"I still don't see why we had to leave," the small blond boy muttered to a tall, ice-blonde haired girl. "Why Scotland?"
"You're telling me," the girl said drily. "I haven't even experienced the horrors of being a Freshman... Not anymore." She rolled icy blue eyes, her expression becoming blank when a man and a woman strode over to them, pushing along several cases. "Mother, father."
"Cassie," her mother began, exasperated. "Come on. It has been over a week now."
"No, mom!" Cassie growled, taking Tony's hand in her own and stomping her foot. "You have just uprooted us from everything we knew! I was born in that house, damn it!"
Dottie Thompson eyed her daughter in weary acceptance, taking in her angry but tall stance and the cocking of her head that portrayed her confidence. "Cassie. It is no longer up for debate—we're here. Accept it and move on; what are you going to do? Hop on another plane and jet off back to San Diego?" Cassie stiffened at the mention of her old home. "You can't. The taxi is waiting."
Bob smiled weakly at Cassie and Tony, turning on his heel and pushing their luggage towards the mouth of the airport. Tony tugged on her hand gently, smiling shyly, and the pair began to walk. "I tried," Cassie sniffed, her shoulders sagging. "I'm sorry, Tony."
"Don't worry," Tony smiled again, wider, and swung their interlinked hands together. "How bad can it be?"
Very bad, Cassie groaned inwardly. The weather was cold, bitterly so, and the wind nipped at her leggings and baggy shirt, snow fluttering around them. It was only August, so why was it snowing? Surely this isn't normal? She gazed around, wrinkling her nose in disgust. Many men and women were bustling around in thick jackets, scarves wrapped firmly around their necks. It's August!
They found their parents and the taxi easily enough—Bob was trying to tell the Scottish taxi driver to help them, but the driver was having none of it; the man lit up a cigarette and puffed away. Cassie rolled her eyes (was this going to be a permanent thing?) and helped pack their luggage in the car, throwing her mom's case in and taking extra care with her own. At fourteen years of age, she was allowed to be stroppy about moving thousands of miles away from her own home, right? It was practically a given!
She shimmied into the car, ignoring her mother and clambering next to Tony. Her dad got in next to the driver and they were off, nerves welling in her stomach with every town they passed. Where was their new house?
She blanched when they reached gnarled, wrought iron gates that blocked their entrance to a small castle. A castle. She tried to hide the smile that bloomed on her lips, but it soon became a wide grin when her father jumped out of the car to push them open. The taxi driver began to grumble about people with too much money and not enough sense, parking and helping them remove their luggage from the boot.
Her dad handed him money and the man drove away, papping his horn as a farewell. Cassie and Tony shared a challenging look and the pair bolted up to the doors, Cassie opening the doors and whistling appreciatively. Tony bounded up behind her and shot up the visible stairs; Cassie let out a loud war cry and followed, taking the stairs two at a time and trying to find the perfect bedroom. There was a room at the end of the hall, a large open space, and she sprinted over to it. "Mine!"
Tony frowned and chose a room on the right side of the long corridor.
"Kids!" Bob called, his voice painfully amused. "The mover van is here!"
Cassie kicked off her shoes and placed them at her door as a claim and bolted down the stairs, greeting the men with a wide, beaming smile. "My room is the one at the end of the corridor. Is there anything I can help you with?"
oOo
Cassie Thompson gazed around her room in pride, accepting defeat... and accepting the move. Their new home—because every house is a home if she had her parents and brother there—was large, spacey and, while the schooling and friend situation sucked ass, her dad's job was paying more than it ever had and everyone was kind of happy. There was no stigma following them, aside from them being American. It was a fresh start.
Her new bedroom was painted an off-white, something she didn't mind. It was a little dirty, and there were still leaves all over the floor, but the floor was a stark white hardwood. Her bed was directly in the middle of the room, covered in her colourful, pastel pillows and her duvet lay folded up at the foot of it. She had managed to convince the mover men to set up her wardrobe - some horrendous flat pack thing she didn't want to attempt - and she had just finished unpacking the very last of her clothing into it. The rest of her room was made up of a large, plush sofa covered in mismatched pillows, sat opposite a white coffee table and on top of a plush white rug. It smelt like paint and dust, but it looked like home.
"Cassie?" The girl turned, staring at her mom in silence. Dottie sighed. "Look, Cassie, there was nothing we could do. Bob either took the job or lost his normal one. We fought hard, saying that it wasn't fair and you and Tony would suffer, but it was out of our hands."
"It's fine," Cassie smirked, opening her arms and gesturing to her new bedroom. "When the dresser arrives, this room will be lovely and have nothing on my old one. It just sucks that we had to go thousands of miles away from home... To here. What about birthdays and Christmas? Thanksgiving? What about grand dad and grandma?"
