Starting New

Chapter 1

Stevie slings her duffel bag over her shoulder and surveys the airport. It's her first time in Montreal, and for a reason that Stevie cannot fathom, the Montreal airport is a labyrinth. She huffs and decides to just choose a direction to start walking in it hoping to find an exit. As she walks, an uneasiness settles in her chest. She would be starting university in a week, in a city where she has never been to, where at least three quarters of the population speaks French ( a language that she has not quite mastered yet, she read The Little Prince in primary school, granted her copy was in English, but that still kinda counts). "But it's a great opportunity," she keeps reassuring herself as she readjusts the strap of her duffel bag, it's a chance to start anew.

In high school, Stevie wasn't exactly what you call popular. She was a driven student, captain of the debate team and an eloquent writer. However, her peers did not appreciate her outspoken nature and strong opinions. Apparently, the people at her high school were not ready to discuss intersectionality and how our patriarchal culture hurts both men and women.

But all of that is in the past.

By accepting her scholarship to one of the most prestigious universities in Canada, she's is destined meet people who would be open to discussing ideas, rather than bashing them. At least that's what to brochure said. Plus, she heard Canadians were all super nice. Maybe, she would even find somebody to replace Ryan.

Stevie's arm is now burning from bearing weight of her substantially heavy bag. Regretting packing so many books, Stevie plops the bag by her feet and takes a breath, with hands on her hips. People pass by chattering away in French. Businessmen talk urgently on cell phones while glancing at their watches with conviction and mothers carrel children out of the way of late travellers who weave in and out of bystanders attempting to reach their gate in time. In her over thinking of her big move, Stevie had not given herself a chance to take in her surroundings. She had finally made it. This is what she had worked for.

Stevie's stomach grumbles. Then, she remembers that she hasn't eaten since she boarded her plane six hours ago and she had refused to eat the questionable microwavable gruel that was offered her by an grim faced flight attendant.

There was a cafe just ahead and to her right. So, Stevie decides she deserves a food break from all of her over-thinking. She gets in line and glances at the menu that's posted above the barista. Perfect, it's all in French. Maybe she would just order a coffee. How do you say that again... It's just café, right? Stevie's eyes are fixated on the menus and she bits her lip willing herself to decipher the menu. Mid-eyebrow furrow, Stevie feels a soft tap on her shoulder.

"If it's your first time in Montreal, I suggest you try a chocolatine," the voice is soft and husky, definitely a woman's.

"Thanks, my French is really bad, " Stevie says looking over her shoulder.

Her eyes meet the woman's and Stevie smiles faintly. There's something about her... Her long brown hair that seems so perfectly out of place. A tattoo peaks out from the sleeve of her oversized grey t-shirt. And that smile.

Stevie is taken aback. She usually is quick witted, but apparently today she was malfunctioning. This has never happened to her before. Everything about this girl, her hair, her shoes, the way she stood so effortlessly with one hand resting in her pocket. After a moment, Stevie realizes that she had been staring. She looks back up at the woman, who flashes her a sly smile. She did not know what possessed her, but she just can't stop herself from looking into those eyes.

"Boujourhi,"

Stevie's trace is broken.

The barista waves his arm to get Stevie's attention and repeats the standard retail greeting

"Bonjourhi," he sounds slightly irritated.

"I guess you're next," the woman says.

Stevie smiles, feeling a little embarrassed and approaches the counter.

"Boujourhi," the barista says rapidly, yet again.

"Hi, can I have a.." Stevie's drawing a blank. What was that thing that she was told to order again? She was way too distracted to remember. She continues to rack her brains when the woman from before steps up behind her and begins speaking to the barista.

"Bonjour, deux chocolatines et," she glances over at Stevie "Want a coffee?"

All Stevie can do is nod.

"et deux cafés s'il vous plaît," the woman tells the barista, handing him money.

"Oh you don't have to get my--" Stevie begins.

"No, worries," the woman says "I'm Ally by the way."

"Stevie."