So far, my family had taken the move pretty well. Henry hadn't looked up from his book since we moved to America, which was no different from any other day. Sarah was listening to her music like always, and James… Well, James was still too young to understand any of it. It's as if life was out to get me. First, I get a baby sister, then a baby brother, and then a second brother. For some reason, it seems like mom had all of this planned out. I was born eighteen years ago, Sarah was born when I was five, I was ten by the time Henry was born, and James is the youngest, at only three years old. She always said that five was her lucky number, and I guess she wasn't kidding.
How could anyone actually believe in that "lucky number" superstition? Superstitions are just excuses people made up because of unfortunate events. When I was thirteen, I broke seven mirrors, trying to juggle them, after I hit the table. Salt and pepper spilled all over the table. Do I have bad luck? Not in the slightest.
America is a lot more foreign than everyone said it would be. Maybe that's because I lived in the heart of London for eighteen years and then moved to rural Louisiana. Apparently, we moved at the "perfect time." Mom's job as a neurosurgeon transferred us two weeks after school had finished for the summer. Great to know they were thinking about us when they took our childhood away. None of us really thought much of the situation, though. We all expected to be moved, we just figured that mom would be the one to make the decision, not her work. She had been talking about how there wasn't much of a need for people with experience in the medical field, but America desperately needed more neurosurgeons. At least, that's what we were told.
School in America had just let out two days after we arrived in America. So far, we had seen the school twice. Once on the same day we got to our house, just so we could see what the school was like, and again once it let out, to see how many people were there. It didn't seem like there were too many people, but there may have been a lot of people that weren't there, since it was the last day of school. There were only about twenty or so buses, so there were probably somewhere around a thousand people, including those who drove themselves.
When we finally got back home, we continued to unpack the rest of our things and finished four boxes before someone knocked on the door. Whoever came up with the expression "so quiet you could hear a pin drop" wasn't kidding. In that split second, the room went from being too loud to hear a freight train passing through the backyard to being able to hear someone sneeze in Texas.
We all looked around, wondering who was going to open the door. Slowly, we made our way to the window next to the door, not risking a glance out of it. We were wary of anyone who could've been knocking, as we had a few incidents with random people showing up at our door back in London. We could hear voices talking to each other outside, which we could tell were obviously female, but didn't recognize them.
"I don't think they're here." a teenage-sounding female began. "Two cars are here, though. Do you think they have three cars?"
"They might." said an older woman's voice, which I assumed was the mother. "That one boy looked like he was about eighteen or nineteen. He might have one too."
I rolled my eyes, but couldn't fully suppress my smile at this assumption. Hearing someone say this about me was typical. My physique and demeanor made me seem like I was older than I actually was. As everyone there exchanged glances, we came to the conclusion that they were probably just our neighbors, most likely wanting to see who we were and what kind of neighbors they would have, meaning we were safe. For the moment, at least.
Everyone except my mother quickly, yet quietly, went back to where we were before, as my mother began to open the door. After the door was fully open, we all noticed that the mother was about to knock again, and was more than a little startled when she had to stop her hand before she accidentally punched my mother. Apparently, the girl beside her thought this was embarrassing, because her face turned pink, and she started to back up. Not quite realizing how small our porch was, she almost fell off, but her mother caught her by the arm right before she slipped.
By then, we were all at the door while our two neighbors were still on the porch, but no one in our family was speaking. Mrs. Lee, as she formally introduced herself, lived practically right down the road, only a few hundred yards away. She suggested that we let her know if we need anything, because she was new to the U.S. when she was a teenager, about twenty years prior, and she remembered what it was like for her to live in a strange land. She told us that she grew up in Laos and moved to America just before college, in order to become a forensic scientist, but she ended up majoring in biochemistry instead.
Mrs. Lee had been talking for so long that her daughter, who was in the back, not saying a word, was forgotten by everyone in my family and even her mother. Everyone except me, that is. Right as I looked over at her, she dropped, picked up a rock and threw it in an arc, over to where a bird was, all of which was done in one smooth motion. She didn't hit it; it was almost as if they were playing a game of catch. Since she had her back to me, she must not have known that I was watching. Turning around, she saw that I was looking at her, smiled at me, then quickly went back to looking down at the ground. Anyone would've forgotten about the bird and just focused on her, me included.
Her and I may not have ever met before then, but I felt like I had known her for a lot longer than the two minutes they had been there. Not only did she have the same serious facial expression as I did, but she was tall and skinny, with the physical build of an athlete, and had dark brown hair, to the point where it almost looked black, just like mine. Of course, my mother invited them in after about two or three minutes, not even worrying about the fact that they might not have been who they said they were. They very well could've been sent for any of us and could have posed a serious threat. Although, if that's why they were here, we would've found out why they followed us. Ever since I can remember, I've gone places with my family, and I would be fine one minute, but everything would change in a split second. Most of the time, it was gradually, but there were a few times when I'd be walking, or even just standing there, and a sudden feeling, a faint sense that something wasn't right, would come over me. It was as if someone or something wanted to hurt one of us. Time would go by, and sometimes the feeling would dissipate, but most of the time, it got stronger, until it was almost too much to handle, one time even getting to the point where I was physically unable to stand—and then it'd go away. Maybe this would finally be explained.
