This Love (Kaylor)

Chapter 1

I knew moving to Nashville my senior year of high school was a bad idea. If I had any sense, I would have somehow convinced my parents to let me stay in New York instead of attending some fancy prep school.

You should be happy about Dad's new job, I remind myself for the tenth time today, running a hand through my thin brown hair. But as I unpack a photo of me with Cara, taken at our old hangout back home, my heart pangs with longing and my stomach clenches in fear of having to make new friends all over again.

I sigh softly and gently place the photo back into its worn cardboard box. I get up and look round my room. Unpacked boxes are strewn across the room, taking up almost the whole floor. The furniture I've had my whole life are pushed against the white walls, and yet they looks so out of place in this unfamiliar setting. There are no posters up, no Christmas lights hanging on the wall. I feel a lump forming in my throat. Suddenly my room feels too small, the air I'm breathing is too thin.

I turn and burst through the door, stumbling down the stairs. Mom and Dad are in the kitchen, unpacking glasses and placing them into empty cupboards, looking annoyingly happy. They both look up smiling as I rush in.

"Karlie!" my mother exclaims, reaching for another glass from a box on the floor and handing it to Dad, who places it on a shelf. "Are you liking your new room, honey?" She's seemingly oblivious to my shaking hands and sweaty brow.

"Yeah, for sure. I was actually thinking of just taking a walk in the neighborhood for a sec, if that's OK?" I say in what I hope is a steady voice.

"Of course Karls," she replies. "Just take your cell phone and don't get lost."

I nod and flash my parents a convincing smile as I brush past them to the back door. "Bye!" I say on my way out.

"Be safe!" Dad calls out.

As soon as I'm outside I let out a breath I've been holding in all day. As I walk down the sidewalk on the side of the street, I slip air pods into my ears and pick a random playlist on my phone. I end up listening to some 80s pop tracks, which is fine by me. I shrug my hands into my hoodie, which is a little too hot to be wearing this far into the summer, but at the moment I couldn't care less. I'm just focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, getting as far away from the tight walls of our new house as possible.

Rounding the corner of the block, I startle as I see a dead rat on the edge of the sidewalk. Feeling sick to my stomach, I rush past the corpse. Welcome to Nashville, I think. Home to useless museums about old men and resting place to an abundance of dead rats.

Trying not to think about the rotting body I left behind me, I walk a few more blocks before hitting the intersection of a busy street littered with local shops. I set my sights on a little cafe across the street. Good enough for me, I determine.

According to a sign, it's called The Bluebird Cafe. A big window displays a cozy looking interior. After I cross the street and get closer, I notice a flier advertising live music. A perfect distraction from everything going on in my life.

As I open the metal door handle, a bell jingles. A barista turns her head in my direction. She's a pretty Hispanic girl, a little older than me, maybe college age. I slide up to the counter and my eyes glance down to the name tag pinned to her blue apron. SELENA, it reads.

She smiles at me. "What can I get for ya, miss?" she asks in a cheery voice.

Not bothering to look at any menu, I ask for a small black coffee. Selena gives me a lopsided smile before turning to prepare my simple order. I know an 18 year old girl ordering black coffee is odd, and it's something I always used to get teased about by Cara and everyone back home. But what can I say? I like simplicity in life.