The American Dream

The American Dream: Chapter Three

Stood on my tip toes, holding up the phone high into the cloudless sky, I felt how hopeless it was. After only being in the states for 24 hours, I had taken it upon myself to manage to find a hotspot for my blackberry. From any level in my bedroom, I hadn't even managed one bar out of five - meaning that the only communication I had had was with my best friend on Skype who had a face pack on, which I chose not to count.

My screen lit up then, showing me it had one bar - needing at least four bars to even get a text- I continued to leap around with my blackberry huddled tightly in my clammy hands...two bars lit up on the screen, helping me grasp that if I was high up on the left hand side of the garden I was getting more reception.

As I hadn't even explored the back garden yet: after getting to the house yesterday plugging in the laptop and my dongle to connect to the Internet, I had spent a couple of hours skyping my best friend. Once she had explained because I was five hours behind her, it was only 8pm for me but it was 1am for her and if she woke up her mum again she would be on a lockdown of the computer. This morning I had just taken a shower, wrapped my hair up and worn the only clothes I had had the energy to unpack and headed to the beach.

Now that the rain had ended, I was keen to find some service: I'm not the type of girl who tweets every single moment in her life, from her relationship status to her bowel movements. But I was keen to talk to my other friends, maybe even managing to pretend I was back in England on the phone to them. Three bars....The fourth bar was flickering, eagerly I pounced further into the left side deeper into the back garden. Just as the fourth bar fully lit up, my whole body collided with something. My phone went flying out of my hands, myself following it quickly behind and the other person also making a sound at their landing.

"Oh! I am so sorry!" I cried, crouching upwards quickly pulling myself up to see my latest victim. Honestly, I was too busy concentrating on the screen to even look at my surroundings. I was sure if my mother were to run around the room waving the British flag stark naked screaming the national anthem I probably wouldn't notice...Maybe a slight overstatement but the meaning still stood.

"Watch would you?" He grunted angrily. The boy, well he was obviously older than me so maybe man, pushed himself of the grass towering over my 5'10 figure. He was tall to say the least, the top of my head just reaching to his chin as he gave me a scowl a frown line cowering down over his crystal blue eyes. He had an unshaven chin, with just enough stubble to be noted but not enough to make you think he didn't own a razor, his dark blonde hair styled messily.

"I am sorry...."I mumbled for a moment, then snatching up my phone from the ground I groaned aloud. My four bars had gone shooting back down to the aggravating 'emergency calls only' sign flashing in the corner of the screen - this was exactly what I had started of with.

"You look it." My head clocked up to meet his eyes, noticing how he narrowed them as soon as I had looked up. "Your new here, aren't you?" Normally, when people say this in movies they say it in a friendly way and offer to take you under there wing. But right now? From the way the boy spoke to me, made me feel as welcome as herpes.

"What gave it away?" I grumbled, maybe it was because of the way the boy had spoken to me...or just because I was still jet legged that I had the urge to just walk straight out of the unfriendly conversation.

"Because I haven't seen you around before." The boy almost sounded sincere before adding on in a snarky voice "And normally people from this town are more polite to the mayors son."

"Oh," was all I could respond, trying to find a comeback. There wasn't really anything you could say to that, now was there? "I'm Alexis, I just moved here with my family..." I gestured to the house a few feet behind me, a lot more to the right than I realised I had leaped to.

"Hamilton? But you don't have a British accent." Of all the things someone could say, when you say something in a nice way after the rude way they had spoken to you, was probably one of the most annoying thing. Because of all these British Stereotypes, I knew it would come to these comments. Truth be told, not one single person in the entire UK speaks like any British Accent you will hear on American TV, hate to burst the bubble kids but it is put on.

"I don't like cups of tea either, guess I'm the worst British representer ever." Was all I could say, now I'm not trying to say that was comedy gold. But when I had said it to Sylvia, she had laughed however this boy's scowl just took over even more of his face in a way that said 'don't even try to be funny'. I'm no expert, but the vibe was I wasn't wanted here.

"Well seeing as your probably still adjusting to being in New England, but next time your in my back garden I will not be happy." And like that the boy was marching away. His back garden? Looking straight ahead, stood a house right next to mine. Apart from the fact this house had what looked like a pool on the first floor and was at least triple the size of the house I was staying in - they were pretty alike.

Sighing, I hurried back to directly in front of my house (which looked like the ghetto compared) and tried to find a phone signal.

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