the boy across the hall

CHAPTER 1- GOING TO ENGLAND

What do you think about when I say the word 'England'? I know what I think of: Rain, the Queen, cute boys with cute accents and London. That's about it. I don't even know much about the damn place because I flunked Geography which may I say I am starting to regret. I am sure that if you were in my position you would be feeling the same way. Right now I am feeling sorry for myself. Very sorry for myself. In my opinion things couldn't be any worse. I'm on a plane, heading towards Heathrow airport, leaving my hometown of sunny California behind. This is the worst part. I have to leave one of the hottest places in America... (Well I presume it is the hottest. Like I said geography isn't my strong point) to go to England. A place where it is constantly raining. Great.

"Excuse me." A guy beside me interrupts me thoughts. He is the one in the window seat. I am lodged between two business men who are taking up all the space and arm room which is why I have made myself a little cocoon of blankets around me. I look up at the man. He is bald, wrinkled and wearing a-too-tight-suit. "Can I get past please?" I look at him then at the room in front of my seat, I have my legs crossed and my bag is on my lap because I was rummaging through it to find my phone. So there is nothing on the floor meaning this guy is either stupid or just a stuck up dude who clearly won't go past until the red carpet has been rolled out and there is someone to polish his shoes as he walks. I stare up at him again, eyebrows raised before sliding further back in my seat. This seems to satisfy him and he slithers past, disappearing off. I roll my eyes, using his arm rest. He has has it this whole flight anyways. Arm Rest Hog. I get comfortable again, about to close my eyes when the annoying overhead speaker telling us that we are about to land. Typical. Six hours on the plane and I have had zero hours sleep. You are probably thinking right now that I need to stop complaining and think about all the great things in  my life right now. Well I'm telling you now I can't think about one good thing. Except maybe the fact that I have a chocolate bar hidden at the bottom of my bag though knowing my luck that has probably melted.

You are probaly wondering why I am being such a mardy pants. I have good reason don't worry. I'm not normally like this either. It's just lately. And like I said I have a very good reason to be like this but that can be explained later when I am not trying to fight my way off a plane without being crushed to death. Call me melodramatic but that is seriously what it feels like right now. And it isn't a good feeling I can tell you that now.

I do eventually get off the plane and into the airport. And I really do mean eventually. There is so many people pushing and shoving, I admit now I was one of those people, that is just slows the whole process down. Even now as I stroll through the airport deciding that now I am in England and needn't rush myself. Especially when I don't even want to be here. After grabbing my suitcase and finding the entrance I go outside, into the bleak weather. It's raining of course. The water dragging down my curls that I spent an hour perfecting this morning. What? I like to look good. You can't judge a girl on how long she takes to get ready because if you did that I am certain you would be friendless. Anyways back to the poit. The sidewalk is lined with cabs (Or are they called taxis?), they are all shiny black. You would have thought that because the weather is so horrible they would paint the cabs bright colours to bring a little happiness when it is raining. But no. They're black. I huff, going over to the first one I see and opening the door. The guy gets out and takes my suitcase from me as I clamber in. After telling him where I am going he starts the engine and there is a silence between us. This is probably the best chance I am going to get to tell you why I am such a mardy pants. I can explain it in  two words. My father. He and my mother split up when I was seven. I haven't seen him in years then he suddenly turns up, flashing the cash and my mum falls right into his trap. Now because he thinks my 'academic grades are terrible' (I quote) he is sending me to a prissy boarding school in England. No matter how much I begged, screamed and cried he wouldn't change my mind. And neither would mum. Which is why I am now sitting in the back of a cab on the way to Yorkshire. Yes Yorkshire. One of the places it rains the most. No more sun for me. Just dull rain in a dull school with dull people. Great. Just great.