I'd lost count of how many hours had slowly crept past since I'd left my home and more importantly best friend back in Cornwall when arriving outside our new house in America.
Although I didn't want to admit it to myself I was secretly quite excited about looking through our new house and taking a trip down to the beach. There is one plus side about moving to the other side of the world. The beaches. I love the beach, whether I'm just sitting and watching or actually in the water it calms me down, relaxes me and stops me worrying and over thinking for a while. Harry always used to take me to the beach when the bad stuff was happening, when I needed to, get away...
My brother Daniel and I helped mum grab all the bags out of the back of the taxi and pull them to the front door. "This is it" my mother breathes out, "a new start". She seems so happy for the first time in a year. Seeing her smile like this makes all my worries and thoughts about Harry back at my proper home wash away. As much as I hate to admit this too, maybe this is for the better, as long as mum is happy, that's important.
"This is it mum" I smile at her "now hurry up and open the door" we both laugh as she slides the key into the lock and pushes the door to be open. I breathed in a heavy intake surprised with what I'm greeted to. The house was actually quite pretty. It was modern inside, all the walls were painted white and the floor was covered in beige coloured wooded panels. The stair case which was in front of us winded up towards the first floor. As we stepped further into the house we noticed that the front room looked onto the coast but was also open plan with the dining area and kitchen. I made my way upstairs and then up another flight of stairs into the attic room, my room.
The ceiling was quite low with visible beams which sloped downwards. The space was big but quite dusky as there was only one window, which to my delight not only had a window seat but also looked onto the coast as well. I take it back, this house isn't pretty, it's beautiful. Harry would love this place.
... ... ... ...
A few hours after unpacking the stuff I brought with me, which wasn't a lot as mum wanted to start completely new and "treat" me, I decided to go down to the beach despite how tired I am. The view from my room was amazing and I was just itching to go and listen to the waves.
The beach was just as pretty being on it as it was from the view at the house. All along the beach there were people, some families, some groups of friends, others just walking along the shore like me. What took me by surprise though was that every single boy I cast my eye along is good looking. All had sun kissed skin, not the orange colour I would see back home due to people coating themselves in fake stuff, this was real, nearly every single guy also seemed to have six packs and toned bodies, even people my age at 15. Most guys had brown hair with natural blonde highlights due to the sun where as others were completely blonde. Maybe all the American chick flicks wearn't over exaggerating when casting good looking guys they all look like that typical American surfer dude.
Maybe I could get used to this I smiled to myself.
But then something else caught my attention. All the girls also seemed to be like how they are portrayed in American chick flicks to. Every girl I passed seemed to be wearing a skimpy bikini showing of their flat, toned stomach with the glittery belly bar, whilst their either blonde or brown hair fell effortlessly over their boobs, which were pretty much falling out of their bikinis, also supporting real tans like the boys.
Maybe I couldn't get used to this. How am I meant to fit in with them? I'm not skinny, or tall, or tanned. I don't have big boobs or long hair. How am I going to make friends, how can I compete with them. The sudden thoughts of anxiety made my thoughts turn to Harry. I need him. I need my best friend here.
I decided to give Harry a call. I just wanted to hear his voice, I missed him already.
No answer. Why wouldn't he answer, he never misses my calls. But then it occurred to me, the time zone change. Huffing I stuff my phone back into my pocket and make my way back to the house. I'll try again later.
... ... ... ...
It was only 6pm but I decided to take myself to bed anyway. I couldn't fight the jet lag anymore and Harry hadn't answered my two other calls either so there was nothing better to do other then sleep. Carrying myself up the two flights of stairs was surprisingly challenging, and I started to regret wanting the top flaw, but being greeted by the view and my new double bed once reaching my room made it all worth while.
My head barely hit my pillow before sleep took over me, taking me deeper into unconsciousness which was going to make it harder for me to escape once the nightmares begin.
AN: I know it's not brilliant but I'm still getting into the swing of things:) Please let me know what you think and vote and share too:)
Wenna:)x
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Returning Home
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