Chapter One

Ana unconsciously rubbed her new piercing as she walked up the steps to the school. It was her first day at the private school her parents had decided to transfer her to. Her backpack was hanging casually off of one shoulder. The year had just started, so there were no books to weight the bag down.

Around her students walked, all wearing a similar uniform: grey skirts or pants, white oxford, yellow cardigan or vest, and grey blazer. It was the standard uniform, reflecting the Catalan colors.

Her eyes dropped to the letter she’d been sent, requesting she go to the main office before attending classes.

She located the office, and was greeted by a middle aged woman. The office was rather large, and was decorated in a contemporary style. The Catalan influence was overt, as an independence flag was hung not so subtly along the wall. The furniture was all neutral, but the accessories were all red or gold. She smiled slightly as she saw the FC Barcelona crest in the space as well throughout.

“Can I help you?” the woman at the front desk asked.

“I’m a new student here, Anabél Sanz,” she replied. The woman nodded and smiled, “Welcome to the Escola de Barcelona! Here is your schedule, and a map of the buildings, in case you get lost. I hope you enjoy your time here!”

“Gràcies,” Ana said, taking the small stack of papers from the woman. Once in the hall, she looked at her schedule.

Dia 1
7:30-9:00 – La Història d’Espanya i Catalunya
9:00-10:30 – Conversa en Anglès Avançat
10:30-12:00 – Càlcul 1
12:00-12:30 – Dinar
12:30-2:00 – Art

Dia 2
7:30-9:00 – Prolífics Escriptors Espanyols
9:00-10:30 – Física
10:30-12:00 – Català Avançat 1
12:00-12:30 – Dinar
12:30-2:00 – Art

She bit her lip, and headed toward the room also indicated on the schedule. A glance at the map put her in the right direction, and soon she found the classroom. She was one of the first students in the door, and sat in the middle of the classroom. Desks were arranged in groups of two, so she was sure someone would eventually sit next to her.

More students filed in, filling random seats around the room. At last a girl rushed in, just beating the bell, and dropped into the seat next to her.

The girl had long brown hair, highlighted with blonde by the sun, and stunning light green eyes. She wore the sweater vest of the uniform, her blazer already thrown haphazardly over her messenger bag, which she dropped carelessly to the floor.

“Hi,” the girl said with a smile, holding out her hand to shake.

Ana took it hesitantly, not sure what to think about this girl. She seemed very friendly, but she was still guarded. The brunette dug through her bag until she unearthed a pen and notebook.

“I’m Daniyah, but please call me Dani,” the girl introduced with a smile. “I’m Anabél, but call me Ana,” she returned with a hesitant smile of her own. “So, are you new to the school, because I don’t recognize you,” Dani asked curiously. She nodded, “I am.” “I bet you’ll like it here. It’s pretty good for a private school, which is saying something!” She was cut off by the teacher beginning the lesson, but by the end of the class they had compared schedules, and found they had several overlaps, namely art. They also were in the same English and Catalan class.

Ana’s first day flew by, and when two came around and the school bell rang to dismiss them, she was ready to go home.

The gravel crunched under her shoe as she walked toward the exit. “Ana!” she heard Dani yell, and paused in step to wait for her new friend to catch up. “Which way do you live?” the other female asked. She pointed, and was greeted by a bright smile, “I’m that way too! Let’s walk together.” Before she could even protest, the girl looped their arms together, and was dragging her down the path.


~~

Dani liked the new girl, she had decided after seeing the FC Barcelona bracelet and backpack, as well as the signature splotches of paint on her belongings which signaled her to be an artist. Sure enough, they shared the same double-block art class.

They walked down the streets of Barcelona, talking. They discussed their families, siblings, and pets.

Suddenly Ana came to a halt outside a smaller school building. “I need to pick up my brother,” she said softly. “I’ll wait,” Dani grinned, bouncing on the heels of her feet. The brunette girl disappeared into the building. After several minutes, she returned with a boy in a wheelchair, who was animatedly discussing his day. She couldn’t help but stare at the boy, who seemed happy despite his condition. She also noted that neither leg was in casts, so it wasn’t because his legs were broken.

When her eyes drifted back to Ana, she saw there was a change. Hardness had infiltrated her gaze, and she had tightened up in posture.

Dani realized her mistake, and quickly shot an apologetic look to her friend as best she could manage through her embarrassment.

While Ana relaxed, it didn’t completely disappear. They continued on, her brother introducing himself as Andreu.

“Ana, look – those boys are playing football!” the boy exclaimed, gesturing to the field they were passing. The three stopped, and Andreu had been right. There was a group of boys playing, and they were indeed good. Dani stopped to admire the boys who were around their age, but played at a high skill level. Andreu was watching with delighted eyes, almost unblinking.

Ana had stepped up, her fingers curling around the chain link fence that separated them, her eyes growing distant. She at last had to shake her head to pull back, and take a step away as well.

Dani knew that look well. It was the look of being torn from something loved. She saw it on both faces of the siblings when she looked closer. She had faced the same feeling when she thought she would have to give up art in middle school, and had for several years. The source of her passion had been ripped away, and she had never found a substitute for the feeling it gave her.

“Ready, Andreu?” Ana asked, breaking the silence – the sadness was disguised in her tone, but audible.

They split ways after ten more minutes of idle chat, and Dani turned toward her home. She lived in a modest condo with her mother and father, as well as the youngest of her brothers. The other two had moved out at last, which was both exciting and sad. At least she wasn’t teased as often in school.

“I’m home!” she called, seeing one car was in the driveway. “How was school?” her mom called back. “Good! I made a new friend!” she hollered back, exceedingly proud of herself.

After dropping her backpack by the door, she ran upstairs to her room, and immediately changed into her painting clothes. Her canvas stood waiting for her, oil paint already spread around in vivid colors. It was the piece she’d been working on for over a month. Several feet away sat the still life arrangement she’d made.

Dipping the brush into the yellow paint, she began again, her strokes strong but even. Soon she lost herself in the art, Juanes music playing in the background.