Sarcasm At Its Best

Chapter 2: Californians are an Enigma

(Edited)

Quiz for return readers: Who remembers the setting mistake that had to do with transportation that I made here? 

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Apparently, I was moving. 

This was news to me. It was happy, welcomed news, nonetheless, but still pretty damn surprising. Apparently, a few weeks after the Jones family got the hell outta' dodge, my mother decided that it would be a good opportunity for our little family to get a fresh start as well. Thus, she began looking for job opportunities and homes that would be within our price range that would make it possible for us to pack up and find a new life in the Golden State. Matt's dad, who was currently building his team for a massive architecture venture, reached out with an opportunity for my mother to be part of the Accounting department in his company. 

This all apparently happened about three weeks ago, and only now was I hearing about it. 

In an effort to help me have more time to establish myself in my new environment in California, the Jones family offered for me to live with them until my Mom could finalize everything in Oregon. At first, she was very hesitant. However, after seeing the extent to which I was not coping well in school as it was, she elected to take the chance and let me head to our new home state before her. 

And thus, after packing up most of my belongings over the course of maybe three days, we arranged for most of our stuff to be moved into a large storage locker in southern California. Thankfully, the Joneses decided to help us with moving costs by finding really affordable movers and paying for the service, leaving my mother the opportunity and funds to handle the selling of our Oregon home. 

The drive from Newport, Oregon to Malibu was about twenty-two hours long, and it was incredibly uneventful. The most exciting thing was the short pit stop we'd made in San Francisco to take photos on the Golden Gate Bridge, as well as get some sleep before finishing our drive on a second day. All-in-all, things happened pretty damn quickly, and before I knew it, I had left my life that I'd always known and begun a new chapter in a completely different place. 

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Because Mr. Jones' job was paying for his move to California, a small part of me had expected (more like hoped, but I digress) the family to be residing in a massive mansion. I'd thought we would drive down a long driveway with pine trees lining each side, only to come up to a round-a-bout that circled an extravagant stone fountain. There was just an inkling of a stereotypical assumption that Matt's house would have large pillars, at least five bathrooms, and probably a home theater. 

Granted, I might have been asking for too much, but all I had to reference for what Malibu could be like was Tony Starks seaside mansion and some Criminal Minds episodes. 

Nevertheless, one could guess my slight disappointment when we drove through the most suburban looking neighborhood to ever be part of suburbia and pulled up to a medium-sized, two-story house with two cars crammed into a thin, short driveway. 

Completely unexpected, but okay then.

This revelation that I would - unfortunately - not be living in a self-aggrandizing mansion that begged the neighbors to rob it was only the latest of surprising pieces of knowledge I'd come to acquire. 

This place - southern California - was nothing like the movies, and I officially had a bone to pick with every magazine, movie director, and Instagram photographer who made me think otherwise about this light-polluted state.

I expected things to be much more like Baywatch: tank tops, flip flops, shorts, ridiculously tasty Mexican food, and tanned skin.

I could not have been more incorrect in my assumptions. 

The first thing that ruined whatever fantasized hopes I'd developed was the biting cold that greeted me when I'd woken up in the morning. Granted, our second day started us in the San Francisco Bay Area, and thus, it was way colder than predicted in the end of August. To make matters worse, by the time we'd made it down to southern California around lunch time, it was, like, eighty-five degrees. Finally, to top it all off, despite the incredibly warm weather, there were people wearing sweaters and hoodies with shorts and beanies. 

Californians are an enigma.

Matt parked the truck next to the curb in front his house as Mrs. Jones exited the front door. 

"Hi, Sweetie," she called to me, walking down her driveway with a warm smile as I hopped out of the car and made my way to meet her halfway. Her arms wrapped around me and squeezed tightly as I returned the gesture. "I'm glad you both made it safely. How as the drive?" 

Pulling away from the hug, I simply shrugged and pointed my thumb over my shoulder towards Matt, who had begun pulling some of my boxes out of the truck bed. 

"It was pretty good," I responded. "We took some photos in San Francisco at some of the tourist hot spots, and Matt had a little road rage incident because a Mini Cooper got in front of him on the I-5 for, like, forty-five minutes. Other than that, it all went pretty smoothly." 

Mrs. Jones nodded her head as a little laugh left her lips. "Well, I can't wait to see them. Matt always has problems with slow cars getting in front of him, so you're lucky it was just one incident." 

I inhaled a deep breath and pressed my lips together as I shook my head in agreement. "Yea, you're probably right about that," I concurred defeatedly. "Oh, we also stopped at that donut shop that has the really big donut on the top that Iron Man sat in - there's a dozen donuts in the front seat that we can all share." 

She smiled and rubbed my shoulder as she hummed to my comment. "That's great! I'm sure Matt's dad will be thrilled." 

"I really love it for you guys that you can catch up like this," Matt's tired voice interjected, calling our attention to where he was almost done unloading the five boxes I'd elected to bring to the Jones' house instead of putting in a storage locker. "But for the sake of time, can I get some help bringing this stuff to the guest room?" 

I slightly mocked Matt, but stepped forward and picked up two boxes nonetheless. 

My room was upstairs and relatively small. It sat in on of the front corners of the house, which was nice as there were two windows instead of one. I really appreciated it, as the natural lighting helped greatly in keeping it from feeling like a cramped space. It only took about twenty minutes to bring all my stuff in, after which we took turns showering after the long drive. 

When I was done cleaning up, I took some time to unpack a few boxes, starting with my bed sheets and desk supplies. The bed was a twin that sat against the far right wall, underneath a window. Next to the head of the bed was a simple desk with no drawers on it and a small chair in front. The closet door sat on the left wall connected to the bedroom door, and the dresser sat in the right corner of the room next to the foot of the bed. The walls were a plain white color that really did nothing to spice the room up, but that was alright. Other than homework and sleep, I couldn't see myself wanting to spend too much time there. 

Getting things situated and adding my own personal flare to the bedroom didn't take too much time, as most of my personal items were in a storage locker about twenty-five minutes away from Matt's house. Once I'd made enough progress, I elected to see if the Jones family needed any help with dinner. 

Being in a new place was surreal, to say the least. It wasn't my home, but it was going to eventually feel like home. Being around my best friend and familiar people helped, but I knew that it was only the start of a much larger adventure. 

I could only hope, as I helped Matt set the dinner table, that I would be able to handle whatever challenges I would end up facing.

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A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope that you enjoyed the chapter! For early access on chapter 3, you can check out my patreon, which is linked in my bio. 

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