Chapter One: The Way Things Became
Brooklyn
January 2nd, 2024 - Third Quarter Moon
8:14 AM
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It was like she was repeating history.
The freezing mid-winter air bit at her face, gnawed at her cheeks.
Brooklyn took in a deep breath, and heaved a huge sigh back out. A giant translucent puff of white burst into the wind, disintegrated and was gone the next second.
The sun beginning to rise at the east caught her eye. Around the glowing golden ball lay the sky, splashed beautifully across the clouds, as if it was an ordinary canvas. The shades of night were starting to crumble away, purple clashing with royal blue. Up ahead were gorgeous blends of pink—both dark and pale, swirling like watercolors into vibrant yellows and peaches. Maybe she'd try and paint all this later, if she remembered to.
She felt the calmness of a temporary déjà vu as she took a moment to reminisce. This seemed so familiar.
The jittery, nervous thoughts.
The horrible—now a little ridiculous—feeling of abandonment.
The joyous, happy voices that had welcomed her after.
This wasn't her first day of school, no; but rather, it was her first year of middle school: one of the most cutthroat, mean, and exhausting places ever created on Earth. Despite already enduring one full school year of chaos, it still seemed as if she had just attended yesterday, and she still was barely used to it. There was something new every day, but that was what made it special.
After an entire summer of clinging onto the memories of her sixth grade year, that she knew were destined to fade someday soon, everything felt like it happened the day or week before. Like everyone else predicted, the memories were starting to cloud a little. But, it wasn't all bad, though.
Brooklyn could hardly wait for the bus to show up. She'd get to her new friends faster, and the faster they reunited, the better. Well, better for stirring up said chaos, anyway.
Another memory came fizzing in, like a freshly opened can of soda. She remembered hating the fact that she probably would never get to see her old friends again; the thought of being alone in the first place scared her sometimes. On their graduation day, she remembered opening the floodgates of tears and sticking to everyone she could at the end of the day. She remembered trying desperately not to let them go—not after everything they'd been through together.
"You'll make new friends!"
"They won't last, give it up!"
"You'll be going to a great school, with people just like you!"
"You'll fit in just fine."
"—fit in just fine."
"—just fine."
She huffed. Her family's voices, everyone's that knew of her old summer situation, rang in her head. They were speaking from experience and only trying to help, she knew that, but it wasn't easy, just letting all her old friends go. Each and every day, even after joining her new school, she still missed them terribly . . . especially for the first few weeks. It didn't take long for her to make friends, as she was such a social butterfly when she wanted to be, and in the end, it was all worth it, she decided.
Brooklyn was becoming restless. Last August, just when she thought it was all over, when she thought she'd never fit in, there came her new friends—as well as some old ones.
As soon as she'd seen her former classmates, a sense of calm had almost immediately opened her up, like a halo of protection: Amber and Jermaine. Nostalgia had hit her hard that day.
And ever since then, things had gotten better; besides the huge amounts of schoolwork, that is. Other than that, she was . . . starting to love it where she was. It was the most diverse, crazy, and unpredictable magnet of arts she'd ever been to. There was theater, dance, choir, band, orchestra, piano, creative writing (her magnet), and lastly visual arts, of course—which she would have gotten into as well if the applications weren't so full. Overall, it was everything, and it was beautiful . . . and she couldn't have wished for anything better.
Brooklyn turned and fixed her eyes down the street she had been waiting beside, hearing the sputter and roar of her morning bus. Finally! She'd finally get to see her friends, after an entire two weeks!
The huge weathered bus staggered to a stop in front of her, and she climbed on, shivering. Her jeans weren't exactly resistant to such cold air like this.
I should have worn my jogging suit, she thought with spite. Brooklyn loved winter, sure enough, but mainly because of the snow, and the fact that there were less people around in the cold.
Brooklyn fought her way towards the tail-end of the bus, her backpack smacking each seat. She'd nearly tripped over her own feet because of how narrow the aisles were; was it always like this? God, it was annoying.
As soon as she sat, the bus yanked to the right. She was flung down into Seat 15, the heavy weight at her back and shoulders sending her tumbling. She heaved an annoyed but relieved sigh, just happy to have gotten to sit in warmth after ten minutes.
A deep snicker arose from behind her. "You good, friend? Took quite a fall, there."
Brooklyn let a grin slip its way onto her face. "Yeah. I just need to defrost. My knees feel stiff and I think my joints are frozen in place."
