Head Strong.

Lance. (Chapter 26)

I woke up to someone carrying me.

"The fuck...?"

I think it was Lance. He looked down at me.

"Have a good sleep?"

"Done with being a douche?"

"I'll take that was a maybe."

I jumped out of his arms, purposely stepping on both his feet using all my weight.

"OUCH!" He started jumping around like a headless chicken. I think that may have made it worse considering the ground was mainly unstable gravel.

I looked up to where the car had stopped. It was a beautiful huge house.

It was a pearly, clean white, that seemed to be four stories high, at least.

"At a place like this, I bet there's a pool. Possibly more then one! Wait, is this Uncle Al's place...?"

I walked up to the middle of the sort of steep driveway. I stopped to look at it in full.

It had a pretty huge front yard. There was croquet set, a spa, and a cricket pitch.

Uncle Al came up next to me, with a few bags.

"Y'all gonna help?" He puffed, looking red and sweaty in the face.

"Uncle...Is this your home?" I breathed.

"Yeah. Sorry it's nothing fancy."

I slowly turned to him with jaw dropped.

"Nothing fancy?! Then what is fancy?!" I asked, absolutely shocked.

"Look around at the street your in, and tell me. Now come get your suitcase." He replied. Then he chuckled. "If you think thats fancy, wait until you see the backyard!"

"Ooooh, what's there?"

He just winked. "Wait and see."

I took a moment to look around.

"I am definitely far from home." I thought.

I swear, this street was full of posh people! You know, the sort of people that would stereotype Aussie's as 'improper' or something.

"Wow. I hope the neighbours aren't snobby, little, spoilt, upper-class, air-heads, that don't know a thing about hard work." I thought, drinking in the scene around me.

It was like a scene from some multi-million dollar Hollywood movie or something!

"Oh, right!" I said, suddenly realizing what I was meant to be doing.

I started grabbing my suitcase. As I got it out from the top of the load, a man dressed in a suit came out of nowhere and said "May I give up a hand, madam?" It was an English accent, no doubt about it.

It scared the life out of me! I dropped my bag onto my foot.

I winced a little bit. It was only the edge of the bag that dropped onto my foot, but there was enough weight to make the drop painful.

Mr. Suit look horrified. "Oh my, I am so sorry!"

"It's ok, mate." I said.

Mr. Suit straightened himself. "I'm assuming your the Australian girl? Bobbi Gustus? Or, according to Master Albert, Clamshell?"

"Master? So are you a butler or something?"

"Correct."

"Wow." I said, lifting my bag. "I got it, thank you though." I said, as Suit tried to help me.

"I see you met Richard, a butler here." Uncle Al said, he seemed to pop out of now where as well!

"Richard? Is it ok if I call you Richy?"

Richard nodded. Then I started lugging the bag up the drive way.

When I got there, Lance was there. He had a foot against the wall and was standing like how I was standing before I punched Cindy before going into English.

"Have nice trip?" he asked in a smart ass tone.

"Have anything nice to say?"

"Have a hold of what slips off your tongue?"

"THAT'S IT! You and me! Here and now!" I said, putting my fists up.

Sure, I wasn't a black belt or anything in martial arts, but this kid was asking for it!

Lance tried to come at me, but Richy restrained Lance's arms. "You do not want to fight an Australian. You're an upper class, therefore you have security guards who can fight. This girl doesn't, meaning she could take you down in one-"

I punched Lance in the face.

"-punch."

"And thats a stereotype, Richy." I chuckled.

"Don't fucking cross me. Or else next time, you won't fucking wake up. Got it?! You don't know nothing about me! Just stay the fuck away from me!" I said, looking down Lance.