So who owns? Yeah, I do. (Not to sound self centered or anything...)
But yeah. I was telling myself that I'd post the first chapter when I thought of the perfect title. Guess what just came to me as I was writing the story outline? Yeah. The PERFECT TITLE!
I really like this one. It has love, hate, confliction, and many, many more emotions that will show over time! I hope you SERIOUSLY enjoy!
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Moving. Everything was in motion. Choosing to stop and stare or having to bend down to tie a shoelace would mean chaos. Being immobile was not an option. Everything had to move.
I had an abnormal disgust for airports, especially during Christmas time. Everything was so sterile and fake, shoving it's happily smiling Welcome Home face down your throat. Couples jumped on top of one another during their reunion, though both had probably cheated while the other was away. Fake-meat sandwich shops lined the terminals, basking in the thrill of foreigners trying to use local currency. And everyone, everyone, pushed and shoved in a flow of moving bodies to get through customs first.
The Holier-Then-Thou atmosphere made me want to push every single bit of Holly Jolly Mistletoe down Santa's throat.
"Ella! Oh, I've missed you so much! How has University been treating you!" The suitcases I held in my hands dropped loudly onto the ceramic floor as two lovingly plump arms engulfed my entire upper body. My immediate reaction was to hug back, completely comforted away from the stress of the airport in the arms of my mother.
"Uni's exactly the same as when I talked to you on the phone this morning, mum," I laughed as my bags were lifted off the ground by my aging father. His once thick brown hair had salt and pepper speckles weaving through his thinning locks. How much time had gone by? Just a few months?
"Emma, let the girl breathe," My father's deep voice chuckled as he gave me a one armed hug. "The rest of the family will be upset if they never get their turn." He added, winking one of his fading blue eyes subtly in my direction. I laughed as my heart filled with happiness and warmth while my parents led me out of the terminal.
I had been at university for nearly three and a half months studying anthropology and other culture related sciences. Vacation had finally come, allowing all the students a break for just over a month. I was ecstatic to be home, the small ache of homesickness subtly subsiding from the pits of my stomach as my old comforting surroundings reappeared with every step I took.
Christmas was right around the corner, but first my family had to celebrate my brother, Harry's, birthday. He was turning twenty-three on the twenty-third. Apparently that meant something.
Normally whenever Harry had a birthday party it usually turned into a Christmas family gathering. He got his cake and presents first but soon after the rest of the Judd clan began trading Christmas presents and Christmas stories and Christmas recipes and other Christmas related tidings. It was an awkwardly standard tradition.
During the entire car ride back to my childhood home, my parents kept me talking about all of my college experiences. The majority of the information they already knew due to my frequent calls home, but that didn't diminish their interest. They wanted to know everything.
"What about the boys, Ella? Anyone strike your fancy?" My mother was the only person I knew who actually used the phrase strike your fancy.
"Not that way, no." I replied, rolling my eyes lightly. The guys were friendly enough, though none of them really stuck out. I had to focus on my school work, anyway.
"Really? Didn't anyone ask you out?" She continued prodding, keeping her eyes on the road as she drove.
"A few did, but I'm not really looking." I shrugged, trying to end the conversation.
"Good for you. You can wait till after college before you get interested in boys," My father agreed, sounding too proud for the subject.
"But Rodney, I met you in college." My mother countered, sounding confused. I let them continue their short little spat, not really paying attention. It wasn't anyone else's business who or when I dated. It was my decision.
But I knew my parents would be happy if I let them think they had some kind of important influence.
I must've drifted off to sleep at some point as cross-country travel normally took a toll on my consciousness. I awoke a few hours later, my mother and father's squabbling no longer audible. It took me a few seconds to realize where I was and to figure out how I'd gotten there. I was fully clothed in my jeans and sweatshirt, lying backwards on my childhood bed. The covers were awkwardly pulled up to my chin, scratching the light fabric across my pale skin. My bags were neatly placed at the edge of my bed, sitting parallel to my boots.
