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𝚍𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎 - 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚣
☽
I stare out of the window, watching the blur of trees as we drive by. Occasionally the sun peeks through the branches and I have to squint, but I don't look away. There's something mesmerising about the rush of green. My dad looks at me in the car mirror. Probably noticing the frown plastered on my face, he says,
"Look, Evie, I know you're gonna like it at the new place."
Hallie is sitting on my lap as I rub behind her ear, comforted by the sensation of her fur underneath my fingers.
My eyes meet his in the car mirror, so I give him a small smile.
My mum sees right through me.
'This way we can have a fresh start. You can go to a new school... Just trust me,' she says with a sigh.
I nod at her and resume staring out of the car window.
Last year, my dad had an affair and my mum literally caught him in the act. She pretends that she's forgiven him and that everything's fine - but I know she hasn't. And neither have I.
But maybe she's right - a fresh start is what we need. I just don't see how all of a sudden we can be the happy family my parents want.
We're moving to some old house that used to belong to some distant relatives I'd never heard of before. It's miles away from our old house.
No one says anything for the rest of the journey. I must've fallen asleep, as I'm woken up by my dad's announcement:
'Looks like we're here!' he booms with unnecessary enthusiasm.
The car screeches to a halt outside. I reluctantly open the door and step out, clutching Hallie in my arms. The house is huge, and really, really old. It's pretty intimidating and I get dizzy looking up at it. The sun's still high in the sky, though we've been driving for hours.
'Hey, Evie! Come help me with the boxes,' says my dad, unloading the trunk of the car.
I pull my eyes away from the house looming in front of me and walk over to him, where he's holding out a box with my name scribbled on the side in black marker.
'These are your things. How about you go decorate your room while we wait for the moving van.'
He passes me the box with a smile and gently punches my shoulder. I go to get him back but he dodges. I start walking back to the house with a small smile.
My mum taps me on the shoulder and whispers to me:
'You can pick your room first,' she pulls away with a smile.
Okay. So I don't completely hate my parents. I just miss the times when everything was easier. I just wish it would go back to before... everything... happened and just be a normal family.
I walk up to the porch and press my back against the door. It's open, and gives in with a creak.
It's even more stunning from the inside. Lights dance across the floors and walls from a stained glass window at the top of the spiralled staircase.
I quickly glance around at the other rooms before I go to choose my bedroom. It's difficult to take in the sheer size and beauty of this house.
I walk up the stairs, the aged wood groaning under my weight. When I reach the top of the stairs, I am met by a corridor lined with rooms.
Startled by a door swinging open at the end of the hallway, I drop the box I was holding. My things spill out onto the floor. I'm so jumpy. It must've just been the wind; I say to myself as I bend down to gather my things.
I reach for my mp3 player, and and am shocked when another hand touches mine. I look up to see who it belongs to.
My eyes meet a boy, around my age with big, brown eyes, a crooked smile and shaggy dirty blonde hair. At first I'm too mesmerised by his charm to think why the hell is he in my house?
'Got any Kurt Cobain on this thing?' He holds the mp3 player out to me.
I take it, shaking my head with a small laugh.
He helps me put the rest of the stuff back into the box and we both stand. I look at him, wondering why this insanely cute boy is standing in front of me.
'Oh - sorry,' He says, noticing my confusion, 'I'm Tate'. He reaches a hand out for me to shake. His touch. I felt it before just a second ago - there's just something about it. Cold, sending bolts of electricity through my body, yet warm and comforting.
'Evelyn.' I reply, 'but you can call me Evie.'
'I'm your next door neighbour - the door was open - I just wanted to introduce myself.'
'I'm glad you did.' I say.
'Anyway, I better be going now - it was nice to meet you. See you again sometime?'
'I'd count on it,' I smile at him, and he returns it.
I know it's cliché but he seems like a typical 'boy next door'. like in all those dumb teen movies I used to watch. Maybe there's more truth to them than I gave credit for.
