One must be “the new kid” at least once in their life. It’s fact. I’ve just always assumed that my mom and I would never move from sunny California, so I would never have to endure new schedules, friends, and teachers.

Boy, did I think wrong.

I was told, on a warm Saturday morning, the cruel fate that I would have to live through, well, until I moved to college. We would be moving to Tennessee to live with my mom’s soon-to-be husband.

Yippee. Shauna May Florin is going to move in with complete strangers.

So far, I know my “family’s” backgrounds. Starting from youngest to oldest, there is Mathew “Cream” Davis. Cream is a fourteen year old who is in the meanest of the pubescent age, leaving him barely able to control the simplest things; such as his room, his schoolwork and his thought process which mainly circles around the female species. Somehow, whenever I see pictures of Cream, I always see something in his black hair that basically looks like he smeared acne cream in it, hence the name Cream.

Georgia Fay Davis is, of course, the middle child at an exciting fifteen years of age! Gee-Fay gets whatever she wants, and generally what she wants is extremely expensive. It surprises me, to say the least, that her- I mean my- family isn’t in debt because of Gee-Fay’s weekly shopping sprees. But, don’t be fooled by Gee-Fay’s wavy brown locks and constantly batting eyes, for she’s a true rebel, willing to take down anyone who’s in her way to getting the best Stilettos in the mall. The only upside to this girl, is that I can borrow her cloths without her knowing a thing.

Who can forget about the oldest child? Now, this one is a keeper, and I’m saying this literally; he won’t be leaving the Davis’ household anytime soon. Sir Cedric Harmony Davis lives in the basement in his nineteenth year of this pitiful life. For some reason, I have a tremendous feeling that I’m going to like this Mr. Cedric for many reasons. The biggest being that I’m going to move into his- my- family’s house and, most likely, he’ll leave me alone about it.

Lastly, there’s Freddy Davis. Much to my absolute sadness, I can’t find a suitable name for Fred. He’s just so… out there, that there are so many names to think of, I couldn’t possibly think of one good one. What caught me off guard is that my mother is actually going to marry this… thing. I would her to at least look at Cream, the pubescent teen, before Fred, here, the stout, balding, chirpy man he is.

And, here to start my adventure is my mother, Anna Marie Florin. Generally, for future preferences, I wouldn’t even speak of her in these times of remorse, but in seeing that you must know all of my dysfunctional family, I suppose I shall. Mother Anna is beautiful, like moi, and it always seems as if there is a stick up her… you know. Sometimes I question whether I am her real child or if I was just switched as birth.

All of the things that I necessarily enjoy, Mother Anna does not. I like classical music, while she would rather listen to something more “hip.” She has long brown hair, while I have short blonde hair. She likes dresses, I like jeans. I like grapes, she likes apples. You know, the basic snippets that would get us wanting to strangle each other daily.

The biggest and most recognizable difference between the two of us is that Mother Anna likes change. I do not.

So, when she told me about my new and improved family, you could probably estimate my reaction.

But, the best part about this little change in scenery is that I’m going to be going to go to Cream and Gee-Fay’s school and I’m going to be working for Fred.

Don’t get me wrong, working at age seventeen isn’t unusual; it’s that working at your step-dad’s museum is. I can’t wait to see the chummy little kids wiping their grubby little hands all over the windows that I’m going to have to clean, and the Stone Age grandparents grinning away nervously as if nothing had happened. I’m so enthralled.

I got on a plane, after saying a very sorrowful goodbye to Lacey, my closest friend in my hometown. A wiry old woman gave me bedroom eyes; maybe, possibly, she is a lesbian in disguise, for she has kissed the man next to her four or five times on the cheek since we bordered the plane as her cover-up.

The little two year old that sat next to me kept pointing at me asking, “You colour?” This mere notion is very useless as the mother gathers him up in her arms and apologizes repeatedly to me, making the small boy tug on her hair in annoyance.

If only I could do that to my mother…

“Shauna, I have something to tell you.”

The said girl stomps over to her mother and takes a hold of the long auburn hair, her grasp impenetrable. A yelp is heard through the apartment as Shauna yanks harshly on Anna’s hair, bringing the helpless woman to tears.

Letting go with a sense of accomplishment, Shauna heads to the front door, grabbing her purse on her way. “I don’t want to listen to you, mother!”

And with that, she slams the door.

My life would be so much simpler if that would be practical for my mother.

Tomorrow, I’m going to start my brand new “life” at Creamy-Fay’s dump of education. I can only wish that they allow students to eat at a table and not on the ground, as I’ve heard rumors from Lacey’s prep friends. Maybe I’ll be able to learn something before I graduate, even if it is how to stalk some corn.

I’m one of the last ones to leave the plane, after letting all of the old folk past. It didn’t surprise me that no one was there to pick me up at baggage claim, leaving me to battle my bag out of the belt. Then, as if the gods in heaven perspired to get me to swear, my bag fell apart. Completely humiliated, I fell to my knees, wondering if I should walk off without it, or try to salvage my clothes.

I bury my head in my hands when I hear someone clear their throat not too far away from me. Looking up, I see a tiny old lady, nearly the size of my useless bag, towing a mustard yellow duffel bag behind her.

“Excuse me, but it seemed as if you needed a bag, dear.”

I smile at her and hop up, willing to even use the ugliest duffel in the world rather than have my undergarments on display for all the people in the airport.

“Thank you very much.”

Her wrinkly smile lit up her face. “You bet. Just make sure that you bring this bag back to the service desk by Wednesday. Don’t want to be stealing from the state, now do we?”

It was then that I realized something. She worked at the airport. She was one of those ladies that scanned your bag and told you that you had to take five pounds off for it to be valid.

Smiling half-heartedly, I plop back onto the ground, stuffing all of my clothes into the disgusting bag. As I zip the green tag up and throw my favourite suitcase away, a thought comes to mind; could this day possibly get any worse?

It’s bad enough that I had to leave the best place in the world and wind up… in Tennessee, a place so foreign and unbelievably sickish.

Really, whoever would imply that I, Shauna Soon-To-Be-Davis, would want to travel the world? Who?

But, as I stepped through the automatic doors, surprise, surprise! There stood my “family,” grins plastered on their faces and a big sign in their hands that read “Welcome Home, Shauna!”

Welcome home Shauna. Welcome home.