It took three planes to transport us to Scotland; one from San Francisco to Chicago, Chicago to Washington DC and DC to Edinburgh. In all, it took two days and six hours. We'd had to spend the night in DC before our flight left the next morning. I can't say I was happy about moving, but, on the other hand, I can't say I wasn't. With my anxiety disorder seeming to act up, a fresh start was something I had wanted for a long time, if we're being honest. But on the way over the Atlantic, I realized I was leaving behind everything I had come to know and love thus far in my short fifteen years of life. I wasn't popular at my old school, but I had close friends and many acquaintances with whom I was friendly with. And with the inventions of Face book, Twitter and other various social networking sites, I could easily keep in touch. I had a loving extended family, and even though I didn't necessarily see them a lot in America, I knew I would see them less once we were settled overseas.
But I told myself I was going to be positive about this move. In Sharpie, I had scribbled a quote I'd seen a long time ago on my arm: The best things happen to those who make the best out of what happens. I wasn't getting out of going to Scotland (hell, I'm already here), so I might as well start liking it. If all else fails, in a few more years, I would be a legal adult and could scramble either back to America or wherever else in the world I felt the need to go.
I smiled as one song on my iPod ended and another one, from All Time Low, began. I knew Alex Gaskarth would always have my back, no matter what I ended up doing with my life. In a flower-printed travel mug, my tea had gone cold, but I downed the last of it anyway. I knew I was going to need as much of it as I could get, at least in the beginning. This was a special tea made of passionflower, peppermint, chamomile and several other wonderful herbs that help to calm nerves; this tea was my lifeline and helped me keep my anxiety in check. Instead of pumping my system full of chemicals, my mom and I had opted to go for a more natural route to treat it.
I took a deep breath; this will be good. I will be happy here. I choose to be happy. With this inner revelation, the sight of our new house, which looked like it popped straight out of a medieval history book, wasn't quite as daunting.
Emphasis on quite.
"Is this it?" my younger brother, Tony, asked from besides me. I nodded in response, at the same time my dad replied with a very enthusiastic "yep!"
My mom turned around in the seat, holding a camera.
"Is this really necessary?" I groaned.
"Yes, it is, Emily," she said, smiling too brightly. "This is a new start for all of us and we should be recording it. Now, lean towards the middle, Tony, you, too, and smile."
We did as we were told and were momentarily blinded by the camera's bright flash.
"I think you're turning into Aunt Cathy," I stated plainly. My aunt's overwhelming affinity for photography was taken out on her crew; her four boys were subjected to near-constant documentation of their daily lives. My mother was not the only sibling to be annoyed with this. I always felt a mixture of pity for them and happiness that it wasn't my family. My mother shot me a "we are not amused" look and turned around. I smirked at my minor victory and wrapped my ear buds around my iPod and shoved it into my bag.
Well, the castle that we were now calling home was huge, way larger than anything I was used to; before, my parents and I had lived in an apartment in downtown San Francisco, but moved the outskirts of the city, into a modest, three-bedroom ranch house when Mom got pregnant with Tony. So, this wasn't my first time starting a new school and having to make new friends, but I realized it was going to be harder this time. I had been six years old and hadn't been even half way through first grade following our first move.
Unloading the moving trucks didn't take as long as I'd originally thought it would have, but unpacking was now the grueling task at hand.
"Emily, can you help me out here in the garage?" my dad called from one direction.
"No, I need her to help me in the living room!" my mother called from another.
"But–"
"Just have Tony help you! There're nothing breakable going into the garage."
A pause for a few moments. "Point taken. Tony!" And that was how I got out of a lecture about golf.
Our communication went on like that for most of the evening. Dinner consisted of generic TV dinners, though we still sat at the table and said Grace. A new question arose in my mind; we were going to have to find a new church out here. My family and I were Nondenominational Christians and weren't sure if there were any churches of the like in this area. Everything in its due time, I guess. If we had to go to a Presbyterian or Lutheran or Catholic or whatever it was they had out here in Scotland, we'd make due. I had a feeling in the back of my mind, though, that God had plans for us here.
Again, everything in its due time.
School here in Scotland started quite a bit later than the one I went to in America. I got to sleep until seven instead of just having to arrive by said time. It was a rather leisurely morning; I was able to do my usual routine of shower, dress, makeup, hair but it felt off, being in a different place; I got lost more times than I care to tell you about whilst looking for the bathroom in the dark. I decided to go simple today. Though "flashy" was a good thing back in my old school, I wasn't sure how it would make me look here. I decided that I would be enough of a shiny new toy here that I didn't need to make too large a fashion statement on my first day.
