The car stopped, along with a giant moving van, in front of an even bigger house. I sighed, taking my earphones out. My stepdad had gotten a new job in London, and he took it, forcing the rest of the family to move there. The company gave us this house to use. I put on my black backpack and headed out to the mellow North London sun for the first time. Even though the house was gigantic, I wasn't thrilled about leaving my friends and entire life back in Croatia. A single flower on the lawn cought my eye.
"How can anything grow here?" I thought to myself.
"Carter!" my mom screamed, unlocking the door. "Help me with the bags." I went in the house after her, picking up a few bags on the way. Cat, my well, cat, ran happily after me.
"You're just happy you have a garden to poo in." I murmured to my chin. I sat on one of the chairs in the kitchen and put my earphones back in. Mom took them out the next second, sitting next to me and taking my hand.
"Carter, look," I tugged my hand out. "I know this is not easy for you. It's not easy for none of us, but we're a family, and we need to go trough this together." I rolled my eyes and looked back at my phone.
"Where's my room?"
"You get the entire attic." she said with a smile on her face like it was a good thing. I took my bag and my laptop and rushed up the stairs.
"Now I can be your shameful little secret that you keep locked up in the attic." I climbed up the stairs without another word. Like Harry Potter, only I have a room in the attic and no magic powers.
"Expelliarmus!" I hoped something would happen. "Nope, still nothing." I was completely shocked when I finally got to the attic. It had a giant bed on one side next to a window, a couch on the right next to another window and a desk in the middle. On the other side was a wardrobe and a small bathroom. It even had a balcony. So maybe I was wrong about the room, but that doesn't mean it will make my hopefully short stay here any easier. I held my laptop tightly on my chest as I was falling on the bed.
"I'm giving this place a month. That's it." I hoped I'd do something so stupid that wouldn't let my mom and stepdad another choice but to move back to Split. And yes, Split is a town. Not an ice cream sundae. I laid on the bed with my arms on my eyes until it was finally dark outside.
The next morning I woke up with tear stained sheets. I stumbled down the stairs, nearly falling a few times.
My mom chuckled when she saw me. How couldn't she? I was afraid to look in the mirror, but I was pretty sure I looked like a zombie.
"Chris is going to work and I'm going to a job interview." She threw something at me. "Here are the keys. You're alone today."
"Great." I sarcastically added.
I opened my laptop the moment they left the house. Four missed Skype calls. All from Ana, my best friend, who was still at home.
"I miss you already." her voice made me think of all the fun we used to have. Used to.
"Same here." I mubled, still half asleep.
"So, how's London?"
"From what I've seen from the airport to here, it's really rainy."
"Well, I've got to go." Ana bit her lip. "Sorry."
"Great," I sighed. "Now you're leaving me too."
"Say hi to Cat for me, okay?" she kissed the camera and hung up. Cat jumped on the counter next to me. I went to the door with my earphones in, jamming to 'One Night'. Ed Sheeran made everything better. There was a plus side to moving to London, though. Now my chances of randomly bumping into Ed on the street actually grew bigger. I walked out to my new neighborhood. It was raining. Great. I sat on the porch and looked at the houses. They were all even bigger than mine. And the cars in the driveway were definetley worth more than me. They were all BMWs, Lamborghinis, Mercedes' and other fancy schmancy brands I couldn't name. Our car looked like a Yugo compared to them.
"Bunch of styffy rich people." I said to myself, burying my head in my knees. "This ain't gonna be good." I went back in the house to get something to eat. I was spreading Nutella on a slice of bread when someone knocked on the door. I opened it. A tall teenage boy with curly hair, and a white shirt which was complimenting his nicely shaped body and black jeans was looking at me. His arms were covered in a dozen tattoos. Everything about him screamed trouble. He seemed familiar, though.
The curly boy scratched his neck. "I hate to barge in like this, and this may sound a little weird but, do you have any ice?" he smiled, revealing his dimples.
"Sorry, I just moved in. Come back in a few days, maybe I'll have some then." he put on an uncomfrtable face. "That was supposed to be a joke."
"Right." he sighed, smiling. "Bye."
"Bye." I put on my most honest fake smile and closed the door, leaning on the other side, putting a grimace on the way. I took my laptop and called Ana. After five tries, she finally answered.
"I'm back!!!"
"Hurrah." I twirled my finger trough the air.
"What happened?" except the fact that I'm thousands of killometers away from home in a city with a bigger population than my entire country?
"Nothing," I sighed. "This guy was at the door."
"What guy?"
"Tall, around 18, curly hair, green eyes, dimples," Nice, but kind of annoying smile. "lots of tattoos."
"Hmm..." She mysteriously murmured. The doorbell rang. "Wait, where are you going?" She panicked.
"You're such a drama queen, I'm only going to see who's at the door."
I waddled to the door. The curly boy was smiling at me. Again. It was really starting to go on my nerves.
"Sorry for running off without an introduction," he smirked. "I'm Harry." I heard a muffled squeal behind me. "I live next door." he reached his tattoo covered hand to me for a handshake. I crossed my arms on my chest.
"Carter." I continued, uninteresed.
"Nice name."
"Thanks."
"So, you just moved in, ha?" I affirmatively nodded. "From?..."
"Split. It's in Croatia. You probbably don't know where is it."
"Somewhere close to Spain?"
"Italy."
"Close enough. Well, I'll be seeing you around, Carter." he climbed down the stairs. Finally.
"Hopefully not." I went back in the house and sat in front of my computer. Ana looked like she saw a ghost.
"What happened?"
"Harry," she stuttered.
"Yeah, his name's Harry. So what?" I rolled my eyes again. I was gaining a new habit.
"No, Harry Styles." should that name actually mean anything to me?
"Who?"
"Of One Direction?" Great. Stupid little spoiled boyband singer's my next door neighbor. It doesn't get any better than this.
YOU ARE READING
The Girl Next Door
Hayran KurguTypical story about a typical girl who moves to a typical city. The only problem is- her next door neighbor is a not so typical guy she does not really like.