Mrs. Lee and the young girl she was with, presumably her daughter, came in, at which point Mrs. Lee sat down, but the girl stayed standing near her mother. More than likely, it was just my imagination, but every time I looked up, she seemed to be staring at me, as if she simultaneously feared and admired me. Not in a childhood crush kind of way, but more like how a biology major would look at Alexander Fleming. Just as I was about to ask who she was, her mother began to ask her something.
"Morgan? What was the last name of the family that used to live here? Wasn't it Xiong? I think it was. Yeah, that's what it was. Anyways…" she continued as she turned back to face my parents, blatantly ignoring any answer her daughter might've given. "That's why they sold the house. They had to leave after…"
She kept speaking, but my mind trailed off. Now that I knew her name, she seemed a lot more familiar, but I wasn't sure why I thought I remembered her. Mrs. Lee said that she moved to America twenty years ago, so the only way I could have possibly remembered her was if they had taken a vacation to London, or somewhere close by London, where I would've come across her, since she moved to America somewhere around two or three years before Morgan was born. Even though Morgan probably wouldn't remember it, it could've been a long time ago. My memory has always been a wonder to myself, as I could remember even the little things that occurred in my life.
For a few more minutes, I tried to think of where I knew her from, but it was futile. Morgan might've seemed familiar, but there weren't any reasons why I should have known her prior to that moment. Not only did I get the feeling that I knew her, it seemed as though she knew who I was too. Practically every time I saw her look over at me, she looked at me with an expression that indicated that she knew me and probably had for a short while. Even though it was the only thing that made me feel like she didn't know me, I figured I should ignore this feeling, because she looked down every time she could tell I noticed her looking at me and would even smile at the ground a little every time.
Eventually, I decided to try to forget about it, but it didn't work. Mrs. Lee and my parents kept talking, and Henry was reading over by Sarah, who was listening to music. When I looked back at Morgan, I noticed that she wasn't looking at me, but outside at what appeared to be a falcon, but when I blinked, it disappeared. Giving up on finding it, I looked back towards Morgan, realizing that she had started to slowly walk in the direction of Henry and Sarah, but she kept on walking. Her mother was past them, so this made more sense to me; however, what didn't make nearly as much sense to me was that, after she paused by her mother and said something too quiet for me to hear, she glanced at me, turned back to her mother, and nodded.
Turning away, Morgan started to walk towards me, and I immediately felt as though something was forcing me to stay on the couch, to the point that I couldn't even shift, let alone leave. It was as if the cotton from the couch became intertwined with my clothing, keeping me there. Although it only took Morgan a few seconds to get to where I was, it felt like I was sitting there for at least an hour. When she sat down next to me, the feeling of being trapped dissipated, and she seemed much less shy than before. Not only did she actually say something to someone that wasn't her mother for the first time since she got there, but she spoke in a way that had the effect of eliciting any timidity, especially compared to how nervous she seemed.
"Hey. Sorry about my mom." she began. "She's always like that. I realize that may not have been the best way to make an impression, but I wasn't sure who was who. So I stood in the corner, trying to figure out who everyone was, before realizing that I was kind of staring… Sorry about that."
"No need to apologize." I replied. "Glad to know that someone knows who I am, and I hardly had to say anything. At first, you seemed really bashful, but I figured you'd probably be a little more gregarious once you really knew me. I'm Jacob, by the way."
"I'm Morgan. Who are your siblings?"
"Henry is over there reading another book, which is probably some kind of murder mystery. He may only be eight, but he likes to try and solve them before the characters do. Sarah is the one that's listening to music, like always, so she's not much of a conversationalist."
"That's okay. I have a friend that's like that. She doesn't ever really talk much either. So I guess you could say I'm used to it."
"Quick tip that might help you if you ever want to be friends with either of them. If Henry's reading a book you've read before, don't tell him anything about the book, especially if you didn't like it. Same thing goes for Sarah and her music. No matter what the song is, never ask her why she still listens to that song, even if it's an older song. Like I always say, music doesn't have an expiration date.' Sarah takes that saying a little too literally. Anyways, that's pretty much it. Just don't mess with Henry and books, Sarah and music, or me and baseball." I advised her.
"Baseball? You play? What position are you best at?" Morgan asked, with curiosity in her eyes.
Her expression only made me think we were more alike, because the look on her face was almost, if not exactly, the same as the look on my face when I get curious. Right then, the sense that I knew her somehow was almost too agitating, because I knew there was no way that I'd ever seen her before.
"Jacob? Is everything alright?" Morgan asked.
"Hm? Oh, right. Yeah, everything's fine. I was just… thinking." I reluctantly continued, hoping I wouldn't say too much. "Definitely pitcher. Out of every time I've ever played baseball, no one has hit a homerun when I was the one pitching. Sorry if I came off as conceited."
