Over the Moon Read Free

me to live here. My light skin
limited my ability to endure all this direct sunlight. I didn't belong
here in this scorching heat. I felt totally out of place with all these brown-skinned teenagers. I knew some of them were Paiutes who
came from the Shivwitz Indian Reservation, some were children
of Hispanic migrant workers, and some were children of ranchers.
There was a diverse population of other students, and even they had
tans to die for. It just wasn't fair. I might as well be screaming "new
girl" at the top of my lungs or wearing a neon sign flashing the words
"Not from here!"

    I parked my i99g, white Honda Civic in the school parking
lot. You might think a doctor's daughter would get to drive a newer,
nicer car, but I didn't mind. It wasn't pretty, but it had air conditioning that worked. What else really mattered when the temperature
stayed above a hundred degrees for four or more months of the year?
Most of the cars were similarly older makes and models. The parking lot was filled with nondescript, white, tan, or silver, ordinary cars.
I was glad. I didn't want my car to stand out like I was undoubtedly
going to.
    With serious trepidation, I walked around to the front door of
Hurricane High, home of the Tigers. Who named this town Hurricane in the middle of an and desert? They pronounced it Hurricun,
and they corrected you if you said it wrong. Anyone who was new
would say it wrong. It was like some kind of new person trap. Then
they would look at you like you were the crazy one.
    I found my way to the front office. The secretary was a large,
motherly woman with gray, frizzy hair. I bravely approached the
counter. I might as well get it over with. There was no escaping my
dire destiny now.
    "You must be Dr. Dawson's daughter, Tina."
    "Tiana," I corrected.
    "Of course, my mistake. Here is your class schedule, dear. Thanks
for registering online. It saves so much time." She handed me a map
with all my classes highlighted and pointed me toward my first class,
American history, which was just down the hall.
    "You're just going to love it here, sweetie." I sincerely hoped she
was right, but I knew that I was more than likely going to hate it. I
managed a feeble smile as I thanked her.

    It really sucked big time to be the new girl in a small school like
this. There was no place to hide. Everyone in the hall was staring at
me with morbid curiosity. Had I suddenly grown a third eye? No,
that was just that stupid pimple in the middle of my forehead. Surely
I wasn't the only new student here, was I? I looked at the floor and
tried not to blush under their intense scrutiny. Of course, I failed
miserably, feeling the unwelcome warmth as blood rushed and colored my face with red, hot, unwanted embarrassment.
    I entered Mr. Stanley's class and sat in the back, trying hard to
blend in. There was little chance of that happening here. A Hispanic
girl with flawless skin and a bright smile sat down in the desk next
to me.
    "Hi, I'm Tiffany. You must be the doctor's daughter from
Chicago."
    "That would be me. I'm Tiana." I smiled cautiously.
    "How do you like the desert?" she asked.
    "It's hot!" I didn't know what else to say. I hadn't formed a rocksolid opinion of this desert community yet. I wanted be fair and
objective. Ah, oh, now I was lying to myself. The truth was I didn't
want to share the fact that I hated it more with every breath of hot,
dry air I inhaled and risk offending her.
    "Yes, it is, and you are going to need a lot of sunscreen. I've never
seen such beautiful porcelain skin." She laughed. At least she hadn't
called me an albino freak.
    "I was thinking I'd like to trade for yours."
    Mr. Stanley called the class to order and passed out a syllabus.
He droned on about how fascinating American history would be for
all of us. I wasn't buying it. I could tell a lot of my fellow students
must feel the same way. Were they all wishing they were someplace
else? Maybe we did have