1. New arrival

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I can't believe I'm actually doing this. Who the hell moves across the country to live with a foreign family and attend a foreign school for a whole year? I don't know anyone or anything about life here, but I'm going to be meeting my new host family soon enough. Anxiety twists my stomach in nervous knots of anticipation and fear. All I know about my soon to be family is that there are two parents and two kids around my age. I have exchanged a few emails with the Mother, Jenny, sorting out some details and she seems excited to meet me.

I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the taxi review mirror. Tired, blue eyes stare back at me. The flight was long and boring and I just want to sleep in a real bed. I run my fingers through my mussed blonde hair to smooth it down.
I share the same straight, light coloured hair and dark blue eyes as my mother. What we don't share is our personalities. Where she is standoffish and loud, I'm quiet and avoid any confrontation. I prefer not to draw attention to myself and have accomplished that throughout most of high school. I'm hoping I'll be able to do that here too.

It's sunset as the taxi takes a left turn onto a crowded street. The houses are plush with well kept lawns and large homes. One house in particular has cars parked everywhere and music blaring. The taxi rolls to a stop right in front of it.

What the shit balls?
This can't be right.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" I ask the driver.

"Yes miss, this is the address I was given." He replies in a strong British accent. I'm still getting used to that.

"Ok, thanks." I say, paying him and climbing out. As soon as I've hauled my bags out, the taxi pulls out and disappears down the street. I pull my jacket tighter as the cold air surrounds me.
I turn to the house, inhaling a sharp breath. I'm so damn nervous I could vomit. Why did I do this again?

Oh, right. To escape. I saved up to pay for this entire trip, working hard and long hours at our local diner waitressing. I can do this. I have to do this.

When I told my mom and my Stepfather that I was moving to London, UK for a year they lost their shit, but somehow I managed to get them to sign the paperwork. If only because I wouldn't be there to annoy them anymore. They didn't exactly enjoy my company so I think they were glad to be rid of me.

I was only six when my real dad left us, that's when things went downhill. Mom started blaming me for him leaving. She became negligent and cruel, then when she met Dan, my stepdad, things went from bad to worse.

At first he would just slap me around and call me names, but when I started developing breasts and curves he did other things...things that make my stomach curl. Mom knew, yet she decided to turn a blind eye. She never helped and for that I will never forgive her. This is why I'm relieved to escape, to start over, even if it's only for a year. I'm free for now. When I go back home, to Chicago, Illinois, I'll only have one more year of high school before I can move out of that hell hole and start a real life.

I begin rolling my huge suitcase up the cobblestone driveway, looking up at the  giant cream coloured, double story house.
They must be loaded. For some reason this realisation makes me more nervous. What if they are stuck up and rude? What if they can tell I'm not upper class like them? Will they judge me off my cheap clothes and non-manicured nails?

My step falters but I will myself to move forward.

Eventually I find the courage to knock on the large wooden double doors. After a few minutes I decide that they must not hear me over the blaring music so I knock again, louder this time. Within seconds the door bursts open and a gorgeous, dark brown-haired girl stares at me. She looks about my age, 16 or maybe a bit younger, but has a model-worthy body, with the exception of being a bit short. Her green eyes look me up and down and a huge smile spreads across her face.

"You must be Baylee! It's so good to finally meet you! I'm Sienna-rose,
but call me Sienna."

***

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