My Hope

Hope:

I watched the trees whip by as we drove along the highway toward our new home. I was full of anxious excitement. What would my life be like in this new place? Mom and Dad sat in the front, discussing everything from decorating the house to their new jobs. Even though I was leaving behind everything I knew, as well as a best friend, I was still optimistic that this was a positive step forward. One needed change in order to grow. New experiences made a fuller life. I kept telling myself that.

The concern my mind kept wandering back to was school. Would I make any good friends? Would people like me? Would I have the kind of deep and meaningful relationships I'd left back home? I truly hoped so. Mom always said that the world was full of friends you just hadn't met yet. I believed her wholeheartedly. She had moved away from her home at around my age. But she had been starting college. I was midway through my senior year of high school. It was going to be really awkward starting new in the middle of the year. Everyone had probably already established their group of friends. I'd be an outsider. But I would try my best to make the most of it. Because this was a good move for my parents. My dad was starting his dream job: mathematics professor at Harvard University in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

That was a long way from San Francisco, California.

It had been a long week. We'd stayed overnight in a couple of cities along the way, just to break up the monotony of driving. We were in the SUV while we towed Mom's car behind us. I'd sold my car before we left. It wasn't worth trying to drive it here. It was better if the three of us could take turns driving. It'd actually been pretty fun. We'd always loved family road trips. Although I usually brought my best friend, Sage. Thank goodness for FaceTime and social media. I was going to miss her like crazy.

Dad kept telling me we were almost there. I would believe it when we pulled up to our house. We started passing through a more residential neighborhood. The houses were beautiful. They looked old but nice. My mom called them historic. I could see the appeal. They had a sense of grandeur that our old neighborhood didn't possess. Mom said our house would need a little work, but not much. I was looking forward to it. Bringing back the original beauty of something could be therapeutic.

We finally pulled up to a white, two-story home. It had pillars holding up a beautiful front porch. It was amazing! I had never expected this. It looked like it had a fresh paint job too. Dad had really done good. He'd found this place on his own when he came out here to interview with the dean. He wouldn't show me a picture, saying that he wanted it to be a surprise.

"What do you think?" he asked proudly, a big grin on his face.

"Very impressive," Mom told him while hugging him around the waist.

"I love it, Dad. I'm proud of you! You actually have taste."

The three of us laughed as we entered the double doors. It was gorgeous inside. Hardwood floors, a spiral staircase, and a big chandelier hanging above us. It had a big open floorplan. I ran to the kitchen to have a look. I loved to cook, so the kitchen was usually my favorite part of any house. It did not disappoint. It was a huge gourmet kitchen with marble countertops. I could tell this place had been newly renovated. But they'd kept the charm that had been here many years ago when it was first built. I turned in a circle, looking at everything: double oven, warming drawer, wine fridge, six-burner range. I ran to my dad and gave him a big hug. "I love it!"

"This part is for you, baby. I knew this was the key to making you want to stay."

Mom laughed as she took it all in. "Honey, you outdid yourself. This place must have cost a fortune!"

"Not as much as our house in San Francisco. Property values are a little less here," he informed us. That was a relief. I would hate for Dad to break his neck trying to pay the mortgage. But I assumed he was getting a pretty good salary at the university. They told me not to worry about those things. But I was a worrier. It was what I did. I didn't want my parents to ever have to struggle to make sure I had nice things. That's why I didn't ask for much. I had bought a used car by myself with money I had earned. I was proud of that.

We looked around the rest of the downstairs and the backyard. It was open to the trees in the back. The lot was large, so we didn't really need to worry about privacy. The trees would take care of that too. It was so peaceful. Then we headed upstairs to see the bedrooms. Mom and Dad's was gorgeous, with a walk-in closet and en-suite bathroom. But I was really interested in mine.

"Go ahead, Hope. I know you're dying to see your room," Mom told me as I ran down the hall to check it out.

Wow! That was all I could think when I walked in. It was big. Twice the size of my old room. It faced the backyard and had a balcony overlooking the woods. Dad's voice startled me because I was in my own little world at that point.

"Gorgeous, isn't it? I knew as soon as I saw it that this would be the perfect room for you. It even has a little window seat for reading!" he announced. I looked next to the French doors and saw a bay window with the same view as the balcony. "It's perfect." I imagined doing my homework in the window, looking out as the sun set. Dad gave me a big bear hug as Mom started talking about how we should decorate.