That could be saved for later.
I went with a baby blue, button-down blouse, a black cardigan, a pair of dark wash-jeggings and my trusty yet ratty pair of moccasins that had definitely seen better days. I kept my makeup simple; just enough foundation to cover the blotchiness of my skin and dark circles and added some mascara to make my eyes pop. And, just for the hell of it, added some silver eye shadow. I didn't usually bother with blush or anything of the like; my face was naturally rather flushed, even under the concealer. My layered auburn hair, which was growing out from my last streak of impatience with its length, fell long just past my shoulder blades. I was going for what my friends and I had called "mermaid hair" (i.e., long and somewhat wavy) but often times my patience ran out and I cut it chin-length anyway.
But enough about my appearance. I looked presentable and that was all I needed.
High school is a fashion show, whether anyone wants to believe it or not. At least, in California it was. Breakfast consisted of me grabbing a bagel and an orange on my way out the door; my mom would be driving us to school. In my rush, I almost forgot to make my daily cup of tea. in my flower-printed travel mug. This was a special tea made of passionflower, peppermint, chamomile and several other wonderful herbs that help to calm nerves; this tea was my lifeline and helped me keep my anxiety in check. Once I stepped onto the school's property, I knew the shock was going to hit me much more there and risk of an attack was much higher. Prevention is always key.
I'd have to give it to Scotland; the place was gorgeous. First off, looking to the left, we passed maybe a dozen more ancient-looking castles on our way to the school(s), all clean, renovated and now private homes. The manicured lawns were the greenest I'd ever seen and uniform rows of bright flowers and bushes lined the exterior walls and walkways. Looking off to the right, the ocean waves beckoned lazily to those looking off from the cliff side; the smell of the salty water was prominent in the air.
My mom almost knocked me in the face with her arm as it pointed to my left. "Wave hi to dad and Lord McAshton!" she said. Looking where she was pointing, I did see my dad talking to an elderly chap riding a lovely deep brown stallion. I tried to smile, but my stomach was beginning to do that cute thing where it contorts itself into knots that have to be surgically undone.
"Scotland is beautiful, isn't it?" she asked. I opened my mouth to agree with her, when Tony piped up from the back seat.
"If you don't have vampires!" he protested. My mother and I were both taken aback for a moment. Truth be told, Tony had always had some kind of odd obsession with horror movies and monsters for his young age. Vampires especially; he used to have nightmares about them all the time, yet kept watching those movies. My parents and I usually took turns on who was going to comfort the little guy after a sleepless night. But they had gone away for a long time, though.
"And you know we really don't, right?" she countered, her light tone dropping slightly. "A dream isn't real."
I guess he was going through this episode again.
"I know what a dream is, Mom!" he sassed.
"Okay, I'm just asking," she mocked his tone. "But you do know there is no such thing has vampires, right?"
It was then that I looked up to see that we were on a collision course with a tractor. And not far from said collision. Oh yeah – we're in Great Britain. "Mom! You're on the wrong side of the road!" my voice cut through two or three octaves while delivering the warning. She screamed and yanked the car over to the other side. I chugged half of my tea, hoping it would take effect already. I ended up just scalding the entire inside of my mouth and most of my throat. The farmer on the tractor yelled something at us, though the wind caught his voice and none of us could make out what he had said.
Mom and Tony bickered on back and forth and she launched into one of her motivational speeches about making friends and having a positive attitude; something Tony was rather bad at, if we're being honest. The sun soon thereafter started to make an appearance as I took another gulp of my tea – bad decision, might I add – and drifted into my thoughts, trying to help calm my nerves.
If nothing else, I knew I wouldn't be stalked by Edward Cullen today.
Author's note: Story time! So I just stumbled across this movie a day or so ago on YouTube and was punched right in the feelings with all the nostalgia. So, I went to Google to see who played who and where the cast was nowadays. So, I had just typed in the title of this movie, when in the suggestions, I saw the magical word fanfiction. And sobbed at the fact that there was fan fiction (and 53 pages of it!). And decided I needed to write one, too. Which was probably a bad idea, since I get waaaaay too worked up over these. But I'm an idiot, so oh well.
Enjoy. And I 3 comments, jussayin.