"I know it sucks," Dottie said glumly, embracing Cassie. "We didn't want to go either, babe. Now, off to bed. I'll draw your curtains for you."
Cassie smiled warmly and changed from her plane clothing to warm, fleecy pyjamas. She took a running leap at the bed and burst into loud giggles, wiggling under her duvet and falling asleep to a kiss pressed to her forehead.
oOo
"Cassie," Tony shook his sister gently, blinking away tears. "Cassie, please, wake up; I had a bad dream." One tired, glazed eye peeked out and the girl groaned, lifting her bedding and letting the small boy in.
"Wah'wa'sit?" she asked, dropping the duvet and throwing her leg over Tony's own.
"Vampires!" Tony whispered, rubbing at his eyes. "I was on my bed and somebody jumped from a cliff and they were heading right for me and they were going to eat me! Then I woke up, but something chirped outside and mom and dad are super tired so I came to you. You'll protect me, right?"
"With my life," Cassie agreed, yawning and her eye dropping. "Sleep." Tony smiled brightly, his dream forgotten, snuggling to her warmth.
oOo
The sun dawned bright and early; the two children let out identical groans and burrowed further in their cocoon, aiming to sleep for another few hours yet. Unfortunately, Dottie had other plans.
"Up! Come on! You're both going to school, and I'm going to check out the town square." The woman beamed, spreading her arms wide and spinning on her heel. "How do I look?"
"How you normally do," Tony grumbled, sliding out of the warm bed and leaving the room. "I'm going to make some breakfast!" he shouted, his little footsteps pounding on the stairs.
"Come on, Cassie. Up you get." Dottie continued to smile, tugging on the duvet and trying to dislodge Cassie's tight grip. With one harsh tug, the girl shifted with the duvet and fell to the floor.
"Not cool, mom," Cassie groaned, sitting up and scowling. "Tony had a nightmare and woke me up."
Dottie immediately frowned. "Next time, tell him to come to us, alright? He can't always rely on you."
"He's eight, mom."
oOo
The school looked like something from an archaic city; it was red-washed, with white trims and high beams. Students stared as Dottie marched Cassie across the school yard, and she could hear whispers such as, "Are they the Americans?" and "She looks so scary..." Cassie remained stony faced until they reached the reception, where her face spilt into a wide grin. Her mother frowned and shook her head. "Gossips."
"Hello?" she inquired, peering around the reception. The interior was vastly different to the exterior, with the cloying scent of old permeating the air. Mahogany shelves lined the walls, brimming with books of various age, with warm, plush chairs nestled around short tables. The desk where, presumably, the receptionist worked, was devoid of life. "Erm... What do I do?" Dottie turned to her daughter. Cassie shrugged, itching to investigate the books.
"Just turn up," someone else replied. Cassie peered around her mother to find the culprit.
He was dressed in a messy uniform, his tie hanging loose around his neck and his sleeves rolled up to his forearms. Ashy blond hair fell over his face, but not enough to obscure bright blue eyes and sunkissed skin. There was a boy to his left, a gangly thing with pale grey eyes and thin blond hair, who smiled shyly and waved with two curled fingers. There was another boy to his right, who smirked condescendingly and stuffed his hands into his blazer pockets. He was painfully attractive, with dark eyes and dark hair. "Hi. My name's Don."
"Hi, Don." Cassie replied in a similar manner. "My name's Cassie."
The boy cracked a grin. "I know. You've been the talk of the school."
Dottie pushed her daughter forward, smiling sweetly. "Well, Cassie, I'll pick you up later, okay? I'm sure... Don will take care of you. Bye!"
Cassie stood on her tip-toes and puckered her lips, Dottie dropping a kiss on her nose. "Have a good day, mom."
oOo
Donald closed his book and stood, his two friends following behind. "We going to help out the new kid?"
"Of course," his friend, James, sniffed delicately. "The heathens at this school will eat her alive. Imagine, being American surrounded by Scottish accents. Just terrible!"
"Spoken like a true Englishman," Tom, Donald's other friend, slammed his palm onto James' back. "She's only a kid, though, ain't she?"
"Thirteen, I think." Donald replied, peering around a wall to view the reception. He saw a woman stride in, a young girl trailing behind her, gazing at the reception, and counted to ten in his head.
He felt like a knight in shining armour when those ice-like eyes fell on him. The girl, Cassie, strode over after her mum left, and stuck her hand out. He grinned impishly and kissed the back of her hand. "This is James."
She was all sharp-features and pale, looking awkward in the female uniform. Her blazer wasn't buttoned together and her tie hung low, the first button of her blouse undone. Coupled with clunky Mary Janes and an unflattering plaid skirt, she looked the very picture of uncomfortable. Her body spoke of curves she was going to grow into very soon, and her hair was long and gleaming in the low light. From Tom's amused grin, his examination hadn't been missed.
