The Day I met Ella

I remember the day I met Ella as clear as a blue-skied middle-of-July summer day. I had just arrived in this strange city. I was part of a new family: a family I yearned to be part of for years, a family I dreamed of at night when the monsters in my closet teased me for being a cry baby. Here I was, with my father at last - the hero who would one day rescue me from said monsters. Or so I thought.

I had just been enrolled in the local high school, which my uncle described as a place where intelligent kids' potentials die. He wasn't wrong. As soon as I stepped foot in this place, I could feel the despair of this school's current and past students. The artificial lighting was dim and cool, which accentuated the dark atmosphere of the grey sky and prison building just outside, despite the lack of windows. Dingy and dark; that is what this place was.

On the morning of the first day of class, my heart was pounding, and my stomach turned into knots. This would be my first day in an American school. What if I didn't understand anyone? This was likely (also what happened) given that I only spoke Spanish. My uncle, cousin, and grandmother had filled my head with horror stories about schools here.

Be careful with what you wear; you might get bullied for wearing those sparkling hair bows you like. Keep your hair tied; you don't want a jealous morena to cut it with scissors. Be careful not to get involved in fights; there are cops everywhere. Keep your head low and mind your own business. Come home straight from school.

The words of my relative swirled around my head while I watched my cereal get soggy.

"Eat your breakfast, mi amor," my dad said with a smile on his face "can't learn on an empty stomach."

"I'm not hungry," I replied in a low voice.

"Don't be nervous," he said as he gave me a side hug "you'll be fine."

He wasn't very convincing. I could tell by the way he played with his cereal using his spoon that his stomach was turning and twisting too. He barely had gotten a bite in before he turned to me and asked if I was ready to go. I wasn't, but I didn't need to confirm that verbally.

When we stepped out of the apartment building, grayness greeted us—the stormy sky frown upon us, almost angry at the people beneath it. We walked a couple of blocks together. We passed the raggedy corner bodega and went down the block, passing by a park that was slowly dying at the hands of early fall.

"We're here," my dad said, looking at me as we stood in front of a red-brick building.

"Are you ready?" he asked

"No," I paused for a few seconds, "are you?"

He sighed in response without uttering a word. As we walked up to each step, I wanted nothing more than to go home. Not the tiny, roach-infested shoe-box apartment I shared with abuela and papi. I wanted to go home home—my sunny, beautiful island. But I didn't want to be there without papi. Not at the moment, anyway.

Once papi left to go to work, I walked through the maze-like hallways. I felt so… alone and lost. The hallways were buzzing with life; people walking in all directions, students talking to each other in Spanish and English, friends walking together. Everyone knew everyone else except me. Despite being surrounded by a universe full of its own life, my body couldn't help but round its shoulders downwards. I wanted to be invisible. I wanted to disappear.

I eventually made it to my classroom. My brain was in such a daze; I don't remember how I got there. Homeroom wasn't any different than the lively hallways I had just experienced. Everyone seemed to be so comfortable in the environment. It was difficult for me to fathom.

The teacher didn't keep us for a long time. He went over the basics and gave us a really boring speech I can't bother to remember. If I'm honest, all I can think about is the first time I saw her face. Everything else before that was like a fever dream that you're not quite sure whether it happened or not.

After following the rest of the kids to our next class, we traveled as a homeroom for the year; I found myself in a poorly lit history classroom. I sat in the back left corner, next to the opened window. It was freezing but definitely worth being next to the window (not for the view, as it was horrendously plagued with dead trees and a precinct, and a rusty rundown playground). Being next to the window made me feel less claustrophobic, and it allowed me to stare at the sky.

Before the teacher came in, I dug in my bookbag for a notebook, but my heart started racing when my hand fished out the wrong book. I put it back and started fishing for a notebook again. My chest was heavy, and tears were beginning to well up in my eyes. No notebook.

"Hey," I heard a small voice say from my right, "it's okay."

I hadn't noticed I was being observed.

"I'm Ella," the voice said while handing me a little black notebook. It looked like a lovely journal. The edges of the pages were gilded in gold, and the pages were as smooth as satin.

"Thank you," I said in a child-like voice while turning around to face my savior.

History class went by fast. How could it not when you barely understand what is being said? And when all you do is stare at the gray sky through the window? I didn't even attempt to participate. Luckily for me, I didn't have to. We just watched a film.

"Hola," said a familiar voice towards me as I packed up my stuff.

"me?" I asked, confused.

"Yes," said the girl who had introduced herself as Ella earlier.

"Ella, right?"

"Yes, that's me," she said, "what's your name?"

"Samantha," I said.

"Nice to meet ya, Sam," She said brightly "we should hang out!"

"Yeah!" I was excited to make my first friend. Despite it being the first day of school, walking through the hallways alone felt awfully lonely.

After school, Ella found me and took me to the park nearby. The changing color of the leaves surrounded us. There was a contrast between the greens, yellows, oranges of the tree and the ever graying sky. We walked for a while without saying much. I think we were both taking in the beauty of this moment, the serene air, the beautiful trees, the dirt under our feet.

"I brought a blanket so that we can sit down," Ella said.

"Do you always carry a blanket with you?" I asked.

"Most of the time," Ella gave me a mischievous smile," You never know when you might need it."

"Right," I said, laughing a little.

We set up the blanket on the ground and sat next to each other. We looked at each other and smiled. I don't know why, but there was a nervous energy in the air. My heart couldn't help but beat faster than usual. Suddenly, I was here at the park with this beautiful, confident, and outgoing girl. Something I couldn't have guessed would happen to me on the first day of school. We talked and talked and talked. We talked about our families. We talked about our home countries. We talked about our interests. We talked about our hopes for the future. Hopes I didn't know I had until I had said them aloud.

Suddenly, Ella took out a dark bottle with red foil around its neck out of her bag. The bottle was big and unlike anything I've seen before.

"It's a bottle of Merlot," Ella said.

"What's that?"

"It's wine, dummy," Ella laughed, "I got it from my parent's alcohol cabinet. They're probably not going to notice. And even if they do, they're not going to do anything… they never do."

I didn't know what to say. So I offered her a hug, which I hoped was comforting.

"Anyway," Ella became her lively self again, "let's open this sucker."

Ella whipped out a corkscrew. At this point, I wasn't surprised she had one in her bag. After she opened the bottle of wine, I felt nervous about drinking. I had never had alcohol in my life. I didn't know how it would feel to get drunk. But Ella assured me it would be fine. SO we sat in the park and drank our wine and talked some more. We exchanged looks here and there. I couldn't help but notice the line of long and thick eyelashes surrounding her honey brown eyes.

We drank the whole bottle by ourselves. Once we hit the bottom of the bottle, the world started spinning. We giggled together about nothing at all, and it was beautiful.

"You're beautiful," I blurted out, slurring my words and surprising myself at my sudden boldness. She looked at me, and we stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. Slowly we started leaning closer to each other when Ella put her hand on my upper back. The sensation of her warm hand on my back felt comforting and familiar.

When our lips touched, fireworks went off in my head. My fingertips instinctually reached for Ella's cheek to gently caress her skin.

"Thank you for this nice date," Ella said

"Date?"

"Yeah, I was hoping this could be a date."

I had never gone on a date, but I was happy to call this my first one, and with some as unique as Ella.

"I would love for this to be our first date," I said.

We both smiled at each other for a while without saying anything.

A few hours passed, and we just hung out. When the sun started to go down, we decided it was time to head home. Still spinning from the wine, the world made it difficult for me to remember where my bus stop was or what bus to take.