Part 1

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My phone bleeped with a text from my father: Did you get to the airport all right?

Yes dad, thanks, I replied.

I shifted around in the uncomfortable chair in the waiting area and put a protective hand on my grey suitcase. I couldn't help but appear nervous; I had never been on a trip outside my country before. 

I jumped slightly when my phone bleeped again: Have a good trip, Lee.

I hit reply and watched as the cursor blinked back at me patiently.

I typed: Okay thanks. :)

I felt awkward. This was the longest conversation we had had in a while and it wasn't even in person. As my father was always busy with work, we hardly ever got the chance to have a proper conversation. In fact, his personal assistant, Rita, had been the one to inform me about the trip to LA.

Several security checks and some waiting later, I was finally on the plane. I was seated next to a middle-aged woman dressed in a posh blue suit. Her smart attire made me feel a little self-conscious of my green lace top and worn black jeans. 

I squirmed around with enthusiasm. Finally, I had something to look forward to other than just graduating from high school. 

I am on a flight to Los Angeles all by myself!

A shrill laugh escaped my lips at the thought, causing the woman next to me to look over questioningly.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

Reclining in my seat, I drifted in and out of a restless sleep, my brain buzzing with anticipation. One rest stop and some mediocre airplane food later, I finally landed in LAX. The long flight left me completely exhausted, marking my eyes with unsightly dark circles.

A thrill of excitement coursed through me when I read a sign above the escalators that said, "Welcome To Los Angeles". My fatigue momentarily forgotten, I walked through the exit after collecting my luggage, searching the sea of people for my ex-stepmother, Claire.

"Lee!" she called out, her voice barely audible over the din of the airport. 

I looked a little to my left and found Claire waving a sign that said, "Welcome to LA, Leena!" 

She looked as fantastic as ever with her straight, shoulder length blonde hair, designer jeans, and high heels. I hurried over to her, wrapping my arms around her in a tight embrace. 

"I can't believe you made a sign for me and everything!" I exclaimed with a grin.

She laughed and asked, "How was the flight, darling? I bet you're exhausted."

Claire ushered me into a waiting taxi. Handing my suitcase to the driver, we climbed into the backseat. 

"I am exhausted," I admitted, leaning my head against the window. "But I'll be okay after a nap. Thanks for coming to get me."

"Of course," she beamed. "I'm very excited to have you here, Lee. You're going to love LA!"

I smiled back at her. 

It was a shame that she and my father chose to split, but I was glad that their separation didn't affect our friendship. She was sweet, kind, and the only one who was there to comfort me when I came back from school every day, sobbing and depressed. 

A moment later, the driver climbed into the cab's front seat. Any conversation with Claire was rendered impossible when an obnoxiously loud rap song about money and hot girls started playing through the stereo. Claire lip-synched to the song without missing a single lyric as I laughed hysterically.

Forty minutes later, we stopped in front of a gorgeous two storey house. We poured out of the cab, and while the driver fetched my suitcase, I gaped at Claire's home in admiration. After paying the taxi fare, Claire draped her arm over my shoulder.  

"So, what do you think?" she asked with a smile.

The house was all rich cream walls, green lawns, large teakwood front door, and bright geranium bulbs spilling out from yellow pots on the windowsills. A massive mountain rose up from far behind the house. I looked around and saw that Claire's home was flanked by equally beautiful houses on either side.

"It's stunning," I said sincerely.

Claire gave my shoulder a squeeze and urged me into the house. The interior was just as beautiful as the exterior, if not more. I took in the smooth wooden floors, walls painted in soft colours, the beautiful fireplace in the living room, and the tasteful furnishings.

"Leena, first things first, let me show you the security system," she pointed to the number panel beside the front door. "The code is 2-5-1-1."

My thoughts spiralled as I stared at the panel, taken aback by the passcode. 

25th November is her and my dad's wedding anniversary. Surely, she would have changed it after they split. So, why hasn't she? 

Does Claire still love him? I thought their divorce was amicable!

Why did they split, anyway? 

I was totally unaware of the reason behind their divorce. My father was too busy to talk about it, and Claire turned strangely evasive whenever I brought it up. 

Am I overthinking things? Maybe 2-5-1-1 is her passcode because it's just easy to remember. 

"Leena?" Claire peered at me with concern. "Are you okay?"

I shook my head and said, "Yes, sorry. 2-5-1-1. Got it!"

"Good. I'll show you your room. Why don't you put away your things, freshen up, and we'll have lunch after a house tour?"

I beamed at her. "Thanks, that would be great!"

Claire led the way up the wide staircase. With my baggage in tow, I followed her, thinking to myself that my trip to LA was going to be the best thing that ever happened to me.

I was half right. That trip was the best and worst thing that ever happened to me.

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