'Frisco.

Chapter Six.

I sighed heavily as I fell back onto my bed. I had finished unpacking. It had took maybe 5 hours to fully complete because I had so much crap. I wasn't one to throw stuff away; I became so connected to my possessions and just didn't have the heart to rid of them. I used to have a drawer full of empty pens and drained batteries because I felt like they meant so much to me. I was a weird child, I know.

I stared up to my plain white ceiling. It was much higher than the one I had in England. Back in Ashfield, us Greens occupied a small cottage. It was tiny but that was all we needed. Previous generations managed to thrive in the house so why couldn't we? I never really understood the reason why people aimed to own massive mansions. I believe that the bigger your house, the looser your relationship is with your family. In Ashfield, there were only 5 possible rooms to be in; 2 bedrooms, a kitchen, a lounge and a bathroom. I saw my parents all day, every day. Because of that, we became emotionally closer and became almost best friends.

Here in Forest Hill, I could scream in my room and my mum won't be able to hear it from the kitchen 2 floors down. That's right – the house we currently occupy has 3 floors. I used to run out of breath going up a single flight of stairs in school. Now, I have to tackle two sets. By the time I reach my room, I usually have to take a moment to recover otherwise I would end up passing out. Ah but the benefits of having your bedroom far away from your parents; I can blast my music and nobody can hear me, I can play piano late at night and wont disturb anyone and, best of all, I can stay up late binge watching Netflix series' because my parents would never know.

"Kate! Come down, please." Mum called through the intercom. Yes, we installed an intercom in our house. Mum finally persuaded my dad to agree because, on many occasions, I have missed them calling me down for dinner. I also secretly believe that they are too lazy to come upstairs and fetch me.

"Kate!" she snapped a bit louder after realising I hadn't replied.

"Yes. I'm coming! It does take a minute to walk down a billion stairs." I groaned.

My foot touched the last step as I heard a couple of voices talking and laughing. We've only been here for just about 4 weeks and I thought my parents were too busy settling in to be making friends.

I turned the corner to see my mum and dad sat on one of the cream sofas, a woman the same age as my mother sit on the opposing one and a girl who looked about a year younger than me sitting on the fluffy white rug that mum insisted on buying. The girl was leant back into her the woman's legs whilst she braided her hair. They seemed close and I assumed they were related because they both shared the same fiery red hair. The woman stood carefully, making sure not to hurt the girl.

"Hi Kate, I'm Amanda Cole. We live about 5 houses down and I thought that we would come and welcome you after you finished unpacking because we didn't want you feeling overwhelmed and intimidated. Not that this is a scary place, no, it's lovely here..." she cut off her ramble, obviously understanding that she was talking too much. I just chuckled, confused as to why she felt the need to rant. Was she nervous?

"Hello, Amanda," I began, but she cut me off.

"Please, call me Mandy," she smiled.

"Mandy," I corrected, "thank you for taking the time to come up here. It's nice to know that we'll see some familiar faces from now on."

"This is Bonnie," she waved towards the girl on the floor who darted her emerald green eyes away from mine, "she's a little bit shy. I understand that she is just about your age?"

"I'm 18." I confirmed.

"Ah that's great! Bonnie is turning 18 next month, right hunny?" she spoke towards her daughter who silently nodded in reply. Mandy shot me a look that said sorry about her being so quiet.

"Kate," mum spoke, standing up from where she sat next to dad, "why don't you take Bonnie up to your room and show her your piano? She plays too!"

I smiled kindly towards Bonnie with my hand outstretched. Surprisingly, she took it and held on. I wondered why she was so shy. In England, the majority of girls became much more outspoken and loud as soon as they turned about 15. It was odd seeing a quiet teenager.

I gave myself a challenge; by the end of the week, I was going to have her talking to me.