Leaving Boston was the best decision I had ever made. I had been there for the entire twenty years of my existence and I was pretty fed up with it all; the fake bitches that roamed around the town, the wannabe gangsta’s with their non-existent belts and their hands constantly in the crotch of their trousers. I had lived with them for all of my life and when I was finally given the option of getting away I practically jumped at the chance.
It all happened one fateful Friday night. I had been on Tumblr for the past five hours and I was just about ready to actually get some sleep when I saw that one of my Tumblr friends, Ana, was selling her house. As I was very close to her I asked if she wanted to video chat for about twenty minutes or so. Of course she accepted and after the normal greetings between us we began to talk about her moving house.
“So what made you decide to move away from London, if it’s alright to ask?” I asked in a normal tone, not wanting to sound too excited or hopeful. She looked at me, taking in what I had said before calmly opening her mouth to speak.
“Um,” She started timidly, I could tell that it was a sensitive subject, “well I’m moving to Spain to be with my mum as my dad died a couple of weeks ago and I said I would move in to keep her company”. I was startled. I didn’t know that her parents were living in Spain. I never thought to ask her.
“Oh, God I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have asked-” I began. She interrupted me before I could finish.
“It’s alright, he wasn’t really my dad I just call him that because I never really knew my own. My biological father left my mother when he found out that she was pregnant. Why do you want to know anyway? Are you interested in the house?” She looked expectantly at me. Damn, she knew me so well. She knew that I’d always wanted to live in London as I think it would be a great place to build up my photography portfolio with all its landmarks and famous places to visit and photograph.
“Ha, you do know me well, don’t you?” I smiled. “How much are you selling it for?” I asked quickly before she could tell me if someone had bought it already. She grinned and answered me just as quickly.
“It’s a really good house, perfect condition and I’m leaving most of my furniture there for the person I’m selling it to because I won’t need it when I move out. I’m selling it for £300,000 as it’s secluded and private; it has a garden and it has a great view of those landmarks you want to see so badly. I think it’s a perfectly reasonable and I’ve had some people round to evaluate it and I’m selling it for about a third of the price it’s worth so…do you want it?” She sounded so urgent that I couldn’t turn this amazing offer down. I decided that I would pay a little bit more than the asking price so that she has enough to live on in Spain.
“I think I will. Do you think you could send me some photos of it? Although the photos don’t really matter I can always change things in the house if I want to. I’ll pay a bit more for it too so that you have plenty of money to live in Spain. I’ll pay £350,000; just so that you pick me instead of other potential buyers.” I grinned cheekily and she laughed and said that it was a good idea.
The next day I looked through the photos before my friend that I was staying with in Boston got up out of bed. The house was amazing; it had three decent sized bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen and a front and back garden. I was pretty thrilled looking through them. ‘I’m moving in there soon; I can’t wait to tell Hope’ I thought to myself, feeling a tingle in my fingers and little butterflies in my stomach. At that moment Hope herself came into the room with two cups of tea in her hand. She placed mine on the table and looked over my shoulder slyly.
“What’s that?” She asked. She sounded pretty rough; and looked it to be honest. She had dark circles around her eyes from lack of sleep and she stifled a yawn behind her hand as she spoke.
I felt kind-of guilty; I’d just introduced her to the Internet. No I don’t mean just Google and other websites that normal people go on; no I mean the most addictive website that I have ever been on…tumblr. At first she didn’t understand it at all so I managed it for her but then she began to get the hang of it. I helped her with her theme and all the stuff she wanted on it and she spent the next 24 hours trying to sort it out on her own. The day after this she came to me looking absolutely exhausted but looking fairly exhilarated at the same time; I knew that she’d finally figured it out. Soon after, she became the most Internet-obsessed person I have ever known. She became even more addicted than me (and that was a hard thing to do). She was on her laptop non-stop and was staying up at all hours. She also began to conform to the rules of the tumblr society and watch popular programmes such as Supernatural and Sherlock, both of which she had never seen until she became a true Internet freak.
I smiled up at her, “I was just about to tell you; one of my Internet friends is selling her house in London and I’m going to take the offer”. She looked horrified and I suddenly felt guilty for even considering it. The house we were living in at that moment was originally mine. She came to move in with me a few months before-hand when she came back from living with her then-boyfriend, Jack.
I remember when she first came back to Boston; it was actually on the night of my 20th birthday and I was just getting ready to go out and get mildly inebriated with my slightly-older friends Oliver and Zoe. I remember having my eyes closed while Zoe did my eye-shadow and Oliver coming into the room, telling me that there was someone here to see me. I blinked and Zoe accidentally poked my eye-lashes forward. I blinked even harder and opened my other eye. Zoe apologised and I just laughed. I then looked towards the door and sure enough, there was Hope just standing there looking guilty, only holding a suitcase and a handbag on her arm; when she’d left her home over two years ago she only took the essentials with her so most of her things were still at her old home.
As you can possibly imagine, I flipped out (she didn’t even remember my birthday). I thought it was quite rude that she came to my house on my birthday, purely to ask for a place to stay and to borrow some money. She eventually burst into tears and apologised. Because I’m me I forgave her and she moved in. I wouldn’t say I regret it; I just wish I’d have been less like me and more stern before accepting her apology. She put me through a lot and she wasn’t there when I needed her so I wanted revenge. But yes; me being me, I accepted her apology straight away, let her sleep on the sofa and then invited her to come out with us and even letting her borrow some of my clothes.
I hate how nice I am sometimes.
