Goodbyes 

  I gave Victoria a hug as she sniffled and wiped her tears away. I didn’t want to seem mean, so I held on as long as she did, but I was itching to go and her thick hair was nearly blocking off my airway. “Bye, Delia,” she said in my ear. “I’ll miss you so much.”  

  “Me too,” I whispered back, though it was only slightly true. I was ready to get out of this place, even though I would miss all of my friends of six years. I was done with all the Trumpers and annoying kids that I didn’t like. Victoria let go and I backed away slowly, groaning internally when the Gurreros – family friends - knocked on our door. Victoria and her family left, and I knew I would most likely never see them again. I heard later that her younger brother, one of my best friends, was very sad that he didn’t get to say goodbye to us, because he was at a friend’s house. I didn’t care at that moment. I just wanted to leave. Leaving without saying goodbye would’ve been fantastic. Made it feel less real.  

  However, my sister Aven was best friends with their daughter Analee, so of course, we let them in, and they chatted for a few minutes after Victoria and her family left. Eventually, Annabel (Mom Gurrero) smiled and clapped her hands together. “Well, we don’t want to keep you. Let’s take some pictures and then you guys can leave.” I would have appreciated empanadas, or some of her mom’s delicious tacos. But I guessed I could take pictures too. We all lined up outside, desert wind blowing our hair into our faces, dirt drifting over us. The small school was behind us, the mountains tall in the distance. This had been my home for six years, but I was ready for something else. We finally got my other sister, Nova, to stop squirming long enough to take pictures, which required me holding her arms down. Her hair still blew into my face and I had to spit it out, which must've made for lovely pictures. Hugs were given, goodbyes exchanged, then we finally got into our beautiful truck (that I had begged for for months) and drove away, out of Nevada and toward humid New Jersey.  

In Transit 

  It was finally time. My stomach was fluttering. My eyes were wide, and I couldn’t keep a smile off my face, despite the fact that we had just sold our truck that took me months of begging to get. After we stayed in New Jersey for a few weeks with my Oma and Opa, my mom’s parents, we loaded up all twelve or so of our bags and headed to the airport. It was time for goodbyes again. I hugged Oma and Opa, thinking I would see them again in Albania soon, like the next year. Little did I know there would shortly be a virus running amuck, but for then, I stayed in blissful unawareness. “Bye, see you soon,” I said to them before waving and walking into the airport with the rest of my family.  

  “Bye, love you!” they shouted back, blowing kisses and waving.  

  The rest was a blur. I remember watching Big Hero 6 on the long flight, and walking through airports in a daze, but none of the other details stand out to me from that twenty-four-hour madness. All I know is I showed up to Albania in a sleep-deprived, dehydrated state, my hair a mess and my eyes half open.  
 
Albania 

  A couple of people from the school that my parents were going to work for came to pick us up in a giant van. We loaded up and started the drive into the city. Even in my half-asleep state, I could appreciate how cool this place was. There were shepherds on the side of the road, and we had to slow down a couple of times to wait for them to cross the road. The city was big, bigger than anywhere I’d ever lived, which wasn’t saying much. My old town was maybe four hundred people. Most of the drive was spent in a half-awake fog, but I woke up a little when we arrived at our house.  

  “Wow, this place is big,” Aven said in awe, looking around our new house. It was much bigger than the trailer that we lived in before. Let’s just say... our old place was not the best. Our new house even had a second floor, which was not something I was accustomed to. Having to go up and down stairs to get things? No thanks.  

  “This is crazy,” I muttered, collapsing on one of the red couches. Nova fell on top of me, closing her eyes and curling up like a cat. “We can’t sleep yet, the people are still going to take us to school,” I told her.  

  After we unloaded all our bags and suitcases, Arbor and Bjanka drove us to the school. Tirana International School was very large, and I knew I would have a hard time finding my way around. Its arches and balconies totally gave the impression of a hotel, and I nearly lost my mind when I saw all the outdoor space. There was a big soccer pitch and multiple playgrounds. My old school had a rusty slide and some monkey bars, not to mention the crumbling cement court.  
 
Unboxing Day 
 

  My stomach was a little unsettled as we drove our new car to school. A shipment came in from the U.S. of school supplies, and teachers and staff were coming to help sort and unbox them. This would be my first time meeting other staff kids. What if they sucked and I was all alone in a new place? “Breathe,” I whispered to myself, and Nova gave me a weird look. I stuck my tongue out at her. 
 

  We arrived and I first saw the Kalua twins, half-Hawaiin, half-Kansas, who would be in my class and who I had already met earlier that summer. Then I met Carver, a skinny American kid who would be two classes above me and had some strange obsession with soccer. Next, I met Kai, half-Asian, half-American, who quickly became my best friend. We were stuck together like glue within a couple weeks. There were so many different nationalities already, myself, with tri-citizenship, included. We all hit it off. It was overwhelming. Exciting. Scary. 
 
Staff Kids 

  In the few days before school, I met a few other staff kids. Jack and Vera Stalker, both best friends of Carver’s. I was intrigued immediately. I had never met Asian people before that; my town was entirely Hispanic and white people. “Yo, I’m Jack Stalker,” Jack said, or at least that’s what I heard in my head. He made it clear within the first five minutes that he was into video games, adopted, and Filipino. It was also made clear shortly thereafter that he was obsessed with working out. He bragged that he hadn’t eaten candy in a year. I saw candy wrappers at the bottom of his backpack and raised my eyebrows. “Memories.” Jack answered my unspoken question of why on earth he had a bunch of candy wrappers in his backpack. 

 “Hi, I hate you,” I had replied immediately after I met him. It was a defense mechanism. I’m really a very friendly person, you just have to get past my evil exterior.  

  “Very cool, Dora,” he replied. I rolled my eyes. I did not look like Dora. Okay, so maybe my hair was bobbed and at the moment I was wearing orange shorts and a pink shirt... but still. 

  I pretend-hated Jack for a while of course, understandably. I didn’t know that he would become like a big brother to me, but who would’ve? Vera was fine, and I became friends with her faster than with Jack. I warmed up to the staff kids quickly. And they were not horrible, like I feared. Quite the opposite. They were horribly wonderful people. What have I gotten myself into? I thought as Jack started Fortnite dancing. Something great, or terribly heartbreaking? That’s the thing with international schools. It’s always both.