I unpack my last box in my room.
My room......Not really, not yet. We just moved here two days ago, my mom and me. It doesn't feel like home. Home is California. Ocean, beach, sun. Now we're in Montana. Montana.
Why is my mom doing this to me?
I know she's not happy about it either, but I feel like I need to blame someone for my life falling apart.
Haven't I been through enough? My dad died six months ago in a car accident. I can't think about it though, I want to bawl every time. Apparently his finances weren't as good as my mom was made to believe and the bank took our house. It wasn't anything spectacular, but it was home.
My mom didn't have a job, she stayed at home and took care of my dad and me. She tried to find one, but nothing fell into place and the money ran out.
So now we've moved in with my grandparents, back to my mom's small hometown. She left when she was eighteen and headed to California, thinking she could be an actress. Yeah, it didn't work out. But she did meet my dad and five years later they were married and had me. They tried for more children, but that didn't happen either.
I slowly unpack my few belongings, we only took what we could fit in the car, and sold the rest. Mostly clothes and a few mementos are what we brought. I insisted on bringing my books too, my one solace, now my only friends. I was never popular in school. Too shy. But I did have a few people I kind of considered friends. At least we ate at the same table at lunch. I doubt they'll call me though, we were never that close.
"Sang! Come down for dinner!" my grandmother calls from the bottom of the stairs.
"I'll be right down!" I put a framed picture of my parents and me on the nightstand, gently brushing my dad's face with my finger, then go down the stairs.
*******************
We sit around the dining table, eating pot roast and veggies.
"Have you gotten all settled in your room dear?" my grandmother asks.
I push the mashed potatoes around on my plate. "Yeah, I think so. I didn't have much to put away."
"Well at least you have all that done before you start school tomorrow," she smiles.
I give her a small smile back. I don't really know my grandparents that well. They came to visit a few times over the years, but their relationship with my mother became strained when she took off. It's nice of them to take us in, though.
"It's a good school," my grandfather says. "You're a sophomore, right?"
"Junior," I correct.
"Ah, well, you'll make friends here. Everyone's friendly."
I nod in agreement, but it's not like I'd really know.
"Down the road is what I guess you'd call a boys' home of sorts. I think several of them are juniors, too."
"That's new," my mother says.
My grandfather dabs his lips with his napkin and sits back. "About a year ago, Mr. Taylor moved to town and reopened the diner that had closed. He's been very successful, too. He has two nephews and took in several other boys before he moved here, although two are really adults. They all moved in the old Edmond place. One of them works at Jed's fixing cars, another works with Dr. Walter. Guess he's some kind of genius and graduated medical school early. Some of them work at the diner, as well. Good boys. Stay out of trouble and keep to themselves. One's done great things for our football team. They mostly like to hike up in the forest and go camping."
He sits forward again and takes a bite.
"I'm sure you'll meet some of them tomorrow," he adds.
*****************
After dinner I go back upstairs and read for a while. I'm not really into the book tonight, so I sit at the window seat, looking out into the dark forest. The cool breeze comes through my open window, fluttering the lace curtains.
In the distance I hear a melancholy howl.
It's quiet for a moment and then I hear several in response.
The sound is both eerie and beautiful.
For the first time since we came here, I smile.