Prologue, Appreciate

Claire put down her pencil and sighed. Her first week in high school was finally over. She looked down at the homework the new math teacher had assigned the class and frowned. She didn't get any of it. How was she supposed to know how to calculate an angle? She could tell already she wasn't going to be good at math. She picked up her pencil again and doodled something in the corner of her notebook. She was just finishing the arrow attached to the heart when she heard a quiet sobbing coming from downstairs in the kitchen. Claire stopped scraping her pencil across the paper and listened carefully. Wasn't her mom the only one home? The sobbing was coming closer. She was just about to stand up and ask what was wrong when the sobbing stopped, and her door slowly opened. It was her mom. Her face was red and her mascara smudged across her cheeks. With sad eyes and a slumping figure she opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it again. Claire gasped, quickly stood up and walked to her mother.

'What's wrong? Are you okay? Are you crying?' She had never seen her mom like this before.

Her mother took another step towards Claire and closed her arms around her. Holding her tight, her face pressed into Claire's hair, she whispered:

'I don't know where to start. I don't want you to feel bad.'

Claire had no idea whatsoever what her mom was talking about. Why would she feel bad?

'I got a call tonight. A police officer... It's your dad.' At the word "dad", her voice broke and another big sob came out. Claire froze and pushed away from her mom. The panic was clearly visible in her face, her hands started to tremble.

'What happened to him?' she asked with a shaking voice. When her mother just shook her head, Claire lost control.

'Is he okay? Why isn't he home yet? Mom, tell me where he is!' she screamed, her voice getting louder by the second. But she didn't need an answer, she could see it in her mother's eyes. He was gone. A disturbing emptiness filled her body and with it, her life shattered into tiny little pieces. She sat down on her bed and swallowed back the lump rising in her throat. Her eyes started to sting, but she pushed away the tears. Furiously wiping her hand across her nose, she refused to let go of the last bit of control she had left. No crying, she whispered to herself. No crying.

That was 2006, she was twelve at that moment. The day after, a man came knocking at their door, the bringer of bad news they already knew. Like a bringer of rain that had already fallen. It turned out Claire's dad had been driving fast to get home soon. After all, he hadn't seen his wife and daughter since he left to go on a business trip two weeks ago. He wanted to make a quick call to his boss on his phone, but he never made it through. There was a truck, and then there was a crash. The ambulance came just in time to catch him saying that he loved his family and that he wished his daughter a sweet sixteen. When they heard that his daughter had just turned twelve years old, they hadn't understood. But Claire knew what he meant. She was always talking about how she wanted a big party when she turned sixteen. Sixteen, it would be the year of change. And the one big wish that came with the party was that her dad would be there. He was always working. Working, working, working. Always busy with his business, and almost never home. Now it was official, he would never be there. And the sweet sixteen turned out to be a sucking sixteen.

Her "sweet" sixteen had been a week ago. Obviously, her dad hadn't been there. And obviously, it hadn't been much of a party. She knew her dad wanted her to make what she could of life, he used to say to her when she was little: "Life is too short, so take the time and appreciate." But she hadn't felt the need to throw a big party when there was nothing to celebrate. She'd turned sixteen, yay, let's all move on now, please. Besides, all of her friends had moved away over the summer, and by all of her friends she meant two, and she had no one to celebrate with. Except her mom. And her cat, if that counts. She had gotten the DVD of the Jonas Brothers live concert experience and the two latest albums, the ones she asked for. The Jonas Brothers were one of the things that kept her going. The day her father died, she'd turned on the radio and the song "One day at a time" had blasted out of the speakers. Tears had welled up. Such emotion in those lyrics. And as all the Jonas Brothers fans know is that, ones a fan, always a fan. Claire Porter, official OJD patient. Tomorrow it was going to be her first day in her new class. New people meant new friends. And new friends meant new adventures.

Claire could not have imagined what was waiting for her.