"Hello, Cassie. It's nice to meet you." James said kindly, his bony arm digging into Don's diaphragm. Don dropped her hand with a blush. "We've taken it on ourselves to be your guide. There's been a bit of speculation in regards to yourself and not all of it has been pretty."
"I can definitely see why, though," Tom joined in. "You're very pretty. I'm Thomas, by the way."
"And underaged, so no funny business, pretty boy." Cassie eye-smiled. "Nice to meet you, James, Thomas-by-the-way."
Don laughed loudly. "Feisty, too! I like you already. We're in the Upper Sixth, so we can't really help you much... But you're sitting with us at lunch if you don't make friends. Do you have your timetable?"
oOo
Cassie tried not to scowl. She was happy that people were being nice to her, yes, but James, Donald and Tom were so pushy. They quoted long-dead poets and then stared, like she was expected to join in. They even played games. "I don't know! Larkin? Plath?"
James rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Auden, little miss. Auden."
"Okay... My turn." Cassie pursed her lips and tried to think. "Who said... Dulce et decorum est-"
"Pro partia mori," Tom rolled his eyes. "Wilfred Owen. You are so uncultured."
"I was going for Horace, actually." Cassie snarled. "You are so frustrating!"
"Well, well, well," Tom scowled at her. "Kitty's got claws. I don't like you any more."
"Why, because I reply to your taunts or because you're an asshole?" Cassie scowled back, balling her hands into fists.
"Because he's an arsehole," Donald interrupted, throwing an arm over her shoulders. She stiffened immediately. "How were your first lessons?" He continued, completely at ease with his arm over her shoulder.
This is too intimate, she said mentally. "Terrible. There's a boy named Stuart Rookery who won't leave me alone."
"That explains why he keeps staring at you," Don said quietly, tightening his grip. "Stay clear of him, you here?"
A pang went through her body: she felt like her core had frozen. Stuart Rookery was staring at her?
"He's been doing it for a while now," Tom added, sounding concerned. "He made a kid drop out of school once. Keep out of his way. His dad's an absolute psycho."
The day carried on in the same vein: however, she became hyper-aware of dark eyes trained on her every time she moved.
oOo
"So, Cassie... How's Don?" Dottie's voice was teasing but kind. "He's very cute. They all were, actually, especially the dark haired one..."
"They're all fine, mom." Cassie rolled her eyes. "Tom's an ass. He's the dark haired one, wearing the blazer, yeah?" Dottie nodded. "James is very sweet. He was the one that wasn't Donald. They're all very lovely. Tom and Don are seventeen and James is sixteen but in the same year as them. Kind of odd how they want to befriend a fourteen year old girl, but they've only been kind to me."
Dottie frowned at how old they were. "They looked young for their age! Do any of them drive?"
Cassie nodded, leaning back in the car. "Yeah. Tom and Don both do, but Don has to use his dad's car and Tom is a spoilt rich kid with a class A attitude problem, so don't expect any carpooling."
Dottie smiled. "Any other friends?"
Cassie shrugged. "Not really. There's a strange boy who keeps looking at me, but maybe he's just shy and won't say hello. How's Tony's day been?"
Dottie's expression became pinched, lips tightly drawn. "Awfully. The teacher took me aside and it's only been his first day! You're going to have to talk to him about his dreams."
Cassie nodded, frowning and leaping out of the car when they pulled up to the house. The sun as beginning to set and the house was gleaming. She grabbed her bag and shot inside, running up the stairs and pausing outside of Tony's door.
It was shut, and there was muffled sobbing from within.
She knocked and said gently, "Tony? Can I come in?"
She heard him shuffle and the door clicked open, his miserable face peeking out from behind the white washed wood. "Everyone talks funny here."
She knelt down and gave him a hug. "I know, precious. There's nothing we can do, I'm afraid."
"It sucks," he sniffled, agreeing. "Nobody wants to be my friend. I asked but they said there was no room for freaks on their table."
"You're not a freak, doll. You hush up about the vampires, okay? Save it for when they're more open for change. Being the new kid is never easy." He stiffened in her grip, and she knew she'd said the wrong thing.
"You've made friends, so I don't understand how you can say that!" he cried, pulling back. "Mom told me! You just walked in and three boys came up to you! Well, guess what? They probably just - just, want you to be their girlfriend, or something!"
"Tony!" she gasped, feeling hurt. She knew he was upset, but his words bothered her. It certainly wasn't her charming personality that made the three boys hang around her, but...
"No! Go away! Go away, go away, go away!"
She got up and left, trying not to cry. She knew Tony didn't like change—neither did she. But there was always one constant, whenever mom and dad did something that they both didn't like: they stayed together.
The condensation on her window froze.