a hemp blouse and canvas trousers. Annie had never had such a Bohemian-looking teacher.
“OK, class, I have two very exciting announcements. First we’re starting Dickens’s A Tale of Two Cities.” There was a loud moan from the class. Annie wasn’t worried; she’d read it last year. Hopefully she remembered it well enough not to have to read it again.
“And,” Ms Schwarz continued, “we have our very own Londoner with us this year, Annie Turner. Can you come up here, dear?”
Now Annie was worried. She heard whispers from the back of the room that sounded a bit like “yogurt” and “freak”. Why, oh why, did teachers always insist on humiliating their pupils? She slid out of her chair and shuffled up to the front. With a deep breath, she looked up and faced the class.
As she expected, Kelsey was giving her the evil eye, but what she hadn’t expected was to see the gorgeous guy from the car park. Unlike Kelsey, he seemed eager to hear what she had to say.
“Why don’t you tell us a bit about London? Last time I was there was just after Charles and Di got married. It must have changed so much since then,” Ms Schwartz said.
Yes, Annie was sure it had. Except she hadn’t even been born that decade so she couldn’t say what had changed. “What would you like to know?”
Immediately questions started flying and Ms Schwarz, enjoying the excitement, didn’t do anything to gain control.
Annie soon realized that what she wanted to say was quite different from what she actually said.
“Do you know the Queen?”
Yes, we have tea every fortnight. “No, but my mum’s met the Prime Minister.”
“Is it true the Scottish don’t wear anything under their kilts?”
Aye, so best stay clear if there’s a breeze. “I’ve never checked.”
“Do you drink tea like all the time?”
Course not. We stop to sleep. “We do like tea, yes, but we drink other stuff too, like fizzy drinks and squash.”
The sound the class made was a combination between “huh” and “eww”. Obviously “squash” didn’t translate well. She just hoped the American meaning wasn’t rude.
Annie was about to explain that squash was a concentrated fruit drink when Kelsey spoke up. There seemed to be no avoiding her. Or getting her in a better mood.
“Is granny chic, like, a really popular look in London?” Kelsey said, looking at Annie’s new dress with a smirk. A few other girls sniggered.
Before Annie could retort with a clever comeback (one she hadn’t thought up yet), Ms Schwarz spoke up.
“OK, that’s enough. Kelsey, let’s not be rude. Annie, you can sit down, thanks.”
Annie didn’t have to be told twice and rushed to her seat both embarrassed and upset. She liked her dress and she wasn’t going to stop liking it because someone insulted it. Especially someone like Kelsey.
When the bell rang, Annie gathered her things, wondering if she would be able to find her next class on her own. She noticed someone alongside her and blinked a couple of times. The gorgeous guy was there. Right next to her.
“Hey,” he said.
Talking to her.
“Hey,” Annie repeated, looking up into his green eyes. That seemed like a good response. She certainly didn’t know what else to say.
“I’m Tyler. You’re from London? That’s so cool. What class do you have next?”
Surprised and more than a bit confused, Annie looked at her timetable while her stomach performed back flips. Sure she was tall and some people said she looked kind of like a younger Kate Middleton, but gorgeous guys like Tyler didn’t normally talk to her. Still, she wasn’t going to question it. “American History. Room 183.”
“That’s on my way. I’ll take you there.”
“Thank you.” Was this really happening? Not only was this guy talking to her, he wanted to keep talking to her. She didn’t know what it meant, but it had to be good.
“Do you like soccer?” His smile was so dreamy Annie wished she could have a poster of him up on her bedroom wall. A floor-to-ceiling one.
Wait, he’s stopped smiling. Oh, right. He’s waiting for a response. What did he say?
“I don’t play soccer, but I do like watching it,” she said slowly, hoping that covered what he asked. It seemed to work; his smile returned.
“What do you think of Manchester United?”
Annie hesitated, though this time not because she was lost in dreamland. Football rivalries ran long and deep. Opposing fans often got into arguments – sometimes even fights. What she said about Man U could determine whether Tyler kept talking to her or ran away. “I saw them play against Chelsea once. My dad took me.”
Tyler stopped to look at her in awe. “No way! I’ve seen Chicago Fire play a couple times but that’s nothing compared to what you have across the pond. I catch your games on TV sometimes, or online.”
Annie smiled, glad Dad was more of a football than rugby fan. “It is nice to watch them live if you have
the chance.”
“Totally.” He stopped by a classroom and jerked his head at the door. “This is you. See you around.”
“Cheers – I mean thanks.” She smiled back and stared at him as he walked away. She was really starting to like American high school.
“Out of my way.” Kelsey knocked into her as she walked past.
Or maybe not.
Chapter Three
Annie’s knowledge of American History was limited to what she’d picked up from Dad and what Hollywood portrayed. Somehow she didn’t consider either source reliable. They were studying the American War of Independence, or the Revolutionary War as they called it over here. Annie knew almost nothing about it. There were other, much bigger wars to study in British history.
“Hope you Brits aren’t still sore about losing,” the teacher teased as he passed by Annie’s desk. Annie kept her head down and focused on taking notes.
Between Algebra and French, Annie realized she really needed a wee. She asked a couple of girls standing by their lockers. “Excuse me, could you tell me where the loo is, please?”
They looked at her as if she was from Mars. “The what?”
Annie blushed. “Sorry, the ladies’ room.”
A light seemed to turn on in their heads. One of the girls pointed. “Oh, sure. Just around the corner on the left.” But before Annie had even started in that direction, the girl turned to her friend. “Don’t you love her accent? It’s so cute.”
If only people would stop making such a fuss over her and the way she talked. At her old school, she had never stood out. She kind of liked it that way. Maybe Lexie could get her a badge that said, “I’ve got an English accent. Get over it.”
After French, Annie consulted her timetable again. Lunch. Brilliant. Half the day done and she was starving. Next time Dad made her a fry-up, she was not leaving it untouched.
“Where do I queue up?” Annie asked a heavy girl with a green chequered shirt, biker boots, and short spiked blondish-brownish hair.
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” the girl said, looking puzzled. She seemed sincere but Annie was tired of being different and decided to work it out herself instead of asking again. It wasn’t too hard. There was a queue for food, one for drinks, and a third to pay.
