Kendra
"Hey, guys!"
Dan's voice boomed across the canteen long before he reached the Grade 11 table. He jogged over with his tray; face lit with excitement.
Her friends all greeted him in chorus.
"Hey, Dan!"
"What's up?"
"Morning!"
Kendra didn't bother lifting her head fully. "Mmhm," she mumbled into the crook of her arm.
Dan dropped into the seat beside her, practically vibrating. "So, have you guys heard? Mr. Christie is thinking about adding our school to that abroad exchange program that happens every year!"
He wiggled in his seat like a puppy that had just heard the word walk.
"Yeah, we heard," Kendra said, folding her arms on the table and resting her head. "Your kind of doing the most over something that happens every year, don't you think? The only difference is we're on the 'abroad' list instead of local this time. Nothing special."
"That is the exciting part!" Jeah said, eyes bright. "Some of us might actually get to travel and go to school overseas."
"School abroad, woo-hoo," Kendra said flatly, lifting one arm in a limp cheer. "Like every year, I sure don't want to go. I wonder which poor fools are going to get picked this time."
"I also heard it's only going to be seniors," Dan added proudly. "That gives me a better chance of being chosen."
"Good. Fewer people to interact with," Kendra muttered.
"Oh, come on, Kendra," Jeah groaned. "Cheer up. It's the first day of school and you're already grumpy. This exchange program could turn into something good."
"If only," Kendra sighed. "My stomach's been acting up ever since I stepped on campus this morning. Something's going to happen, and I'm not going to like it one bit."
Before Jeah could answer, a deep, gruff voice rolled across the canteen.
"Alright, everyone."
They all looked up. Mr. Christie, their principal, stood on the small stage in the middle of the lunchroom with a microphone in his hand.
"Morning, everyone," he began. "Before we start our morning devotion, I want to let you know I'll be making an important announcement afterward. Only Grade 11 students should remain when devotion is over. The rest of you are to go straight to your first classes."
Kendra saw Dan's shoulders twitch as he tried, and failed, not to look even more excited.
Devotion went by like usual—thirty minutes of singing, prayer, and a short message. When it ended, the younger graders filed out, dragging chairs and bags, leaving the room strangely quiet.
"Alright, Grade 11," Mr. Christie said once the doors closed. "I'm sure you've already heard the rumors about the foreign—sorry, abroad—exchange program. I am here to confirm that it is, in fact, true. We will be announcing the five students involved in this program and explaining everything else."
The air shifted. The canteen, usually loud and restless, suddenly felt too still. Kendra kept her head on her arms, listening but pretending she didn't care.
"You will be sent to the United States," he continued, "and your plane leaves Jamaica on Wednesday at 10 a.m. Your parents or guardians have already been informed and are preparing for your departure."
Kendra's head shot up.
Already been informed?
He had to be joking.
"The students selected are: Jeah Gordon…" Jeah gasped and clutched Kendra's arm.
"…Alrreah Thomas…" A squeal sounded behind her.
"…Erica Campbell…"
"…Kendra Atchinson…"
Her heart missed a beat.
"…and Jennie Bailey. Would those students please stand and follow me to my office where I will explain further. Thank you, everyone. Have a good day."
He stepped off the stage like he hadn't just rearranged her entire life.
Kendra stayed seated for a second, stunned.
"What the hell was that?" she whispered.
"I don't know," Erica said, grinning so wide it looked like it hurt, "but we're going to the US and it's going to be awesome."
"I knew something bad was going to happen today," Kendra muttered as she finally stood. "I felt it in my bones."
Mr. Christie's office was cool and too neat, the AC humming quietly. The five girls sat in the chairs facing his desk. Plane tickets and manila envelopes were laid out in a tidy row, like a lineup of decisions already made for them.
He went through everything.
They would be living in a decent-sized two-story house in a small town in the US. Just the five of them, no guardians in the house—on purpose.
"This is to see how you behave with no direct adult supervision," he explained, folding his hands. "A social worker will visit three times a month to check on your progress, discuss any complaints about the house, the community, or the school."
The school itself, he said, was bigger than any school in Jamaica. Very expensive. Very elite. Highly respected.
Kendra felt a curse word rise to the tip of her tongue and barely swallowed it back. Elite. She could already feel the judgment from people she hadn't even met yet.
Bills would be covered by the school.
School supplies and instruments: covered.
A monthly stipend would be placed into their accounts for personal use.
"This program is an honor," Mr. Christie said firmly. "It will be very educational. We expect you to represent our school well. No embarrassing behavior. Understood?"
They all nodded. Some of them looked ready to burst with excitement. Kendra just felt like someone had taken a blender to her insides.
Once he was sure they had no more questions, he dismissed them and gave them permission to go home early.
Time to panic alone, then.
Time Skip – Norman Manley International Airport
The airport was pure chaos. It always was.
