I suppose I'm pretty, in an ugly sort of way. Some people might say I'm beautiful but they don't see what I see. They don't feel what I feel. These are people who don't know me. They don't know me at all.
I live in a tourist area. It's easy to get lost in a town like ours. Most of the people who visit our area want to see the mountains and relax. They wear the faces of strangers and while they might nod in my direction if we happen to meet on the streets, they have no interest in me or anyone else. Who could blame them?
Tourists don't generally visit our little corner of the world to make friends. They stopover to breathe the mountain air, rest and relax or who knows, maybe they are running from something or someone and they just want to escape. With the natural beauty evident everywhere, there's always a place for a weary soul to wander just to clear a troubled mind.
It's actually a blessing to live in a town where so many people flow in and out, always in a hurry. I don't try to make too many friends, because I don't want people to see the real me. I'm afraid of what they'll notice if they move in too close. Since travelers come and go, it's a safe bet I'll continue to go unnoticed.
I'm a product of dismissive parents and if it weren't for a few close relationships with a select group of friends, I would be a recluse. It would be by choice. It's something I used to do well because it allowed me to escape the humiliation of rejection. All of that changed when I met Juan.
My name is Abbie Davis. Yes, it's a plain name. I've been told so before but it's mine nonetheless. I go to high school in the small town of Sevierville, Tennessee set on the outskirts of one of the biggest tourist playgrounds of the south--Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg. As I mentioned before, it's easy to get lost in a town where so many tourists wander in and out, which is why I've always felt so comfortable. It allows me to be invisible.
Even though I don't like to be in the spotlight, I've become the center of attention when I'm with my group of friends. It's really kind of cool. I can be myself around them and believe it or not, they still like me. I can't get over that small fact!
I'm a sixteen-year-old Catholic with an alcoholic father and a mother who doesn't seem to notice the obvious. I'm going to tell you more about my friends than my family because, well, they are my real family. They make living among the zombies tolerable. We call them the drunk and delusional. Yes, that would be my dad and mom. Still, don't get the wrong idea. One or two of my friends can be as dysfunctional as the biological nuts who decided to bring me into this world but I love them anyway.
We've created our own little inner circle. A secret society of sorts. We aren't particularly popular, which is one of the reasons we all get along so well together. We're kind of like a club of misfits, only we fit perfectly. Like a puzzle, I suppose.
I'm the paste that keeps us all glued together or so I'm told. It's because everyone knew me first, with the exception of the cousins. Still, the cousins didn't like one another until I came along so maybe I felt responsible for keeping them on common ground. Today, I still ask if that was a privilege or a curse. It just depends on my mood I guess.
Let me tell you about our group of holy terrors. Well, it's not as bad as all that, I just wanted to get your undivided attention. Make an impression, if you know what I mean. Now I have it, so here goes. Let me introduce you to the best people around. I don't know too many folks but those I do know are worthy of a grand introduction.
First, let me introduce Juan. If I had gone through an existence without knowing Juan, I would have missed out on a lot of living. I was backwoods-backwards until Juan came into my life. I really didn't know anyone who wanted to be around me. I struggled in school and accepted the facts as they were. I wasn't smart or as he would later tell me, gifted. However, as he pointed out after he knew me much better, I wasn't exactly stupid either. Shew, I can't begin to tell you how that made me feel!
Juan is and always has been a lot of fun. He refused to let me sit alone in my room all day. Thanks to him, I began to make better grades. He is also responsible for my realization that I had quite the nose for scavenger hunts, not to mention a great arm just perfect for throwing a football. He made sure I was a participant in life rather than merely a spectator sitting alone in the stands. Of course, some of the boys preferred to see me there when they realized I could handle a ball much better than them.
Juan became my buddy in third grade. He's been like a twin brother to me. He's the good twin. I'm the bad one. He's the smart one and I'm just the ... well ... I guess you could say I'm just the blonde one. He's Hispanic and has a laid-back temperament. He's as steady as they come, which is a southern phrase in case you didn't know.
