Y/N'S POV
My father once told me the importance of resisting influences and making wise choices. But there comes a time where I've come to understand that I am the author of my own journey. We all have our own unique journey through life. I realize that perhaps the decision he warned me of was the boy across my window. Perhaps, that boy in fact, was an integral part of my personal journey.
My father only told me that once. We never spoke of that conversation ever again. My father is a man of few words. He's carefully spoken, only spoken when he felt like it was useful.
I drop my bag into the spacious room on the left of the second floor. The thump of the bag bounces off the walls, echoing. The room smells of fresh paint.
There was only one big window in my room. Looking out the window, it faces another house next to mine. It has a small yard barricaded by an oakwood fence and a couple lights hanging around.
"Is there a specific place you want your bed to be positioned?" Asks the mover.
"Oh," I step sideways, looking around for the perfect place. "By the window is fine." I point to the left side of the room, the headboard can face there."
The mover nods, lifting up the bed with another worker, walking over the designated area. I leave the room, heading downstairs to acquaint myself with my younger brother.
There were at least nine movers in the house, each of them carrying a piece of furniture. My fathers an impatient man, he'd rather hire a million workers at once than just let a few men do the job.
"I got it." My father helps one of the men bring a large white dresser into the prolonged hallway.
"Over here." The deep feminine voice echoes, the loud steps of her heels ponder off into another room on the first floor. "And be careful with my liquor unless you're willing to pay me back for it." She ridicules the workers.
"Well, looks like I don't have shit to do." My brother rubs his stomach, pulling out his phone from his pocket and sits on the new couch our father had just purchased before moving here. He lets out a big sigh of relief, leaning back and crossing his legs.
"I'm gonna doordash some pizza. Want anything?" He looks over at me for a second then looking back down at the phone. "Yeah, pepperoni."
I spent the whole day with my family moving things around trying to settle into our new home. Now, at the dinner table, my brother tosses the box of pizza he had been craving to eat for hours onto the island counter and lifts the lid. "It's not even fresh anymore." He makes a face.
"Well, your mother wanted you to wait until the movers finished setting up the house." My father pulls back the stool, sitting down and pulling a slice off the box.
"It tastes better recooked in the oven." my mother says while her nose is stuffed in a cabinet, inspecting her wine collection on the bottom row. She pulls out an unopened bottle of Bartenura, a white wine in a royal blue bottle.
Surprisingly, she picked the cheapest bottle of the bunch. She walks over to the counter, grabbing an empty wine cup and goes back to the sink, washing it quickly and putting it down on the counter.
The table was quiet, staring down at the pizza. My eyes revert up, I watch my mom unwrap the silver foil around the bottle, toss it onto the counter and pull the cork out of the bottle. A loud pop and sizzle is the only thing that excites her nowadays, pouring the bottle ino the glass cup.
"I have to go to the city tomorrow for a meeting." My father straightens his back, wiping the napkin across this lip and running his fingers through his thick dark hair.
"Mm." Mom glances over, her eyes low, gazing at my father as if she had something to say. "I'll probably be home late." He looks into her eyes, they stare at each other.
I always figured something was going on in my parents' marriage, the long nights my father didn't come home from work my mother always seemed to find some plans to go out those same nights. The looks my father gave her, almost as if he could tell he knew there was something more going on.
"Cool." My brother says in between his loud chewing.
My mother sits up, and starts to chug down her wine quicker. She quickly pours another glass before she could swallow the rest that was in her mouth.
"Maybe you two should go out. Find something to do." My father looks over at my brother and I.
"Sure." We both say.
I get off the stool, "Thanks for dinner, Chris." I walk away, heading upstairs into my room.
The smell of paint irks my nose, I kick my slides off before I step onto the carpet. I reach for my black airpod max and put them over my head. I start playing Sex, Drugs, Etc. and turn on my noise cancelation.
I lift up my pillow, pulling out a dab pen from underneath it. I click it to turn it on a couple of times. Putting it to my lips, I inhale it for a couple of seconds until it blinks. I cough loudly, blowing out all of the smoke from my system. I drop it to my side and sit up, coughing more while reaching for a bottle of water.
I look over to the window, gulping down the water. The lights from the house across from me were on. The window downstairs revealed a well lit kitchen. I hadn't seen anybody yet but I decided to stare into their window for a couple of minutes. I inspected the area, there was a black bmw sedan in the drive through.
The neighborhood was quiet here in Eastchester. Though the houses were pretty nice.
My phone rings, I pick up facetime and smile. "Hey bitch!" My friend yells through the phone. "Y/n!" My other friend sang. "Hey guys." I lay on my stomach, resting my head on the bed, the back of my head facing the window. "We miss you so much."
It's barely been a day." I roll my eyes. "Easy for you to say. We're dying over here."
"Are there any hot guys yet?" My friend smirks. "No, I wish." I sigh, closing my eyes. "This place is already boring as fuck. I don't know why we couldn't move to the city." I mumbled. "You're like thirty minutes away from the city."
"I know." A sudden wave of exhaustion hit. "I'm going to bed, alright?" I whispered. "Boo! You're no fun."
"Goodnight guys."
a|n :
hellooo i'm back. if you guys remember my old book, im rewriting all of it. the plot is most likely going to remain the same, the book is just going to be written very differently so bare with me with the first boring chapter, it's gonna get better.
YOU ARE READING
NOVACANE
Fanfiction[ 𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑛 𝑗. ] " think of me when you look at the stars. and think of me when you look at the moon.. say it. ; 𝗜𝗡 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗛, a rich, imperfect girl finds about the boy next door. Drawn to his imperfectness, she falls down the path of his antics...
