ambit. [hs au]

Prequel | Cookies and Soda

Birdie's journal.

2006, June.

Are you aware that the British call drug stores chemists?

Or that for them, ATM's are called Cashpoints?

What if I tell you they call eggplants fucking aubergine?

And even worse, sausages are called bangers.

Fucking bangers, dude.

This cannot be happening to me. I mean, yeah, my whole life I used to watch movies and series and simply melt over the British accent. I was really a simp for English bands and I absolutely love Harry Potter, but hey, did I ever want to go to fucking Hogwarts?

Nope.

Everything about the UK was so attractive to me, at least until that one afternoon when I got home from school to find my parents waiting to have a serious conversation.

They sat with me and offered me some french fries - or, should I say, chips? - and I immediately knew I was in trouble. I mean, French fries in the middle of the week? Not likely for the Huffines. Weight maintenance is kind of a big deal for my family, so having junk food on a Wednesday could only mean one thing - trouble.

I was about to start defending myself when I realized I wasn't the one who did wrong. In fact, mom and dad even tried to pass it for good news, but I knew better; in that moment, my life was over.

Dad had gotten a big promotion at work, with a significant increase of income, which meant we would be moving to a two-stores house and I would finally have my own room, instead of having to share it with my younger sister, Dot.

It was a good cover up - for a moment, I was just so happy. Being the middle child of three girls in a house with only two bedrooms, I've never had my own room. Ever since I was born, I had to share it with Getty, my older sister, and I tell you, it was no fun. I was beyond happy when she turn 18 and went away for college, I thought I would finally have my own room and all my parents attention to myself, but surprise, surprise - my mom was pregnant again, and 9 months later, I was sharing a bedroom with a screaming baby who stole all the family's attention.

I tell you, being the middle child sucks.

Anyway, as I said, the whole you're having your own room was just a cover up. I barely had time to enjoy the news until they finished their sentence.

I was having my own room, in a two-store house, in fucking England.

Dad's new position was to lead the I.T department of his work's branch in the UK. And that's how I ended up moving across the Atlantic and leaving all my friends behind, to go live in a foreign country where people call sausages bangers, at the age of 13.

A fucking nightmare, if you ask me.

2008

With a little giggle, Birdie closes the journal she just found amidst room-cleaning. She was just so dramatic when she was 13, acting as if her life was ending because of an address change. She remembers truly believing it when they arrived Thirskot, the 18.000 habitants city her parents moved to and forced her to tag along.