After inspecting every inch of the new house, we decided to head out to eat. Our things would be arriving in a big moving van tomorrow. There wouldn't be any cooking until all the kitchen supplies arrived and we took a trip to the grocery store. We each had a suitcase of necessities for tonight. It felt like we were on vacation.

Dinner conversation was full of speculations about our new life in Cambridge. Dad was replacing a much older professor who'd had a heart attack a couple months ago. He would be starting mid-year, just like me. Mom would be joining the team at a hospital only ten minutes away. She was a psychologist, the same profession I hoped to get into. But I wanted to be a child psychologist. I loved children. And I hoped that I would be able to help any who needed it.

The long tiring day ended with us blowing up air mattresses and putting them in the living room like we were having a sleepover. That had been Mom's idea. Before I fell fast asleep, I thought again about starting school in a few days. The anxiety was still there, but excitement was right behind it now that we were actually here.

New Year's Eve was in two days. And then on Monday, I would be thrown into an unknown world. I had pretty much gone to school with the same kids my whole life. Sage had been my best friend since fourth grade. This was a huge change. A big, frightening, thrilling change.

Hope:

Monday morning came before I knew it. We spent the last few days unpacking our entire life. There were still a couple boxes here and there. But Mom was highly organized and kept us focused on getting things as normal as possible. I was glad she forced me to hang up all my clothes. I could easily see what I wanted to wear. I nice warm sweater. Perfect for the first week in January. I let my long curly hair hang loose down my back. It was light brown with some natural highlights.

Mom says I'm gorgeous. But that's what Moms are supposed to say. I think I look alright. Guys say they love my hazel eyes. But I assume that is just a pickup line. I'm a little taller than most girls at five foot nine and still growing. Mom says I have model height. I just feel slightly embarrassed that I am taller than some of the guys in my class. And I have a hard time finding dresses that go to my knees and pants that don't look like floods. But Sage says I am "blessed" with my looks. I don't believe her, but I stopped arguing with her about it years ago. I attract a lot of male attention and I don't like that. I have never really been interested in dating. I have goals and a career to think about.

My Mom was pregnant at 20 and had to leave college for a while to take care of me. She says it was the best thing she ever did but doesn't want me to sacrifice my dreams. I wonder if she ever felt that way. She has never even hinted at it. But I still wonder. According to her, I am her entire world, and she wouldn't trade me for anything. Is that just another thing that Moms are supposed to say?

I smell breakfast downstairs and head that way. Mom made all my favorites. French toast, crispy bacon, and over medium eggs. I usually make my own breakfast, but Mom will be working the late shift for a while. She doesn't go in until 1:00. This is a nice way to start my first day. "Thank you, Mom. You always know exactly what I need." I started devouring my food. I have been so hungry lately.

"I can take you to school."

"Thanks. It's weird not having my own car anymore."

I grab my bag and we head out. School is only a seven-minute drive. It's on the way to Dads job at Harvard. Hopefully, I will be accepted there next year if I can keep my grades up. I will be turning in my application soon. So, I better stay focused. We pull up to a high school that looks more like a college. Its massive. And amazingly beautiful. I guess it would be, as it is right around the corner from Harvard University. We registered online already. I just need to go to the office and pick up my schedule.

I am a little early. So, there aren't that many students around yet. I do get some subtle glances from people passing by. Thankfully, nothing mean. An older woman with glasses held by a gold chain sits at the front desk.

"I'm Hope Christianson and I am new here." I tell her with a smile.

"Welcome, Hope." She extends her hand for a shake. "I have your papers already here. This is a map of the campus; you will need it. And your schedule. Along with your locker number and combination." I look at the map of the huge school with a little trepidation. "Tyler here can show you to your locker and your first class." She points to a boy, shorter than me, who is filing papers. He pushes up his glasses and stares at me. His cheeks turn a rosy pink. "Oh, ok, sure." He stutters out as he looks at my schedule.

He first shows me to my locker which I open using the code I was given. After establishing that it works, we head to my first class. Trigonometry. He leaves me there at the door with a little shy wave. I go inside and greet my new teacher. He is about 70 years old with messy white hair like Einstein. Maybe it's a look he's going for. I tell him my name, and he hands me a heavy book and tells me to go ahead and take a seat in the front. I hesitate because I don't like the idea of everyone staring at the back of my head. I reluctantly sit as I look through the book. It's pretty much the same stuff we were learning back in California thankfully.