People rushed past them in every direction trying not to miss their flight, others arguing over missing luggage. A few made last-minute purchases at the gift shops. Kids ran wild while tired parents yanked them back into place. The overhead voice kept repeating flight information that barely anyone seemed to be listening to.
Kendra almost choked trying not to laugh when an old Jamaican man lightly slapped a boy on the back of the head for disrespecting his mother. The boy froze immediately, shame written all over his face. No one around them even reacted. Classic.
She sat on a bench near her gate, one suitcase at her feet, her carry-on between her legs. Her mother stood in a nearby line, buying patties for her to take along—because if Kendra was going to suffer in a strange foreign country, she deserved at least one familiar comfort in her bag.
Her friends weren't late; she was just early. An hour and a half early, actually.
She pulled out her phone and opened Wattpad, going back to one of her favorite stories: Love Knows No Weight. Her chest tightened with a mix of nostalgia and affection.
If the author ever saw this, she thought, she'd probably beg them out loud to repost it, just the way it was.
She was fully absorbed in the book when the intercom crackled to life.
"Flight 357 will begin boarding in fifteen minutes. Will all passengers on this flight please begin making their way to the gate. Thank you."
Kendra sighed and reached for her phone to call Alrreah—just as something heavy flopped onto her lap, knocking the phone from her hand and into her open bag on the floor.
"Wah do yuh, likkle gyal?" she snapped automatically. "Weh yuh woulda do if mi phone did drop an mash up?"
Translation: Girl, what's wrong with you? What if my phone had hit the floor and broken?
"Nothing more than apologize," Alrreah said, shrugging.
Kendra snorted. "An' mi woulda kick yuh so hard, you and yuh madda anyweh she deh woulda feel it."
She didn't bother to translate that one.
Alrreah didn't get the chance to reply. Erica shoved her off Kendra's lap and took her place. Kendra kicked Erica off too, sending her half onto Alrreah.
"We don't have time for games," Kendra said, standing and grabbing the handle of her luggage. "Our flight is gonna start boarding soon. People are already lining up. Look."
She pointed toward the gate, where the line had grown long in a matter of minutes.
She walked over to her mother. Saying goodbye felt suddenly heavy.
"Call me as soon as you land," her mother said, smoothing a hand over her hair like she used to when Kendra was little.
"I will, Mommy," Kendra promised.
She hugged her mother tightly, then repeated the routine with her friends' parents. After that, she headed for the line, which was now even longer.
"I know I've been here longer than half of these people," she muttered, joining the very back. "When you have friends…"
The plane ride felt longer than it was.
Minutes dragged. None of the fifteen available movies could hold Kendra's attention for more than a few minutes at a time. Her mind kept slipping away from the screen, spinning out different scenarios about what life in the US would be like.
Home life. School life. How different the food would taste. How different the people would act. All the things she had heard about Americans—good, bad, and ugly—played in her head like a rotating slideshow.
Everyone thought she was the brave one in the group. The tough one. The one who didn't care where life took her as long as her friends were safe. She was the one who would fight anyone and anything to keep them from getting hurt.
That version of her didn't get scared.
But strapped into the plane seat, surrounded by strangers and clouds and the unknown, fear pressed at her ribs. She could feel it, heavy and real.
Not that she'd ever show it.
Being scared, felt like looking soft, and Kendra did not do soft.
Still… even afraid, she felt ready. Ready for whatever the US held.
Possible bank robbery? She'd watched enough movies.
Plane hijacking? Not ideal, but she'd imagined at least ten wild escape plans already.
Being followed around stores?
Blatant public racism?
She'd heard all the stories. She'd rehearsed responses in her head. She told herself she was prepared.
She told herself she was ready.
Some Hours Later
"Oh. My. God. Look at that!" Erica shouted, her face pressed to the car window like a little kid. "Look at that deer!"
An enormous elk walked calmly along the side of the road, its antlers like a small tree.
"That's not a deer, it's an elk, you clown," Kendra said, irritation slipping into her voice. "Deer don't grow that big."
"I didn't know that nature nerd," Erica mumbled.
Kendra shrugged. "Not my fault I love animals more than humans."
"You're just antisocial."
"I'm not antisocial. People are just stupid and ignorant," Kendra replied plainly. "And because I'd like to avoid another session with my anger management counselor, I stay away from all human beings."
The others in the car laughed. Kendra didn't smile exactly, but the corner of her mouth twitched.
A Few Days Later
By their third day in the small town, they were still unpacking.
Well, the others were. Kendra had unpacked the basics and then retired very enthusiastically to "supervising" from various sitting positions. The girls had hauled half their wardrobes and then some across the ocean, while she preferred the philosophy of fewer clothes, less folding.
The town was having a carnival, and as Jamaicans who'd always wanted to experience an American one, they'd been ecstatic when they heard the news.
School had already started the previous week, but because of the late notice from their school back home, they would be starting tomorrow. One week behind. One week of missing notes, assignments, and inside jokes.
