Chapter Text
I stared out the window at the unfamiliar street that we passed. My shoulder-length chocolate brown hair hung in a low ponytail against my neck, complete with a royal blue scrunchie. I slumped back against the seat of the car. This was getting uncomfortable. I’d been trapped in this stupid car for hours.
My dad looked at me in the rearview mirror. “We’re in the new neighborhood! You excited or what?!?” I gave him a very hard dramatic eye roll. He got the point and put his eyes back on the road.
Hey. My name is Catherine Parr and I’m 13 (and a half) years old. Tomorrow, I’ll be starting 8th grade. I’m moving to a new town because my dad changed jobs. I don’t miss much about the old town, it wasn’t all that special of a place, but I’ll miss my best friend, Henry.
As I watched the neighborhood through my window, I did a double take. There was a girl, she looked to be about my age, sitting on the steps outside one of the houses. She looked nice enough, but also had a somewhat sassy air, as if she wanted the whole world to know that she wasn’t afraid to show them who was boss.
She wore a black pleated skirt and a bright green top with a darker green heart emblazoned on the front, and matching stud earrings. Her dark hair was half up, half down, with two space buns on the top of her head, the rest of her long straight hair hanging loose around her shoulders and down her back.
I turned to my mom. “Hey, who’s that?” I asked her, and pointed out the window as my dad slowed the car and pulled to a stop in the driveway for the house to the right of this sassy green girl. My mom followed my gaze and smiled.
“Oh, it’s just that Boleyn girl,” she said. “Her mom works with your dad. Maybe you two could be friends. I think she goes to your new school.”
I remembered yesterday when my dad had told me about a girl my age who lived next door to us. Anne Boleyn, I remembered. That was her name. I thought that being friends with this ‘Boleyn girl’ might be kinda fun, but I kept it to myself.
I opened the car door and stepped out. The first thing I did was look in Anne’s direction. She looked up and grinned the biggest grin I had seen in a while. It was a cute grin. She lifted her hand and waved to me.
I waved back, and I was about to introduce myself when a woman’s voice (probably her mom’s) drifted from somewhere inside her house. “Anne, dinner!” Anne turned, smiled at me again, and then went into her house, closing the door behind her.
My mom called my name. “Earth to Cathy.” She said, chuckling. “Come on inside, I need to get dinner started and I don’t want you standing out here without bug spray, you’ll be eaten alive by mosquitos.” I stepped over the threshold to our new house, and I was hit by a wave of air conditioning, which was a relief.
I glanced around the house. There was a little vase with flowers in it sitting on a small end table, a staircase to my left, and a little way in front of me was the doorway to the kitchen.
“Wait…” I said slowly, realizing something. “Where are all of my boxes?” My dad poked his head out the kitchen doorway.
“I dunno, go look upstairs.” He said cheekily. My curiosity got the better of me and I headed up the stairs. At the top of the stairs, I walked across a hallway and pushed open the door to my new room. What I saw caught me off guard. I knew my parents had been to the house after they had bought it before I was allowed to go see it, but I didn’t know they’d had enough time to do this. My room looked incredible. It was about the size that you’d expect a 13-year-old’s room to be, but my parents had taken the time to make it look pretty great.
When I first walked in the door, to my immediate right was my desk with my laptop sitting on it, above which hung a wall calendar. The walls were painted sky blue, and a poster for my favorite band, The Color 7, hung above the headboard of my white full-size bed, which was just a few feet along the wall from my desk. On the far wall of my room were two massive bookcases that went from floor to ceiling. They were already three-quarters of the way full of the books that I had sent ahead of us. My parents were officially the best.
Opposite my bed was the best feature of my room. Glass doors with silver handles, which led to a small balcony. I figured that as long as I had some time, I could at least take a look outside. I pulled open the glass double doors and stepped out onto my tiny balcony. Outside on the balcony, my parents had hung a pair of navy blue curtains, and wrapped fairy lights around the concrete railing. The view of the sunset was beautiful, but that wasn’t the first thing I thought about.
The first thing I thought about was the almost identical tiny balcony immediately to my right. It belonged to a different house, but the houses were close enough together (think townhouse, but bigger, and with the smallest side yard in the universe) that if I had been a more adventurous person, I could have climbed onto my railing and jumped onto the other balcony. But I wasn’t, so I didn’t.
I looked more closely. It really was almost identical to mine. It also had a string of fairy lights wrapped around its handrail, and a pair of curtains hanging in the entrance. The curtains were lime green. Oh, I thought. It hit me. That balcony belonged to Anne’s bedroom.
Then, from somewhere downstairs, I heard a quiet, ding-dong! I heard the door open, then after a few seconds, my mom said, “Cathy, come meet the new neighbors! They live down the street.” I made my way out of my room and down the stairs.
Standing in the front doorway was a blond woman, in a clean white dress, accompanied by a second blond about my age dressed similarly to her mom, holding a bouquet of bright pink roses. The woman turned to me. “Hello, I’m Mrs. Seymour,” she said, with a smile like an overexcited kindergarten teacher. “This is my daughter.”
The girl with the flowers said, “Hi! I’m Jane!” Then she handed the flowers to my mom and said, “We brought you these as a housewarming gift, Mrs. Parr. I hope you like them!” She grinned widely, showing off every tooth.
My mom was about to thank her when Mrs. Seymour said, “Catherine, just let me know if you’d like to play with Jane. You’re welcome to any time! Goodbye now, it’s time for Jane to get ready for bed.”
I glanced at my mom. It was 7:30 in the evening. Jane waved, and then Mrs. Seymour closed the door and left.
My mom broke the silence. “Well, she was… a character.” She said pointedly.
“...yeah,” I said. I made my way back up the stairs to my room. I would rather have met Anne. She would have been more interesting.