"No, you're fine. You don't sound conceited. You told me your name once, and the third time you mentioned yourself, it was because I asked, so I wouldn't really count those two. So only once in the past few minutes, if you think about it. Plus, I don't really know you that well, so who am I to make assumptions on your, or anyone's, character? Even if I did know you, I'm not one to judge. Sorry, am I rambling? I feel like I'm rambling."
"That's good." I replied. "Do you play any sports? Before you answer, I consider cheerleading a sport, because it requires just as much, if not more, training, endurance, physical exercise as, say, football does. Just figured I should mention that, just in case, because most people here probably don't consider it a sport, just like back home. You're not rambling. We're both kind of talking a lot at once, but that's typical."
"Wow… Most guys don't consider cheerleading to be a sport around here. Nobody ever really did." she said with a sigh. "Anyways, I play baseball, but not for the school team or anything. Soccer is definitely my favorite sport though, and I actually play on the school soccer team. Other than those two, I don't really play any other sports, unless it's just a small game with a few friends. But only if they ask. Honestly, I prefer to stick to baseball and soccer." She paused for a couple of seconds, then continued. "Yeah, that's it. Had to make sure. So is baseball the only sport you play, or do you play any others?"
Right as I was about to say something, I heard a loud screech outside that reminded me of the falcon from earlier. Judging by her reaction, Morgan heard it too, because almost immediately, she ran straight to the window, as she apologized. Once again, my curiosity got the best of me, so I hesitantly followed her to see what it was. Mrs. Lee, my parents, and my siblings must not have heard it, because they never looked over and carried on with what they had previously been doing. After a few seconds, I spotted the falcon, and what I saw shocked me. Aside from the fact that the falcon was practically suspended in mid-air (although it was rising and dropping a few inches every so often), it seemed to be trying to notify Morgan of something, and when I looked over at her, Morgan seemed a lot happier than she had been before.
When we got back to the couch, I had just enough time to tell Morgan that I also play soccer and for her to suggest that I try out for the school's soccer team, since their goalie (who coincidentally lived in the house before us) moved at the end of the school year, before Mrs. Lee called for Morgan.
"Morgan, we have to go. It's quarter-past. Everything needs to be ready." her mother began. "We were supposed to leave five minutes ago. Let's go."
She turned to my parents and quickly said something to them, just as Morgan turned to me and started talking again.
"Sorry. I have to go check on something. At least we were able to talk for a little while, right? At least now you know someone, even if you don't know me fully." You have no idea, I thought. "Now you're not entirely new." she continued. "When school starts up again, I'll look for you. Maybe you can meet some of my friends, but they can be a little obnoxious sometimes. Okay, maybe a little more than a little. Sorry, that was redundant, wasn't it? They can be extremely obnoxious at times. Wait, you are going to school, right? Not going to be getting homeschooled or anything? Not that it's a problem if you will be homeschooled. I'll just stop talking now."
"Yes." I responded. "Well no… Okay, how am I even supposed to answer that?" I asked with a laugh. "It's okay, you don't have to apologize. I'm glad we got to talk, and I'll look for you too. Yes, I'm going to school, not getting homeschooled. Honestly, most of my old friends could be pretty repugnant, so I know what you mean, but everyone can be at times. Guess I'll see you later, then?"
"Oh okay, but I might not remember not to apologize. Same here, I'm glad we got to talk. Usually, I'm really shy, but apparently, you're an exception. I'll try to find you the first day and maybe even help you with your classes. We may even have some of the same ones. Nice word, too. I'll have to use that. Especially since they won't understand it." she said with a laugh.
Not only did her worried expression from before remind me of my own, but her laugh was similar to mine, as was her composure when she regained it.
"That is true, though. Everybody can get kinda repugnant at times. Irritating, I mean. Me saying redundant is being repugnant." Her face flushed as she realized what she just said. "Can I try that again? Me saying repugnant is being redundant. Yeah. Maybe tomorrow. See you then!"
"Nice to meet you, Morgan. Thanks for talking to me. Sorry for keeping you from doing whatever it is that you need to do for so long. That'd actually be really helpful, thank you." I replied.
"No problem. Nice to meet you too, Jacob." she responded
As she got up, she dropped a folded up piece of paper, and I went to hand it back to her when I noticed what the paper had written on the front of it. Jacob Graves, I read. This must be what she was writing earlier, I thought to myself. For a split second, I contemplated giving it back to her, because she might have still been writing and accidentally dropped it. But as I looked up, she looked back at me and smiled at me, then turned and left.
Unsure of what she could've written before she had even started talking to me, I pondered what could've been on the note. However, I only sat there for about three minutes before, just like with the falcon, my curiosity got the best of me. Sliding the note into my back pocket, I stood up, unnoticed by anyone else in my family, which didn't exactly surprise me at all. That was pretty common. For me, at least, not for Henry or James. As I turned the corner into the hallway, I nonchalantly walked to my room and closed the door, sat down, and started to read.