Down With The Mafia

This story is about a girl named Kreszentia that just moved to the U.S because of her dad's secret, unknown job.

“What about this one?” My mom, Josephine, asked with pleading eyes. I dismissed the comforter with the wave of my hand. I couldn’t believe I’d let my mom drag me out at seven o’clock at night to shop for things to make room “mine” as my mom put it.

“Honey, please we are here for you. Try to make an effort to have a little fun?” I glared at my mom. It couldn’t have even been a full two seconds before I shifted my gaze from her to my shirt where I started tugging at a string hanging from it. I loved my mom. I mean, if it was anyone’s fault that we moved it’d be my dad’s.

“Please be happy.” She whispered. I felt myself frown. Happy? She wanted me to be happy? I had just been ripped from the only life I’d ever known like a loose seam on a pair of jeans just a week ago and she wanted me to bounce around with a smile on my face and be happy. All fine and dandy? Well, that wasn’t happening. You know that little annoying voice you get in your head when you know you’re being ridiculous? Well mine was saying it’s not horrible that my own mother wants me to be happy even though we moved. But still, I wasn’t in the mood for listening to it.

“I am happy, mama.” I wanted to kick myself. I couldn’t understand why I had just said that. I picked up a purple comforter off a shelf at random.

“Here, I like this one.” I gave my mom a weak smile. It’s not like me pouting was going to get me back to Switzerland, so I might as well take advantage of my mom letting me decorate my room.

“This is such a great color. I’m sure there are matching curtains and--” I stopped listening as she trailed on with details of how to make everything in my room match. Two hours later I found myself alone in my room crying. God, how pathetic could I get? I had to admit, the room was an upgrade from my old one. It was bigger, had a view of the ocean, and big bay windows. But I would have gone back to my old room in a flash. This one just wasn’t familiar. It didn’t have the spot of sparkly blue nail polish that I had spilled on the carpet. The paint in this room wasn’t scraped off from all the times I had rushed in flinging the door open and having it bang the doorknob against the wall. I could have thrown a fit. Told my parents I’d run away, or I’d kill myself if they made me leave my life. But honestly, that never got anyone anywhere. I heard a light knock on the door and quickly dried my eyes.

“Hey papi” I greeted my dad as he walked into the room. His frown showed that he was not pleased that I hadn’t unpacked anything yet.

“Still settling in, Zeti?” I smiled hearing him say the name he called me when I was a child.

“It’s just this room is different. It’s a nice room though. A nice house. It’s not so bad papi.” I couldn’t believe I was hearing myself reassuring him. Telling him I was okay. That I’d be okay.

“Zeti, I want you to be happy. Don’t lie to me tochter.” His voice was gentle.

“Will you be happy here?”

“Eventually, Ja, I will.” I smiled at him letting him know I was telling the truth. I would be happy here eventually. I wasn’t lying. Or at least I was hoping I would be.

“Ich hoffe, dass Sie glückliche bald Tochter sind” My dad said and then kissed my head.

“I will be happy soon. Don’t worry papi.”

“Gute Nacht Zeti.”

“Nacht.” When I heard the door close behind him I sank onto my bed and buried my head into my hands. When was I going to be happy? I looked around my room and for the first time really saw how I wasn’t accepting this move. I had only unpacked one box out of the thirty in my room. I sighed, got off my bed, and started unpacking the boxes one by one.

My ideal way of waking up is not being woken up by the blinding sun. Then again if I could choose any way of waking up it wouldn’t be waking up on a Monday at 6:30 in the morning.

“Zentia! Wake up!” My mom yanked the covers off me. I shivered feeling the cool air surround my body, sucking up my warmth.

“Ich bin wach!” I sat up, shielding my eyes from the sun.

“There are nicer ways of waking a person up you know.” I grumbled getting out of bed.

“Nicer, maybe. More effective, doubt it.” She smiled at me.

“Breakfast is downstairs when you’re ready.” I nodded to show her I heard her and she left my room. My mom is a morning person. I am not. It wouldn’t bother me one bit if school started at noon and went to seven o’clock at night. But it doesn’t. So that’s why forty five minutes later I found myself standing in front of the mirror in my bathroom scrutinizing my image. I wasn’t terrible looking. Pale blonde hair that fell in-between my shoulder blades. Blue eyes. Clear skin. Nothing to complain about really. I didn’t have to much of anything on my body. Everything was evenly proportioned. Often the first thing that came to mind when I looked at myself was porcelain doll. I looked dainty and breakable. I hated it. I didn’t want to look weak, even though I probably am. I’ve never been truly tested, so I’m not certain. I’d like to think of myself as a strong person. But then again a strong person would sit in her room wallowing in self pity about having to move. Wouldn’t a strong person see it as a new beginning? Maybe that’s just an optimistic person.

