FicWad

I stood there, in front of my new school. My new, American, foreign, not English, school. I let out a sigh. Summer was nearly over, only one week, four days and well, some hours to be exact. I had moved to New Jersey from England one week ago. Already I missed home. My real home. Still like mom said (or rather, meant to say) why have the tower of London, double decked buses and Harrods when you can have Taco Bell, the subway and Wal-mart. I must have been standing there for a while because my spiteful thoughts were interrupted by a small old lady with a walking frame.

“Are you lost dear?” she asked me kindly.
“No, sorry. I guess I got lost in my thoughts.”
“Oh. I see. Oh! Are you English dear? You have that delightful accent.”
I smiled. “Yes I am actually.” Okay so maybe she wasn’t too bad. “I moved here about a week ago.”
“Oh really? Yes, well that’s quite interesting…” she continued to mumble to herself for a while. “Why on earth would you come to New Jersey when you lived in beautiful Europe?”
I chuckled. Just what I had said to mom when she told me where we were moving to.
“Oh, well,” I guess I should make an effort. “A change of scene really. We might not be staying here for too long.”
“Oh, yes, right, well I can hardly blame you.” She turned to leave. I watched her as she walked away, a bit of a waddle really. She briefly turned around to look at me.
“What did you say you’re name was dear?”
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t. It’s Lexi.”
“Marge.” She said, smiling.
“Uh, no it’s Lex-”
“That’s my name dear.” Duh. And so Marge, not Lexi turned and continued on her way. Leaving me standing there, once again, alone in my thoughts.

I turned and walked in the direction to my house, my brown hair whipping my pale face, my blue eyes scanning the sidewalk for syringes or something like that. A reason to leave. To go home. To our little cottage just outside of the centre of London. Here I was, sixteen and in a new country. America of all places. My converses, black and red of course, scuffed the side walk and my scarf blew out behind me in the wind.

I was about to turn down my street and was knocked on my ass by some kid in glasses who had, so kindly swiped me as he had ran around the very corner I was about to turn down. He stopped, turning around with a confused look on his face. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen. He was tall and rather gangly, he flashed an apologetic smile. I smiled politely back, but I was feeling anything but polite at that moment. Possibly because I wanted to rip out his throat.

“Sorry about that, um, well, do live near here?” clearly trying to make polite conversation, or he could be trying to abduct me, but from the looks of him, I could snap him in half if he tried anything. I stood up, regaining my composure.
“Yes I live in number 45.”
“No way!!!” I guess you must be my new neighbor then.” Great.
“I guess so.” He opened his mouth to speak. “Yes, I am English.” He laughed. Seemed like a nervous laugh.
“I’m Mikey.” He extended his hand.
“Lexi.” I shook it. I was about to turn around and head for my house when I was rammed into, again. Do people never check to see if any one is around that bloody bend?!

I stood up and turned to see who the hell had just sent me to the pavement, the second time. It was another guy, surprise surprise, he looked similar to Mikey. A brother perhaps? He was a bit shorter than Mikey and his face was a different shape but they had the same hazel eyes. They also, funnily enough, had the same nervous smile.

“Sorry about that.” He said. “I was chasing twiggy here,” he gestured to Mikey. “I guess I wasn’t expecting him to be standing here, let alone with another human being.” Did he just say human being?
“It’s fine, really. I was just surprised.” And a tiny bit pissed off. “Mikey here had just done the same thing.” He suppressed a laugh.
“Did he now?”
“I did indeed.” Mikey piped up.
“I see, oh, I’m Gerard by the way.”
“Gerald?” I said. Somehow he didn’t look like a Gerald.
“Uh, not exactly. Gerard.” He said emphasizing the ‘r’.
“Oh. Sorry. I’m Lexi.” He nodded briefly, flicking a lock of hair out of his eyes in, what looked like some sort of strange spasm.

“So,” awkward. “You new here?” No, I’ve lived here all my life but was, until now a hermit.
“Yeah, I moved here about a week ago.”
“From England?” Mikey put in his two cents worth.
“Bingo.”
“Okay, then.” Gerard said. “Well I guess I’ll see you round?”
“Apparently that is the case.” He looked confused for a moment. “I’m your neighbor.”
“Ah, right, hmm, cool. Number 45?” I simply nodded, and then I turned away and headed toward the mother-ship (the house.) So, this is what American life is like. Getting run into by random guys on the street.

I opened the door to the wonderful sight of boxes and Styrofoam. Joy. I meandered my way through to the kitchen where my mother was pulling a pecan pie out of the oven. She placed it on the table, ran to the fridge, not even acknowledging me standing in the door way, pulling a small bowl of whipped cream out. She wiped her hands on her pink apron and looked up at me.

“What did you think of the school?” she asked, smiling.
“It was okay.” It looked like shit.
“Alex,” I prefer Lexi. “Please make an effort. I know it isn’t easy moving to a new school but it’s for the best.” It’s for the best? After she made me leave my private school, the school where I could have gotten the education I needed to go to oxford, she moves me to some low ranking prep school in fucking New Jersey and tells me it’s for the best?
“I know mom.” She looked at me again, her eyes full of sympathy.
“I know it isn’t like the academy but it’s the best school in the area. You’re just going to have to adjust to American life. Make some friends. There are two boys that live next door. Why don’t you go see them?”
“Well for starters, they both just knocked me on my posterior, so I guess that counts as a play date and I did talk to them, but, seriously mom, I’m not gonna fit in here. I’m an intellectual with plans to go to oxford, or be a pro horse rider, maybe even start a rescue centre for mistreated horses and ponies. I’m not the kind of girl who spends all her time at the mall or thinking about boys!”
“And I am thankful for that every minute of everyday!” My dad said as he joined us in the kitchen. “Hey! Look. Pie!” I just rolled my eyes. I loved my dad more than anything, but his mind always seemed to be on his stomach.

He ruffled my hair, the way he had since I was four and sat down on a stool. He was wearing his Foo Fighters shirt that looked like a plain white shirt, but actually had a glow in the dark alien head on it. I remembered when I was little, all the lights were out, and I had poked my head out of the doorway, about to sneak some chocolate cake into my room, when I saw an alien head, suspended in mid air, bobbing towards me. It was really dad, coming to tuck me in but all I could see was the head, so I hid behind the bed. I peeked over the top, to see the alien head, just inches away from me. I screamed and dad (aka: the bobbing alien head) leaned over, turning on my bedside lamp. When I realized he was wearing a ‘magic’ shirt I calmed down, but I never forgot that night.

“I saw you talking to those boys from next door.” he said. Looking at me briefly. “They any good?”
“They seem like good guys, I guess. Mind you, they’re a bit strange.”
“Good. Because invited them and their family to dinner tonight.” I looked at him, wide eyed.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I invited them all here for dinner.” He turned to mom. “I hope you have something good planned for dinner.