Not Very Stereotypical.

Chapter Twenty

When I first came and visited the new house all I remember is the feeling that I was dreaming. The beautiful estate agent with the glossy blonde hair and perfect lipstick handed me the keys and with the accent I had only ever heard on TV, she said "Welcome home." The look on my face must have been priceless, I was aware he was looking for houses and I thought I was just visiting one of his favourite places but being told my Dad had actually bought a house on the other side of the world- I was shocked. We were actually moving to America.

So when the reality hit in that next Monday morning that not only had I moved to the otherside of the planet but had partied my first full weekend of being a resident of California, I shot up out of bed and headed towards my drawers to pick an outfit. On the Sunday night after I got home, I treated myself to a bit of a pamper, bubble bath with a crushed blue bath bomb which was found deep in a old make up bag under the sink and a hair mask before I straightened the spoilt locks. This being said it meant I saved myself some time that Monday morning, without having to do my hair or have a shower it meant that I did earn myself a short lie in.

Pulling out a baby blue vest top and a pair of white joggers, I peeled off my slightly sweaty pyjamas and applied my fragrances before getting dressed again. I tuned around and gave myself a nod of approval in the mirror before sitting down to apply my sun cream. After refusing to wear it for the first week to play catch up to tanning season, the redness on my face was spreading too much for it to pass off as blusher so I started of with SPF in order to stop that growing further. After applying a simple amount of makeup, I started scrolling through my phone and hopping my way down the stairs in my comfortable attire.

It wasn't long before I was walking through the corridors of the school halls I had become somewhat familiar with. It's becoming to feel like the montage in the movies where you're seen looking like the main character with the locker colours coincidentally matching the outfit you chose. Maybe the school's banners reflect the perfect sunlight onto your skin, making all the onlookers stare at you as you walk past them, smiling lustfully. Except this wasn't one of those moments, I stuck to walking close to the lockers, dodging doors as they were opened and leaving the centre walkway to the movement of the social hierarchy in jerseys.

I rubbed my shoulder as I turned the corner to do the final approach to my locker. Dragging my feet slightly across the sticky floor. As I approached one of the identical metal cubicles, I scratched my head whilst searching for the pattern to open it. Suddenly a voice came from behind, laced with kindness and accent the words left her mouth, "It's Milly's birthday."  With confusion plastered on my face, I turned around to see Gracie, her hair plaited in two pigtails and a baseball hat resting on her head.

"I'm pretty sure that's not the combination." I swivelled around, furrowing my brow having another attempt at the code. Gracie laughed behind me and tapped her trainers against the locker next to mine as she leant against it.  Failing at the order of the numbers again, I sighed in irritation and turned to look back at Gracie.

"What I mean is that it's on Wednesday." I smile at her, encouraging her to continue with her story but still confused about the other take at hand. "She doesn't like to make a big deal about it, whereas Mitchell does but because they already had a huge party on the weekend they decided just to have a small thing." I nodded as she took in a deep breathe during her long explanation.

"And basically apart from it being the complete opposite to their sweet 16 last year. What I'm trying to get at here is that you're obviously invited but Milly won't want to tell you until like last minute on Wednesday so you don't have a chance to get her a gift but I'm pre-warning you because it's a cute pyjama or pool party and of all people I know that would need preparation."

She brushes down her loose t shirt and bulges her eyes with urgency and begins speaking yet again. "But don't tell her I told you, she'd kill me."