American Love Affair (5 Seconds of Summer fan fiction)

Chapter 1

I like consistency.  Routines.  Patterns.  I check the weather the night before, so I know what to wear in the morning.  I look up the menu of the restaurant days in advance.  So moving to the complete other side of the world is not the kind of thing I enjoy.    

"Lee, stop being prissy and get your shit out of the car," my mother tells me, the tone of her voice getting sharper.

"Mom.  I have jet lag,"  I whine jokingly.

Rolling my eyes, I slam the door of the black Escalade to add mass effect to what we both know: I do not want to be in Australia.  I want to be home, in Seattle, with my consistency, routines, and patterns.  The unfamiliar September spring warmth hits me as I step out of the car, and I squint into the sun as I stare up at the house, finding it difficult to register that this is my new home.  It is modern.  The black and white exterior is simple.  I remember the realtor bragging to my mom about the amazing view of the ocean from the property.  At least that is one thing Seattle and Sydney have in common: an ocean.  

I lug my stuff into the house, which is mostly empty, save the furniture and our boxes, and place the cat carriers on the hardwood.  I slump down onto the floor and take in the scent of the house, knowing that in a couple weeks I won't be able to distinguish any particular smells.  It will just smell like home.  So for now I try to remember the fresh and clean pine scent.  

"Come here Atticus.  Let's go Radley."  I tell the cats, pulling them out of their carriers by their bellies.  "Mom!  Do you know where the cats' dishes are?" 

My call is returned with silence.  I vow to get them what they need later, and stand up to wander the house.  There is the kitchen, dining room, living room, and television room downstairs.  They are all kind of connected by open doorways.  Upstairs there are two bedrooms with attached bathrooms and an office.  I would probably tear my hair out if I had to share a bathroom with my mom.  She spends hours doing her hair and make up for important events, and she adores taking a good bubble bath to de-stress.  I trace my hand down the railing and walk to the outside patio.  It is beautiful with a cement ground, a grill, woven chairs and a table, and pillows.  There is a trampoline outside, so I assume that it was a family with a child that lived in this house before us.  My mother is sitting on a bench swinging from a tree.

"Lee," she calls.

"Yes, Mother?"  I ask in a fake chipper tone, striding toward her, my sneakers making imprints in the soft grass.

"Can you do the grocery shopping?  Just get the stuff that we need.  Here're the keys, take the car." 

"Don't I need an Australian license or something?"  I ask, swinging the key ring around my index finger. 

"No.  You'll be fine.  I'll start unpacking."  

"Okay, thanks?"  I tuck the keys in the back pocket of my jeans.  "Don't forget to turn the ringer on your phone."

I hop into the car and take a deep breath: new, rental car smell.  I shove the key into the ignition and back out.  I do not exactly know where I am going; I had only been to Sydney once before my mom moved us here.  The neighborhood is quaint, modern houses lined up next to each other like toys.  The ocean is beautiful, lighter than the waves that roll into the Washington beaches.  By some miracle, I eventually find the center of town.  It's what you would expect from a main street: thrift shops, coffee shops, ice cream parlors, a liquor store, a movie theater, convenience stores, and a grocery store.  I park outside of 'Sydney's Market' and walk inside.  In Seattle, I was used to doing most of the shopping, but it just feels different here.  It hasn't set in yet that I live here.  This is not a one time trip to the grocery store; I will be back here.