Right now, Kendra was sprawled on the living-room couch, flipping channels while the others ran around upstairs arguing about outfits.
All she knew was that they had better finish getting ready before their overly friendly neighbor showed up.
Sofia.
Kendra had privately nicknamed her The Devil Siren.
Sofia had been the one to tell them about the carnival and insist—loudly—that she take them. She was nice. Too nice. Friendly in that big, over-the-top, slightly fake way that made Kendra's teeth itch. For some reason, the woman got extra awkward around her, which only annoyed Kendra more.
She had tried to decline the invitation at first. Her friends, unfortunately, were very persuasive when they wanted something.
Right on cue:
Knock, knock, knock.
"Hey, girls! Are you ready for your very first carnival?" Sofia's loud, chirpy voice practically pierced the door.
"Ugh. Look what you guys did!" Kendra yelled up the stairs. "If you all had gotten ready earlier like I told you, we could've avoided the Devil's Siren."
She stalked over to the door and deliberately turned the lock.
Then she walked into the kitchen, grabbed a drink, and leaned against the counter, feeling absolutely no guilt.
"Uhm, guys… you accidentally locked the door instead of letting me in!" Sofia called through the door, laughing nervously.
"It wasn't an accident!" Kendra shouted back, not moving.
"Kendra, stop being so cranky and irritated all the time," Erica scolded as she came down the stairs, fixing her hair in her reflection on her phone. "You'll come off as rude and no one will want to be your friend."
"That's the point," Kendra said simply. "No friends mean silence, peace, no drama, no human interaction, no socializing and, most importantly, no one to share food with. Sounds like a life I'd enjoy—and probably kill for."
Erica rolled her eyes and unlocked the door.
Sofia stood there smiling, practically bouncing on her toes. "You guys ready?!"
"Yeah, we're ready," Erica replied, then turned and shouted, "Guys, Sofia's here to take us to the carnival! Come down so we can get in the car! You too, Kendra—get your ignorant ass in the car."
Kendra grabbed her hoodie, shoved her feet into her shoes, and followed them out.
They piled into two cars. Unfortunately, Kendra ended up in the one with Sofia. Fortunately, she had brought her headphones.
The drive wasn't long, but it wasn't exactly short either. Eventually they pulled into a huge open area lit up with strings of lights and neon signs. Rides rose into the sky, twisting and turning. Games, food stalls, music, and the loud buzz of excited voices filled the air.
Kendra hated that it looked… kind of amazing.
They entered the carnival as a group, Sofia pointing out her favorite games. They tried ring toss, shooting at moving targets, basketball hoops. They won cheap stuffed animals and plastic toys, lost even more attempts than they won, and laughed harder than Kendra expected.
It was actually fun.
Until they reached the Ferris wheel.
Kendra stopped at the base, staring up at the towering metal structure. The seats swung slowly as people loaded and unloaded, the ride glowing against the darkening sky.
Part of her wanted to go up, to see the whole town from above. Another louder part reminded her exactly what kind of body she was dragging around.
She was a big girl. Not curvy-thick in the Instagram way. Big, period. She knew her weight. She knew which chairs to avoid, which swings to skip, what rides came with the risk of public humiliation.
She wasn't one of those big girls who pretended they didn't know their limits, tried something they knew wouldn't fit, then cried later when it went badly. Kendra liked herself too much to set herself up like that.
She knew what could hold her and what probably couldn't. And right now, she wasn't convinced the Ferris wheel fell into the safe category.
"Come on, Kendra," Jennie said, tugging on her arm. "It'll be fun. We'll sit together. You'll be fine."
"Yeah," Erica added. "We're not leaving you down here alone in a strange place."
Kendra didn't want to stand at the bottom alone while they rode off into the sky. The line shuffled forward. Against her better judgment, she let them pull her along.
Bad idea.
As they were about to step into one of the seats, voices cut through the noise.
"Damn, girl, you really think you can fit?" a muscular boy standing with a small group called out, loud enough for people around them to hear.
Kendra froze.
"I think she knows she can't fit and is going to try squeeze herself in anyway," the skinniest boy added, grinning. "You know how big girls get. 'I'm not fat, I'm just big boned, I can fit.'"
A harsh laugh escaped Kendra's throat before she could stop it.
She turned slowly to face them. "I know that skinny, stick-looking motherfucker is not talking about me."
Jennie's fingers tightened around her arm, trying to pull her attention back to the ride. "Kendra, leave it. It's not worth it."
But Kendra was already hot.
"Bitch, who you calling skinny, you cow-looking whore?" the skinny boy snapped back. "I might look skinny from far, but I'm more muscular up close. Why don't you come down here and see for yourself and have your ass dropped like a watermelon?"
The carnival noise seemed to fade to a dull hum around them. The metal of the Ferris wheel creaked. Lights flashed in the corner of her vision.
Kendra's fists clenched at her sides.
He had no idea who he was talking to.
And she was just about ready to show him.