Starting a new school during the middle of your junior year in high school is stressful, but starting a new school, moving to a whole different country, and leaving the only person who cares about you; insane. However, for a boy of sixteen, leaving his school was his dream, leaving his country was a nightmare, but the worst of all was leaving his beloved grandmother.
His grandmother was the world for him, always loving and caring, not only to him but to the other children around the neighborhood. He never expected his grandmother to actually be dandy with the idea of him leaving her. She willingly moved into a nursing home after hearing the news of his transfer, this immediately put him into an up roar. How could she just toss him to another country, leaving him with the dirty evil world?
"Explore the world. Just like I wanted you to,"
And so he did, he left shortly after moving her completely into the retirement home. He visited one last time several hours before his flight. It was bitter-sweet, filled with tears and minute long hugs. He didn't want to leave her alone in England no one really to visit her, no one besides and do goody nurse to care for her. Would she really be alright without him? Would he really be alright without her?
Finally shedding his last tear as he stepped off the plane in Texas; a twelve-hour flight from London England to San Antonio Texas; he had bursts of crying fits throughout the long flight. Not caring for the weird stares he had been given during that time.
His uneasy legs carry him, Jake English, through security, to baggage claim, and finally to a cab that was awaiting him.
"Where to?" the scruffy older cab driver asks. He was obviously a born and raised Texan; his accent was thick, so foreign to the English hearing man.
"To 630 Sweet drive, if you please." he says, his voice groggy. He realizes for an instant that he's hardly spoken to anyone. He makes it a point to call his grandmother as soon as he got to his exchange household.
The drive was shorter than expected, He starts to unpack the cab with his things when a loud bagging and a door slam on the top floor of the apartment home, he looked up where the noise had come from; a young man almost the same age as his was now jogging down from the stairs. The man wore a black tank top, ripped black jeans, and black sunglasses. His platinum hair and pale skin seems to pop out with his attar.
Jake seems to be in a trance as he gazed into the dark glasses. The only change he had noticed was the parting of the platinum man's lips, but they close only seconds after; the man suddenly turns and walks down the road away from Jake. Did he do something?
Jake pushes the thoughts to the back of his mind and pays the cab driver. Although the change of currency was confusing to most England men, Jake seemed to pick it up easily after one night of studying with his grandmother.
He rolls his suit cases to the stairs, if he wasn't completely nervous the trip over here, he sure was now. He lifted his suitcase and steps up the stairs, the bags banging on every step making him flinch with each step. His heart is pounding and ringing in his ears, his stomach doing flips as he neared the apartment home. He read the door number, B6, he was here at his new home. A note was tapped to the door:
Hey Jake,
Sorry went out
Dave should be home in a few hours
I won't be home until dinner. Door is open
Your room is down the hall to the right, second door to the left.
See you soon
D. Strider
Jake pulls the note from the door, reading over a few more times and opens the door. The room was lite with the light from what Jake believes is the kitchen. He steps inside and closes the door behind him, to his left was what he thinks is the living room. There was three couches around a coffee table, two lamps on either side of the love seat between the four setters on the sides. A projector hanging from the roof and aiming at a white-painted wall in front of him, wires seemed to water fall from the projector and tangle on the coffee table where a desk top plainly stood.
He pulls his suitcase inside more where he could see the entrance of kitchen; light beaming from the crack of the door. "Hello?" Jake calls out hoping for an answer. "Anyone home?" he pushes the door open slightly to see the room with bright with pots the stove, there is a wonderful smell in the air. Leaving his suitcase in the living room in completely walks into the wonderful scented room, walking past the sink to his left and refrigerator to his right and straight up to the stove where he found another note.
Don't touch Jacky
Foods not done yet.
D. Strider
Jake smiles at the note; this D. Strider seems to know him well, even though they haven't even met before. He puts the note in his pocket along with the other one; he walks back into the living room and drags his suit case into his so called new room, second door to the left in the hallway to the right. Tossing his suit case on the bed and pulling out his phone out from his back pocket, then dialing his beloved grandmother's home number. As the phone rings in his ear he pulls out the two notes, reading them over again, a smirk on his lips. D. Strider, he seems to be quite mysterious.