Idiosyncratic: A Collection of Short Stories

I. Moving

In my old school, everyone knew everyone. I’ve grown up with the same people my entire life. I’ve been in the same school since I could remember.

Here, in America, families were given a small list of schools to enroll their child in based on where they were living. They cannot apply elsewhere unless the family was willing to pay for a private school. My parents, deciding to stick with the option of free education, enrolled me to the nearest school available.

Because I’ve never moved, before I entered high school, already the upper-class men knew of my batches stories. They’d applaud for the accomplishments or they’d judge on the failures. My rank in the schools status quo was already made before I could even start making one. I wanted to feel disgusted, but I’d be a hypocrite if I did; sometimes, I’d seek out gossip on the upper-class men so I could distinguish the popular between the unpopular. It’s sad really, but that’s just how it worked in Wimbledon School.

Throughout my whole school life, only five classmates left in my batch, and only one new kid came. Because of this rarity, when a new kid came, he or she was always the talk of the school. People would crowd the newbie – like how a moth was attracted to a flame – all in hopes of just having a new member in their clique.

Besides being so rare, I think what really made a new kid so attractive was the fact no one knew anyone about him or her. He or she was mysterious, and who in the world wouldn’t want a little bit of mystery in their life?

Ever since then, I’d always wonder how it would be like to be ‘the new kid.’ Honestly, it seemed great. What was better than being able to start over? Having no back-story for everyone to judge on? I’d be able to make new friends, and find out about them. They’d be interested in the stories I told because they never heard of them, and I’d even have the power to choose which stories to tell! I’d be able to make my own name. I’d be able to see the status quo I truly belonged in.

I’d be the mystery.

So when I finally was given the opportunity, I never expected me to hate the idea so much.

***

My new school was called Grandview High School. But besides the school and everything and everyone in it, that wasn’t the only thing that was new. My bed was new. My room was new. My house was new. Worst of all, the country I now lived in was new.

            11, 310 kilometers of sea was in between my birth country and I. One flight from Manila, Philippines to DC, Washington was 17 hours and 51 minutes. The thought of being so far away from my friends, and some of my family left me devastated. How could my parents decide to just leave everything behind? Well, at least my dad did.

            My mother grew up in the Philippines. Unlike everyone else in my family, she had family and friends here. She knew the culture, and how everything worked around here. She knew the different places to hang out.

            “Lucy!” my mother shouted. I snapped out of my thoughts as she banged on the door furiously. “You can’t hide in your room all day. You’re going to school whether you want to or not.”

            I groaned loudly, making sure she heard me clearly. “This is not my room, and please, by all means, make me.”

             Suddenly, the tone of her voice changed. It was softer, and I despised it because it made me feel guilty. “I brought you out yesterday. I thought you liked it here.” I could just imagine her with that disappointed frown on her face right now. My heart dropped at the thought.

            Yesterday, my mother tried to convince my older brother and I that the Philippines wasn’t so bad. She’d show old pictures of her times here, before moving to America. She also boasted about the amazing beaches that apparently I would love. She told stories of the kind Filipinos, and she brought us to the popular malls. I admit, the kind-hearted stories, beautiful places, and the way my mom smiled brightly as she told me of her home country, left me breathless. But by the end of the day, I wasn’t blinded anymore, and I remembered.