Davina St. Clair is my best girl friend. We were in fourth grade together and became instantly inseparable. Well, not exactly. We reached an understanding. We knew it would be in both of our best interests to become friends rather than remain enemies.
We only came to this decision after she pulled my hair out in clumps on the playground because the boy she liked was pushing me in a swing. To pay her back, I decorated her beautiful braids in chewing gum while sitting behind her during reading time. She went home after a full day in fourth grade with a new look that a beautician couldn't quite fix. After both of us received much-needed haircuts, we had a mutual respect for one another. Go figure.
Davina's father is a doctor and she's a little on the spoiled side. I try my best to keep her real people. You know, grounded. It's a tough job but someone has to do it. I have appointed myself the sole party responsible for 'keeping Davina real people' but she doesn't seem to mind. Truth be told, I think her parents even appreciate it.
Her family is Southern Baptist and her father insists that she remain that way so she can't go to church with me, not that I've been in recent years. Dr. St. Clair is a deacon in their church and is well thought of in our community. In fact, he's a legend around the area because his second cousin was none other than the great Doctor Martin Luther King. I've always been impressed with that fact so I claim Dr. King as my cousin too.
When I tell people about my family history, some look at me like I'm one card short of a full house but I think Davina's heritage is really cool so I try my best to cash in on her family legacy by claiming it as my own. Of course, those who don't know us, immediately ask if Davina and I are sisters. I guess many wonder how a white chic could be related to Dr. King. When people ask if we're related, we just giggle and nod.
Davina is in love with my other life-long friend, Carlos. Her father would die if he knew. Carlos Garcia is eye candy for every young girl our age. He's just plain gorgeous. He also has several hang-ups. Once most girls our age find out about them, they run for the door. Not us though. We're friends 'til the end, bad habits and all.
Carlos definitely needs a few buddies. If he didn't have us, he'd likely meet his end sooner rather than later. We keep him on a short leash by trying to stay one step ahead of the trouble he's certain to find. Carlos has a few problems that I think he brings on himself so he and I fight a lot. Kind of like brother and sister, I suppose, but I love him just the same.
Last-but-not-least, Rajesh Hussain is our fifth wheel. We call him Raj. He's very focused on the fact that he is going to be an upperclassman when we return to school in the fall. He's Muslim so I think that's why being an upperclassman is so important. Raj says his faith has nothing to do with it. I may be blonde but I'm not stupid. I think he focuses on rank or class rank, as the case may be, because of his culture and religion. See, it even sounds smart doesn't it? Juan would be proud.
Raj had a difficult time when he first moved to the south. He moved to Tennessee right after the traumatic events of September eleventh. He was terribly shy so with the added pressure of having roots still firmly planted in the Middle East, he had some prejudices to overcome. Carrying around the last name Hussain didn't help much either. Still, I'm happy to report he adjusted well and before long he'd become just another typical southern boy. Cowboy boots and all.
I think I may be a little responsible for building up Raj's ego beyond repair. Carlos and I agree that Raj was quiet for so long, he's doing his best to make up for it now. He still doesn't talk that much but when he does, Katie, bar that stable barn door because his tongue is as quick as a whip! By the way, that stable thing? It's a southern thing too.
So after introductions, you can see where my friends are as diverse as my family which brings us back to a family member I forgot to mention. It was on purpose. Still, he's important in my life, but I wouldn't want him to know it. My brother, the hard rocking senior who thinks we're all a little nuts for being best friends. I'm the pest that he'd like to squash with the heel of his boot or at least he tells me something stupid like that a lot.
Some say my brother is a man of few words. I think he's just a guy with a lot on his mind. Girls. Girls. Oh, yes ... and did I happen to mention girls? His name is David and that's about all you need to know. What else do you expect a little sister to say about her big brother?
So there you have it. You should be acquainted with everyone. We're somewhat of a strange gang until you get to know us. Some might say we were the most unlikely group of kids to befriend one another based on obvious differences. Then again, fate had a way of putting us together for a reason. Ironically, after all is said and done, I think we were destined from the start to know one another. Some say it could have been a blessing and others would say a curse, but whatever fated hand we were all dealt, I sure am glad I had my friends.
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