Troubled

Chapter 1 - Mornings aren't my thing.

It was too bright, the light piercing, and it was too warm. The buttery, overly toasty sunlight seeped through my closed eyelids. Eyes still closed, I could hear my labored breathing, amidst the irritating, loud beeps of my alarm clock.

My hand slammed on the top of the clock, shutting it up. Finally granted silence, I concentrated on my slightly raspy breath. I willed myself to go back to sleep, but sometimes my body defies my mind.

My head was spinning painfully. At first I was so dazed, that for a second I didn't remember where i was.

It was then after my eyes cracked slowly open, squinting because of the extreme brightness, looking around at the white dresser and the acid-yellow sunflower picture hanging on the wall, that I knew I was in my dad's old semi-detached in London.

I should have remembered from the beginning.

New York rarely had those "simply cold" days, especially at this time of year, when it was winter and the whole city would be unreasonably and unflatteringly freezing and blanketed with a foot of snow.

I buried myself deeper into the soft, downy comforter, covering my face. The sIt was so heated, I could smell my perspiration and feel that the back of my tank top was soaked. I must have blasted the heater on too high last night.

Ugh. I hate mornings. I was never a morning person. Ever. But I still had to wake up, right? Oh come on, Nicole! Snap out of it! I finally stood up and rubbed my sore, sleepy eyes, trudged into the bathroom and showered.

The house was quiet except for the comfortable hum of the washing machine that could be heard faintly from the basement. Dad had said that today he would be visiting an old friend of his in Lancaster. He would travel by train, because Lancaster was two hours away, so he wouldn't be back till dark.

I took my white fluffy towel from the rack and started looking for some clothes in to change into. My outfit, carelessly picked, was a white jersey-style crop top (a gift from Janet, my best friend) that had the number 45 on the front, and my favorite old faded skinny jeans. Those were two of the limited things I had left in my closet that could be worn, since i haven't had a laundry day in almost a month.

I slung my red leather jacket (also from Janet, who says that I am fashionably challenged on a daily basis, but at least the jacket was practical for keeping me warm) onto my shoulder and grabbed my new gray Balenciaga purse (ugh, a guilt present from Mom when she accidentally forgot my birthday), ran my fingers through my long, tangly brown hair, then hurried down the stairs to the kitchen.

After downing a cup of orange juice and nibbling on some apple and mango slices, I felt better focused, more awake. Hurrying, I slipped into my worn-out white sneakers and traipsed out to the cold outside and locked my front door.

I was going to take the Tube to Oxford Street, where I would meet Janet at Starbucks to have some coffee then we were to do a little shopping.

As the ticket counter lady scowled at the computer screen in front of her, I sighed. "Three pounds, twenty-five cents," she grumbled as I handed her the money.

Taking my ticket, I walked towards the crowded rail platforms and waited.

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hey hey readers x

hi, this is my first story and i don't really know what to think about it, and this chappy is so short and boring for a first one, but ya know, a little bit of writer's block! i have everything in my head but it's challenging to put it down on text. i'll try better, okay? picture of how nicole looks like on the multimedia column on the right :) (lily collins! ♡)

love from nata xxx

ps: i will not be updating a lot real fast cause i have school and homework and all that, especially when I'm super busy... sorry :( but i'll make an effort to make it as fast as possible!

pps: i want to know what you think about this chapter! much luv <3 and ill try to write faster. hopefully in the next chapter we will finally get to meet Connor :)