Chapter Two - Moving In

26 1 0
                                    

(Y/n's POV)

📦 📦 📦

It's 8:30am and I've been sitting in the car since 5am. It's only the very start of moving day and I'm already exhausted. We took the train to the airport - because we already had the car delivered to New York. The plane ride was only 2 hours, and we only packed a bag of essentials, so I'm not sure why I'm so tired - it might just be nerves. Luckily it's just my mum, my cat, and I, so we don't have too many boxes.

The movers van went up to New York yesterday, so they could start unloading and moving the boxes a little while before we get there, which should be soon. Well, my mum should get there soon - I'm taking a detour to meet up with my cousin, Ayla, who's been looking after my car.

I doze off to the rocking of the car, but it's only for a few seconds - or it feels that way at least - and then mum wakes me up by telling me we're at Ayla's house. She has a nice house; it's small and cozy, it's a bit like a cottage. It looks out of place compared to all the other modern houses and skyscrapers surrounding it. But Ayla's always been a bit of an oddball.

I say a quick goodbye to my mum and let her know I'll be spending the day here with Ayla, and I'll help unpack when I get home at around 5pm, before hopping out of the car to greet my cousin.

Ayla is about 6 years older than me, but she's been my closest friend since I was a little kid. I was really sad when she moved away for work, but now she's only about a ten minute drive away. Her bright red ponytail whacks me in the face as she wraps me in a bone-crushing hug.
"Hey, y/n!! I have so much to tell you!" She squeals with her world-renowned enthusiasm. I hug her back tightly and laugh at how she still acts like a kid, then I quickly glance into the open garage - thank goodness my car is still in one piece. It's a vintage, blue Volkswagen Beetle - and it cost a damn fortune. It took a lot of shifts in fast food to save up for that bad boy. Tearing my eyes away, Ayla grabs my hand and drags me inside. The sweet smell of pancakes immediately hits me.

📦  📦  📦

We spend most of the day catching up with each other and fan-girling over the Avengers. I was so nervous about the move that I completely forgot I was moving to the place where they live!! Ayla's favourite is Loki, which I understand, but personally, I like Spider-Man. And yeah, he might not officially be considered an Avenger, but he's still my favourite.

In the afternoon, Ayla lets me drive my car around while she's in the passenger seat - I'm only on my Ls, and she points out some op shops and cafés and bookstores that she recommends, before directing me to her favourite gelato shop. I park on the side of the road and we head into the shop. Its walls are painted lime green, and the countertop has green and white stripes. It's very retro. I pick out my favourite flavour and Ayla picks out watermelon, then we sit at a table near the window and just talk and eat for a while.

The next time Ayla checks the time, it's already 4:50, so she tells me that it's time to get going. Suddenly I get a knot in my stomach and my palms break out in a sweat. What if I don't like our apartment? What if we have really loud and rude neighbours? What if everyone at school hates me? What if the movers lost all my boxes? I panic. I've tried to stay calm and distracted since I heard about the move. I didn't have many friends at my old school, so that wasn't a big deal for me, but there were a million other things to worry about - all of which I'd pushed out of my mind until now.
"Y/n?" Ayla questions, tapping my shoulder. She's standing up with her bag on already.
"Oh yeah, sorry." I apologise quietly, standing up and trying to push my thoughts aside.

I hop into the driver's seat and start the car, wiping the sweat off my hands. Ayla tells me where to go, and in about 5 minutes, I'm at the apartment complex. We hop out of the car and Ayla gives me a quick hug before saying goodbye. I look up at the complex - it's a lot bigger than I imagined. Swallowing my anxiety, I walk inside and head up to the sixth floor.

A Rose Among ThornsWhere stories live. Discover now