The room fills with students, and I get a lot of stares. I am sure they are surprised by a new student in January. After the bell rings and the class settles down, the teacher announces my presence. I want to sink down under the desk. "We have a new student. Miss Hope Christianson. Please give her a warm welcome." I hear a few hellos and mumbles. And then the torture is over. I'm glad he didn't make me say something about myself. That would be so embarrassing. The guy next to me gives me a big smile and a wink. What does that wink even mean? I just smile back and then face forward.

After class, I take out my map and schedule. Wink guy offers to show me to my next class. I take the offer since I have no idea where I am going. This school is massive. "You need to head to the other wing." He points at the map that shows four distinctive wings with a multipurpose room in the center. He places his hand on my lower back as we walk. I don't feel comfortable with that. So, I speed up just a little to get out of his reach. He takes the hint and removes his hand. "I can come back here at the end of class and show you to your next if you would like." He offers.

"Thank you, but I should probably try to figure it out on my own."

"Oh, okay, Hope. I'll see you around I guess." He waves as he turns and goes on to his own class. Wink guy was nice, but I don't want to give him the wrong impression. I am not interested.

I enter my English class with high hopes. I love reading and I love English. I hope I like the teacher. That makes a big difference for me. A good teacher can change the way you think. I go to the desk in front. Someone is leaning over a big box on the floor. He turns around with the box in his arms. We make eye contact. My breath hitches. His blue eyes meet mine and I forget where I am. I just stare at him. Neither of us saying a word. Then he takes a big breath. I take a big breath. He smells amazing. What the heck? Since when do I sniff people? This guy must have the most amazing cologne ever. He's still staring, I'm still staring. I hear someone clear their throat behind me. It snaps me out of whatever that was. "I'm new here." I suddenly blurt. He points to the guy behind me.

"Why don't you let Zade show you to your seat?" he suggests. I take the hint that it's time to sit down and start class.

Zade pulls out a chair and I sit next to a guy who looks exactly like him. Twins! Zade sits on my left side, his twin to my right. I look between the two of them. They are both smiling. I face front to see what the gorgeous man, I mean, my teacher is doing. He is staring at me. When our eyes meet again, he turns around and faces the board. He runs his hands through his dark curly hair. Then puts his hands on his hips. I hear him take a long breath. The bell rings. Then he turns as if nothing happened and begins class.

"We have a new student. Could you stand and tell us your name and where you are from?" He asks, looking at me. I hesitantly stand.

"My name is Hope, and I just moved here from San Francisco, California." I say as I start to sit down.

But he interrupts my motion by adding, "tell us something about yourself. What brings you here and what do you like to do?" I hesitate again. I hate being in the spotlight.

"Well, my dad just transferred here, and I like to do a lot of things. Reading, cooking, music. But I am most interested in psychology. That is what I plan to major in next year." I quickly sit before he can ask another question.

"Thank you, Hope. Everyone make sure to make her feel comfortable on her first day, alright?" He adds.

"My name is Mr. Kingston, by the way. We will be starting a new book today." He turns to the big box and opens it. He begins passing out books. I look at the cover and smile. The Great Gatsby. One of my favorites. "Have you read it?" he asks when he pauses at my desk. I just nod while looking into his eyes again. I could gaze into their blue depths for hours. Why am I suddenly getting poetic? He smiles and moves on to hand out books to the guys on either side of me.

I honestly can say that I have no idea what happened through the rest of class. All I got out of it was Mr. Kingston has a nice deep voice. Mr. Kingston is very tall, maybe six foot four. Mr. Kingston has the most beautiful smile and perfectly straight white teeth. Mr. Kingston has one dimple and a really sharp jawline. Mr. Kingston has some stubble and probably didn't shave this morning. I need to stop, this is ridiculous. Concentrate Hope! Mr. Kingston has very wide shoulders and is wearing low slung jeans. Those are nice. Ugh! The bell rings and I didn't notice that time had actually passed. I look around the room in a bit of a daze.

Students are leaving. I'm still sitting. Zade asks me something.

"I'm sorry, what?" I ask a little confused.

"I said, my brother and I can walk you to your next class." I notice my schedule is in his hands. I must have given it to him while I was in my Mr. Kingston daze.

"Oh, sure, I mean, yes, please." I manage to sputter. He laughs slightly and smiles. He looks at Mr. Kingston and gives him a nod. So does his twin brother. As I am exiting the room, I take one look back at him. He's looking at me too. I take another deep breath. I may not get to smell him again until tomorrow. Oh my God, I think I'm crazy.