The first day at a new school is hard for anyone, but starting a new sixth form in an area nearly 300 miles away from where you've lived your whole life is almost impossible. Your dad's new job has sent him up north, to Newcastle, taking the rest of your family with it like some horrible tornado.
As soon as you walk in the door you feel like an alien. Everyone already knows each other, they probably went to school together, and then there's you. The new girl. Your form class is in English Language, in the same room as your first lesson, but you have no idea where you're going, so stand in the cafeteria with everyone else.
A tall boy with fluffy blond hair comes and stands next to you, "Let me guess," He says, his accent as thick and sweet as treacle, "You're new."
"Is it really that obvious?" You ask, knowing fully well that you stand out like a sore thumb.
The boy grins, a smile lighting up his sharp blue eyes, "Where'ya from?"
"London," You answer, "We moved last week."
He raises his eyebrows, "Gonna have to give you the grand tour then. I'm Sam, by the way." Sam offers you his hand to shake.
You take it, "Y/N. Nice to meet you."
"Aye, you too. Where's your form?" He asks.
You show him your schedule, "English Langauge."
"Coincidence, mine too." He has a pretty smile, it's genuine and kind of charming. "We're in all the same lessons today, lucky me." Sam shoots you a wink before waving over another boy, shouting across the room, "Here, Joe!"
Joe walks over, eating a bacon sandwich as he does so. "Areet?" He nods to you, his accent harsher than Sam's, "I'm Joe."
"Y/N."
~⚫⚪⚫~
A few months pass and you finally begin to settle into your new life in Newcastle. Your friend group has started to expand, you're what could be classed as popular now, and you're starting to understand what everyone's saying, not to mention picking up the Geordie drinking habits.
Sam passed his test last week and bought a car, which he's dying to show you. You grin as you linger by the door, waiting for him to knock. His car pulls up outside, and a few seconds later you hear the sound of his knuckles on the door.
You open it, greeted with a smile and a bouquet of pink roses and white lilies.
"You said you liked flowers," Sam rubs the back of his neck nervously. "I know nowt about them, but I thought these were nice." What he doesn't tell you is that he's spent the last hour staring at flowers trying to decide which ones you would like best.
You pull him into a hug, careful not to crush them, "I love them, Sam. They're beautiful."
He smiles awkwardly, as though he's completely out of his depth, "I'm pleased you like them."
"Come in, I'll put these in water, then we can go." He wipes his feet and follows you through to the kitchen, colour flushing his cheeks. You fill a vase with water and add the flowers, taking the time to admire how pretty they are.
"They're really lovely," You smile. Sam still looks embarrassed; you change the subject, "So, where are we going?"
He raises an eyebrow and grins, "Telling you would spoil the surprise."
Sam links his arm with yours and leads you to his car, still not letting go when you lock the door.
"What do you reckon?" He asks.
It's a blue Ford Fiesta, the same as everyone else's first car, "My new taxi," You fasten your seatbelt and hunt through his glovebox for sweets.
He pulls away from the curb and changes the radio to CD. You expect Springsteen, but instead, one of your favourite songs starts to play.
"You hate this song," You say sceptically.
Sam looks over at you then quickly back at the road, "I do. But you love it."
After looking in his glovebox, under the armrest, even in the doors, you fail to find anything other than a few Greggs wrappers, an empty bottle of coke and an air freshener.
"There's sweets in my bag," He says, reading your mind "But you can't have them yet."
You don't really recognise any of the roads. You haven't been here long enough to know where anything is. "Where the hell are we?" You ask him.
"You'll see."
Finally, he stops the car. "Town Moor," He says, looking out over the grass that stretches out in front of you both.
While you try to get your bearings and figure out where exactly you are, Sam opens the boot. He passes you a bag and takes one for himself. You allow your fingers to intertwine with his as you walk across the grass. The sun's almost set, you're relying on the torch on his phone to see when Sam finds the 'perfect spot.'
Out of his bag, he takes a blanket which he spreads across the cold, damp grass, and some fairy lights to go around the blanket. He turns his torch off, the fairy lights being just bright enough so you can see each other.
"You can open the bag now," He says quietly, looking terrified.
You unzip it, and it's filled with all of your favourite things, things that you've mentioned absentmindedly to Sam. CDs of your favourite bands, candles that you said you liked,
"You remembered..." You mumble softly, looking through everything. This is the nicest thing anyone's ever done for you; tears start to prick your eyes. "You remembered everything."
He pulls you into a hug, kissing the top of your head, "Course I did pet. You mean a lot to me, you know that, right?"
"You're the best friend I've ever had," You cry into his shoulder. Friends. But friends don't look at each other the way you do.
Sam closes his eyes, your foreheads pressed together, "I can't tell you how piercingly and endlessly I think of you." You told him once in English you liked Virginia Woolf.
"You're the only person I've met who seems to have the faintest concept of what I mean when I say a thing," You say, remembering a quote.
He whispers into your ear, "I don't know any more. Sorry."
"I may never be happy," You say, quoting Sylvia Plath, "But tonight I'm content."
Sam laughs lightly, brushing the tears from your cheeks, "Next time should we just go to Nandos?"
Strange light shimmering over the sea tonightAnd it almost blows my mind and as I look to the starsI remember the time I knew a girl from Mars