“Zentia! You’re going to be late. Hurry!” My mom yelled up the stairs.

“Kommen!” I hurried downstairs.

“I know you don’t have time for an actual breakfast,” My mom said.

“But you’re eating something. Here” She placed a breakfast bar in my hand.

“Thanks mama. I’ll see you later.”

“Have a good first day honey.”

“I will. Love you.”

“Ich liebe dich auch” I leaned over the breakfast bar and kissed her cheek then hurried out to my car. I loved my yellow S2000. Such a beautiful car. What’s better was that it’s a fast car. I pulled into the school parking lot with five minutes until the bell rang. There was no way I was getting to my locker and to class on time. I was trying my best not to draw attention to myself. It didn’t work. With each click of my boot’s heel more heads turned. I silently cursed myself for wearing these boots. I clicked all the way to my locker and put all my unused school supplies in it. As I closed my locker I noticed a group of girls maybe twenty lockers away whispering, their heads bent close to each other. I could easily pick the leader of the group. She was taller than the other two girls, who looked at her with adoring eyes. Eyes that said they were dying to please her. To be her best friend in the whole world. She had blonde hair, but opposite from mine. Her hair was a honey blonde that shimmered in the fluorescent lights of the school. Her eye’s were a striking green. Her body was more bodacious than the other two girls. She was the kind of girl who made you hate yourself. I looked down at my legs. When I put my skirt on this morning my legs didn’t seem so pale and disgusting. I glanced at her legs. Perfectly tan. When I looked at her face again she had one perfectly plucked eyebrow raised. Her lips were curled in a cruel smirk. She didn’t like me. That much I could tell. The warning bell rang and I hurried off to class. Unfortunately I didn’t know where class was. Five minutes after the late bell rang I arrived at my homeroom. I walked in ignoring all the stares I was getting.

“Nice a*s!” Someone called as I neared the teacher. I blushed. No one had ever said anything so suggestive in my old school. Especially in front of the teachers. The teacher focused his gaze on a muscular boy that was seated in the middle of other muscular boys. Each of them were wearing a football jersey. Football players. My friend Astrid, who had lived in America for five years before she moved back to Switzerland, told me all about them. Most of what she said was most of the cliché things you can read in books or see on T.V shows. So, it’s not like I took her sayings to heart or anything.

“Mr. Whitmoore, do you want a referral?” The Whitmoore boy smiled.

“Sir, it’s quite a tempting offer but I’ll have to refuse.”

“Then I would strongly advise you to keep your mouth shut and show some respect to the young lady.” Whitmoore didn’t reply but shifted his gaze over to me. I pulled my skirt down with the hand I wasn’t using to hold books. Noticing this, Whitmoore smirked.

“What’s your name Miss?” The teacher asked me. I turned my attention to him.

“Kreszentia Neumann. It’s my first day and I got a little lost. I apologize for being late. It won’t happen tomorrow.” I gave him my best “I’m so sorry” smile.

“That’s alright. I’m Mr. Brown and you can go take a seat by Mr. Whitmoore.” Noticing my grimace he smiled. I surveyed the class. I’m sure many people were curious as to who I was. But they obviously didn’t care enough to stop chatting with their friends as I provided a distraction.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he doesn’t talk to you to much.” He added in a lower voice. I looked over to see the only empty seat in the classroom was right beside Whitmoore. He smiled at me and tapped the seat next to him. An invitation. I sighed and sat down.

“Alright guys, it’s a freebee day. I didn’t have a chance to finish lesson plans over the weekend so just do whatever and savor the day. But you need to keep the noise to a reasonable level.” I opened a book and started reading, I was surprised when it was yanked rather rudely from my grip.

“Um, can I have my book back please?” I asked as Whitmoore scanned through the book and then place it on my desk.

“It’s all in a different language!” He proclaimed.

“You’re ingenious.” I said flatly and reopened my book. Whitmoore turned his attention to one of his buddies and started whispering not so quietly.

“Dibs. I‘m slamming that. Foreign girls want it…bad” He told his friend. With great effort I kept myself from smirking. There was no way in hell he was ever coming near me like that. American boys were gross. So perverted. Okay, I could feel myself jumping to conclusions. American boys were not gross. Boys are perverted everywhere. But this Whitmoore guy wasn’t giving me a lot to go off of so I could make a decent judgment. I spent the rest of the period in a miniature hell hearing about all the girls Whitmoore was going out with this coming weekend. As soon as the bell rang I was out of my seat and in the hallway. I glanced to my right and to my dismay I saw Whitmoore standing there smiling at me.

