frostbite || n.h. au

chapter one || days

“We’re not done yet, Heather.”

“You’re right. You’re not done. But me;I am so done,” I quipped. He grumbled at me and I sprawled myself horizontally across the couch in response.

“Heather, help your father and I. We still have a few more boxes left. They’re in the moving van closest to the neighbors,” Ma yelled from the back door. She was such an eavesdropper.

“Ugh, I hate moving,” I huffed under by breath.

“We don’t hate it any less, Feather,” I shot a glare at him for using that dumb nickname, “but we had to! Unless you wanted to sell all of this nice furniture and stay in the old house.” I groaned once again and dragged myself off of the soft, comfy sofa that gently caressed me like I was a little baby.

“At least we wouldn’t have to unpack it then!”

Almost the whole house was made up of hallways. Long and short. I wasn’t sure which path to take until Ma came out one carrying two small boxes. I guessed it was the right one to exit I cringed at the bare walls on my journey to the back door. I could almost hear them begging to be dressed in decorations themselves. I ran my finger down the window of the back door then wiped it on my sweater in disgust. This house definitely needed a wipe down., too.

Once I got outside I tripped on an overgrown vine that trailed the sidewalk and scraped both knees. I took that as a warm welcome from the house.

I looked around while I walked over to the trailer and noticed that most of the houses around us didn’t even look much cleaner that our new one. Maybe it was the style here in Mayville. Dirty windows. I crinkled my nose at the thought. We could be different. New neighbors were always the “different” ones. I’d rather be seen as the odd ones out than have so much dust on my windows I can’t even see out of them. I ignored the windows and shuffled over to my destination.

There were only two boxes left in the back of the trailer. Both of them I guessed around 30 pounds. They were the big boxes. I shivered and stepped inside. My steps made booming noises as a walked.

“Shut up,” I scolded my feet. I groaned when I read the label on the boxes.

PICTURES

Which meant two thirty-pound box fulls of them. Ma was obsessed with pictures and picture frames. Why couldn’t it have been pillows or something? I started pushing the first box toward the edge of the trailer by giving it a good shove. It slid pretty easily across the metal interior. What was going to be the hardest was carrying it inside. I managed to get both boxes towards the edge of the trailer with lots of little pushes and grunts.

“Need any help there?”

The spontaneous voice made me jump, and I  tripped over the box and landed on the cold, hard metal. It send a pain through my spine and my tailbone was tingling.

“No, just some crutches maybe ‘cause I don’t think I’m gonna be able to walk anymore,” I replied to the unknown voice. The boy (I’m guessing it was a boy) laughed and I heard him step into the trailer. I looked up at him.

Yeah, definitely a boy.

“Here.” He held out his hand politely and I took it and was instantly lifted up to meet a pair of blue eyes.

“Thanks. And actually I probably could use some help now that I think about it,” I said to him, looking over desperately at the thirty-ton boxes.

“Do I even get to introduce myself?” I turned back at him with embarrassment.

“Oh, oh my gosh. I’m sorry. I-”

“No, it’s really fine,” he laughs, “Uh, I’m Seth. Seth Packard. I’m guessing from all of the trailers and boxes that you’re just moving in?” He hopped off of the ledge of the trailer and lifted one of the boxes as if it weighed barely a pound. I raised my eyebrows.

“Yeah, only about two hours ago. And I’m guessing from that arm strength that you are a...football player?” I said with a smirk as I followed him towards the house.

“You guessed right,” he remarked. “This is the house right?”

“Yup.”

“Ah, house number 548, isn’t it? I live right across the street, by the way. House 533.” I glanced over at the tiny home then turned back once he spoke up again. “I knew the man who lived here before. I was only, like, 7 or 8. He always used to ask me to mow the lawn or tend the bushes and stuff.”

“Obviously you stopped doing that.” I glanced over at the poor little dead shrubs as we walked through the gate.

“Yeah, he died almost two year ago though; pretty tragic. I heard someone poisoned him or something. I dunno,” he shrugged. “Rumors spread around here fast.” I hummed at this interesting fact. I’d definitely keep that in mind.

I led Seth through the gates and through the yard until I was stopped by the confused face of my mother.

“Who’s this?” I predicted she’d say.

“This is our new neighbor, Ma. His name is Seth,” I stated bluntly.

“I would shake your hand, but I’ve got my hands a bit full.” He chuckles and nods his head to the massive cardboard containers.

“Oh.” Ma stands there for a moment just inspecting him, almost as if she was scanning to see if he was guest material. I laughed silently at her. “Well come on in, um, Seth.”

It was then that I realized her douchebag senses were kicking in. I took note to always be an extra small step away from him.

~

By the time I led Seth back to the exit of the house, I think I had counted up to nine times he attempted to start up conversation with my mother. Which resulted in a short reply from her stubborn self. Obviously he was a favorite of hers.  My dad and he, on the other hand, found conversation talking about football. My dad was obsessed. It turned out they shared the same favorite team or something. I hate football.

“Well, I hope the house suits you guys. I actually have never been inside. It’s gonna look really nice once you touch it up.” I smiled and replied with a simple “yeah.”

“Anyways, I would love to stay longer, but my friend is over. I don’t want to keep him waiting. He gets a little-”

“SETH WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN.”

“...impatient.” My eyes were wide with shock from this boy’s ear piercing scream in such a calm and serene air. My eyes wandered the area for the source of the voice until they landed on a boy.  A boy with artificial hair and cerulean eyes. A boy with pale cream colored skin and perfectly straight teeth. My eyes landed good and firm on this boy.

And once my eyes got a hold of him, they refused to pull away. Or maybe it was me who refused.

* 5   v o t e s   f o r   c h a p t e r   t w o  //  s e e   y o u   n e x t   s u n d a y *