Tuesday September 1st, 2020.
"Oh hey we match!"
I jumped as a blonde girl appeared next to me and I glanced at the purple phone she was holding out to show me and I laughed as I relaxed.
What the ever living fuck was wrong with me?
"It was the best colour." I shrugged as she pocketed her iPhone and I did the same with mine, besides it had only been Max wanting to know if I'd be okay if he went to Miami for a week.
"I'm Lindsee. I think we just had Clevelands class together."
"Poppy, nice to meet you." I smiled, "And yeah we did. Sorry if you spoke to me in there, I'm kinda out of my depth."
"Oh no don't worry. I barely talk to anyone in class." Lindsee laughed and I saw her eyes dip to the chain around my neck and I swallowed.
I was doing okay.
Living with Max had it advantages, mostly that I didn't even really have to say anything and all mention of Harry was banned.
Well that and the fact Oliver had moved out.
They were still friends however and I didn't know why Oliver had gone but I wasn't going to question it and I was happy about it. Mostly because I hadn't seen him once since being here.
I'd gotten my first letter from Niall and sent one back already, there was no mention of Harry but every mention of their other friends.
I'd gotten on the wrong subway train twice so far which was probably the worst part about moving here.
I could do the London tube with my eyes closed, I knew how to read those maps like the back of my hand, I had no idea how that skill hadn't crossed the Atlantic like I had.
"So are you living in dorms, considering you're technically a freshman?" Lindsee asked and I shook my head.
"Oh no, I'm um, I'm actually living with my brother, he has a flat here." I picked my words carefully, so far Lindsee was nice and seemed to have no idea that my last name was Carmichael and that's all I wanted in the world.
"Oh shit nice, where?" Lindsee asked as she checked her phone and I twisted my hands in my jacket pockets.
"In the West Village."
"Oh shit, is he a drug dealer or something?" Lindsee laughed but I flinched, the mention of that occupation hurting far more than it should.
"Sorry, I was just joking." Lindsee rushed out and I shook my head.
"No no, I'm sorry. It's just uh, I'm just incredibly awkward." I swallowed thickly.
I was okay.
"Nobody can be more awkward than me, you're good Poppy. Hey, I was actually going to go get a coffee, do you wanna come? I'd love to hear about how much better the British schooling system is."
I laughed and nodded, the words on the tip of my tongue about the fact the schooling system in England was actually shocking but I swallowed them down. Instead opting to listen to Lindsee talk about the professors she'd had before and her tips for surviving their classes for me.
It was refreshing.
Not that I had expected people to know me, but in London there was a certain reputation that followed me and my surname in the city. Lindsee had no idea who I was, none of the other people in my class had any idea who I was.
I was just an English girl called Poppy who was kinda weird.
Nobody knew about the scabs on my thigh, nobody knew about the silver H hanging on my neck, nobody had to know that I was pretty sure I was dying from a broken heart, over and over again every single night.
My phone buzzed in my pocket as we walked and I pulled it out to see Giovanni's name on the screen and I pocketed my phone once more without a second look.
Nobody needed to know I had a multi-millionaire Italian man asking if he could teach me Italian.
Here I was four thousand miles away chatting with Lindsee as we compared interests and quickly became friends, if she could put up with me, and through the pain; I knew I'd be alright.
So on a brisk Tuesday in New York City, I watched my life begin again.