Two brown eyes appeared above where she'd lay, and a head full of expert-twisted dreadlocks, one eyebrow arched in amusement. "Ah, come on! It can't be that cold."
"That's what you think, Ja'Pree," grunted Brooklyn as she strained to sit up. She pushed off her backpack, the bag collapsing into the corner of the window. "For a few minutes I swear I couldn't feel my fingers."
"Way to exaggerate." She heard Ja'Pree laugh again. "It's not that cold to me."
"That's because literally everything is the opposite to you." Another voice joined in the banter. "We all know that."
"I don't remember adding you to this chat, Desmond."
"Doesn't mean I never got an invite."
Ja'Pree scoffed. It was nothing of annoyance; Brooklyn could hear the play in his tone. "What's got you so snarky today?"
Desmond huffed sullenly. "My concert got canceled last night."
Brooklyn turned back to gawp at him. "It did?" That was one of the performances she actually volunteered to show up to. The Band and Orchestra Magnets had set up so many special things and sold too many tickets to have it canceled the next day.
"Yes, bro." Desmond turned his gaze away from his window, the song on his phone close to ending. He scrolled for a moment before making up his mind and settling on a ballad. "I had a solo to play. I was supposed to be the fifth to go out onstage."
"Huh. Sucks, man. 'M sorry," Ja'Pree muttered, eyeing his friend.
"Yeah, me too," Brooklyn told him. She flashed him a small smile trying to lighten up the mood. "I was gonna go this time."
"Yeah, well. Stuff happens, don't feel like it's your fault," Desmond reassured them. The eighth grader sat up straight. "Besides; it probably woulda been a little boring anyway. I mean, who'd want to sit and watch Whitney play completely out of tune for two-and-a-half hours?"
That earned a laugh from Brooklyn and another chuckle from Ja'Pree. "I really dunno how that kid got in."
Brooklyn shrugged. "Tch. No one does. The kid barely plays as it is, let alone plays well."
Before they knew it, the road had smoothed over and they weren't practically vibrating in place anymore, and the surroundings were becoming more and more familiar outside the bus. Their next stop!
They'd come to a slow halt at the end of a long street littered by neatly organized houses—right down the road from her grandmother's place, she'd recognized—and outside the window was a trio of kids, frantic to board the bus.
One after another, they slunk inside, shivering fiercely: Autumn, Donothan, and his older sister, Carrie.
The smallest of them blew out a breath, disappearing among the bus seats as it took off again. "Tomorrow, we're waiting until the bus is supposed to pull up to come outside," Donothan whined.
"Ain't gotta tell me twice." Autumn scrambled to organize all her bags. "I literally think I have frostbite. My fingers are numb!"
Everyone laughed. A little exclamation of "stop being extra!" came from below Carrie's seat.
"Hold on, wait," Desmond said above the teasing. "We're missing somebody. Where's Mariah?"
"I am right here." A weary voice spoke up over the rumbling of the road underneath the bus.
"Hey, she ain't knocked out cold today!" Ja'Pree poked at her. "It's a miracle!"
Mariah grumbled. "Would it hurt for y'all to just let me sleep?"
Carrie looked up from her phone, smiling. "Would it hurt for you to wake up for once and talk to us, Ri?"
"Not if you can't keep it down."
"You're such a doofus."
Brooklyn chuckled to herself. This was only the beginning of all the said chaos.
The morning ride kicked on, delving into shadowed streets and suburbs thick and thin. After the trio, there was Ivy, who had leaped into the growing conversation immediately after being thrown into her seat. After Ivy came Bre'Yonna. Then came Koby, and then came more and more.
More of that eagerness washed over Brooklyn like the warmth of the sunlight. She watched as the surroundings shifted from small and cozy to rugged and widespread. Buildings were growing taller, and the air blew stronger. From up ahead, the scent of raging freshwater wafted into Brooklyn's nose, and the skies were clearing. They were descending into the city.
The sun hung semi-high among the thin, translucent clouds. The sound of roaring river and the road smoothing over again filled in the empty, noiseless areas of the bus.
The conversations only grew more and more loud (and quite deranged) the deeper Brooklyn got into the city. She kept quiet, marveling silently at every beautiful mural laid upon the corners and walls, the tiny little coffee shops, and tattoo parlors as she zipped past them.
And soon enough, they pulled into the long bus lane, and before it even stopped the doors were flung open.