“So, what’s your name again? Kretia?”

“Um, no.” I walked faster hoping he’d lose interest and move on. But he didn’t, he just quickened his pace intent on bothering me.

“How about you and me this weekend?” He asked. I almost laughed. Who asks that? He hasn’t even known me for a full hour.

“No thanks. I’m busy.” Whitmoore just laughed.

“You’re the new girl. New girls are never busy. It’s not like you know anyone.” He dropped his voice lower and added,

“You can get to know me.” I rolled my eyes.

“I don’t want to get to know you.”

“Don’t be like that baby.” Whitmoore cooed.

“Oh, please.” I said and walked into my classroom. I could actually breathe without his heavy scent of cologne around me.

I was already itching to get out of school by the time I got to third period. I walked in and grumpily dropped myself into one of the seats closest to the window. Everyone was annoying. None of the teacher’s could pronounce my name right. Not even the shortened version of my name. I was done with people whisper. I’d only gotten lucky with my first period class not caring about who I was because it seemed as if everyone else did. Apparently nothing else was remotely interesting in their lives. And the cherry on top of all that was every time Whitmoore saw me in the hallway he winked at me like we shared some kind of secret. I could only imagine what people were saying about that. I looked out the window to see a blue jay that had just returned to it’s mate who had been sitting on three little eggs. It was amazing how much these birds devoted themselves to those eggs.

“Kreszentia..” Hearing my name, I looked up.

“Good you’re finally back to planet earth.” Mr. Walker said with a annoyed expression on his face. My temper flaring I opened my mouth to say something but was interrupted by someone coming into the classroom. As soon as the focus was off me I turned my attention back to the blue jays.

“Sorry Mr. Walker! I know how you hate it when I’m late, but really I had some trouble with my locker and..”

“Save it Mr. Johassan, I don’t need excuses. It’s so nice to have you back from your ski trip.” Mr. Walker said in a dull voice.

“Isn’t it? But don‘t worry, I am totally ready to learn all the science you can teach”

“Brian go take a seat by Kreszentia.”

“Who?”

“She’s the girl by the window, blonde hair, new student, has the inability to pay attention.” Irritated I looked up at him again and scowled. The Brian boy, and I use boy loosely looked at me and smiled. I felt butterflies come alive in my stomach. Brian crossed the classroom and slipped into the desk beside me. I turned my attention, once again, back to the birds.

“Hey, I’m Brian.” He introduced himself to me.

“I heard your name when the teacher spoke it.” I informed him.

“So, Kreszentia, that’s a unusual name.”

“Most people call me Zentia.” I looked over to his grinning face. Ohmygod. He was gorgeous. His hair was a dirty blonde. It wasn’t really long, but it was long enough that his bangs fell right above his eyes. Oh, and his eyes. Pools of green and blue. Hazel. I swear it had to be my new favorite color. His grin showed his white teeth. They looked so much whiter against his tan skin. I could tell just by looking at his face that his body was just as gorgeous as his face. I hadn’t realized that he had been trying to carry on the conversation until he waved a hand in front of my face.

“Hello?” I stopped staring and felt myself blush.

“Sorry. You were saying?” And that’s how it started. We talked the whole period. I could tell this was not usual from the venomous glares I was getting from the other girls around the room. At one point when Brian asked to see my schedule and said he hoped we had some classes together a girl turned so red from anger or jealousy that she asked to use the restroom. Now I found myself walking with this incredibly gorgeous guy to my, I mean our fourth period. Gym.

“So are you into any sports?” Brian asked me as he held the gym door open for me. I smiled, showing my thanks.

“Well, I play tennis sometimes.” Brian’s face lit up.

“That’s awesome. I do too.” I grinned, happy to have something in common with him.

“Maybe we can play sometime.” He suggested.

“Yeah that’d be fun.” We separated as we went to our different locker rooms. After I got dressed I walked out of the locker room and saw everyone talking and forming into their groups except for me. I walked over to the bleachers and planted myself on them. I started picking at one of my nails when I felt another presence beside me. I looked up to see a girl sitting beside me.

“Hey.” She said in greeting. I looked on the other side of me to make sure she was really talking to me.

“Yeah, I’m talking to you!” She laughed at me. Not in a harsh way, but as if we were old friends. I smiled at this girl, liking her already.

Author's Note

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