My father must've brought me up from the car once we'd arrived home. I tried to think back to the last time he'd carried me to my bed, and I could only recall when I was really little and fallen asleep on the couch. It was slightly nostalgic, in a way.
I tip toed out of my bed, opening my door quietly and glancing around the dark corridors. The clock that I used to have in my bedroom currently resided in my dorm, so I had no clue what time it really was.
My bare feet slowly padded the way down our wooden stairs, creaking slightly on the more worn out steps. I traced my way through the dining room and living room before arriving in the kitchen. All of the lights were off but the red glow of the digital clock shone brightly throughout the room. The large 3:00 stared up at me, as though taunting my horrible sleeping habits. I sighed, running my hands roughly through my hair before opening the refrigerator and withdrawing some of my brother's apple juice. He must be here, too, then.
Harry was a year older then me, but he only attended university for part of the first year. He auditioned for a signed band when he was eighteen years old, trying to obtain the drumming position. For some odd reason, they picked Harry out of all of the other drummers and the band has been together ever since.
They've done amazingly well as a band. Several number one singles and albums, and millions of fans all around the world. They'd lived together for some time in central London but decided after a while that they needed more space for all of their stuff. It wasn't even that they needed space from each other. Boys.
It was slightly ridiculous.
So for the past couple of years the boys lived next to one another in separate apartments, spending all day and everyday in together in different houses. It was kind of adorable to watch them all grow up from a third person perspective.
I loved my parents a lot, but the person I missed most when I was in college was Harry. My brother was easily one of my best friends, though we'd never admit it aloud. We could talk to one another about anything and the trust between us was something that a lot of siblings worshiped. We could've been born twins.
I drank a glass or two of Harry's Holy Apple Juice before putting the jug back into the fridge. When we were growing up it was nearly illegal to touch his juice. He drank a cup of it at every meal until the doctor told him it wasn't very healthy to drink something in such vast amounts unless it was water. My mom still buys him apple juice whenever he comes home.
"Ella?" I spun around suddenly, my heart beating quickly as erratic thoughts of robbers and rapists clouded my mind. Sure, it was an irrational train of thought but my instincts over powered my critical thinking.
"Oh god, Harry. You scared me half to death," I whispered, trying hard not to yell and wake our parents up.
"Such a lovely greeting. I missed you too," He rolled his eyes though his tired smile continued to flash across the room at me. I moved over to him, hugging him tightly around the waist while his arms encircled my shoulders.
"I missed you," I sighed, pulling away after a moment.
"Missed you, too. What're you doing up?" He mumbled as his arms fell from my shoulders and he crossed the room to snag a cup from the cupboard.
"I couldn't sleep so I got something to drink." I replied, shrugging slightly. "What about you?"
"This is the first night I've been allowed to sleep straight through, and now I can't seem to keep my eyes shut." He chuckled before predictably pulling the apple juice out of the fridge and pouring himself a glass. "Now I'll look like a dead zombie at my party tomorrow. The guys will steal all my cake." He sounded regretful.
"The guys are coming?" I asked as we referred to his band mates. When they were discussed as a group, they were referred to as one of three things. The boys, the guys, or McFly. They were normally never mentioned as individuals. They moved as a pack.
"Yeah," He shrugged, not recognizing the problem he just presented me with. I scowled as I considered the new information.
Danny Jones would be at our family Christmas party. Danny Jones, the same kid that I hadn't gotten along with since the beginning of McFly. Danny Jones, well known idiot.
"Hey... who drank my apple juice?" Harry suddenly asked, his voice sounding remarkably more awake as he held the jug in front of his face, swishing the liquid about to measure the amount gone. I bit my lip, trying to hide my guilty face by yawning suddenly.
"I don't know. Ask dad... I'm off to bed, now. See you in the morning, Harry!" I called, turning out of the room and quickly jumping back up the stairs. It was silent for a minute before I heard my brother swear after me, mumbling something about stealing his bloody apple juice.
Yeah, well, Danny Jones shouldn't be coming to my bloody family party.