It had been 2 days since my family had moved to this town and I already did not like it. The sound of the wind that so often graced the streets of Beacon Hills was the only thing that met my ears as I lay in my new bed, in my new room, in my new house. I'm sure that most people would be excited to move after having lived in the same place for all of their conscious life, but although my father kept calling it an "Adventure" and a "new experience" I couldn't help but see his words as a cover up for what this really was; a job transfer to a new country that would pay him more than if he stayed in England as a police officer.
When he had first told me that we would be moving to the United States I had been overjoyed. We often travelled the UK as he researched detailed cases and I thought this was going to be the same. His cases in England took weeks to research, and I assumed that we would be living in the U.S. for a few weeks, maybe a month, before we came back here to continue our lives as normal. The thought of exploring a new country for a few weeks excited me, and I had imagined myself returning home to my friends and telling them all about the culture and history of the younger country. Of course this was not the case. I knew that I should be happy for him, it was technically a promotion although he would be doing many of the same things, but the fact that he had been assigned to such a small town made no sense to me. Surely there couldn't be that much crime and mystery in a town whose population could be counted on an abacus?
My dad would be working directly with the town's sheriff in order to solve the cases that arose. He would essentially be a detective, although he would still be working in a police station and patrolling when they needed him too. If it wasn't for how happy he had been when he had been talking about the house that he had managed to obtain in Beacon Hills and how great our life was going to be, I would have argued. My Dad and I had always been close, and the smile on his face and how happiness radiated from him every time he mentioned that tiny town in California was enough to shut me up and go with him and my mum.
Once we got here I failed to see why my dad had been so excited about the house and the surrounding area. It was a fairly nice small town, with a fairly nice school and a fairly nice atmosphere. It was just quite simply, nice. It was not more exciting than anything we had seen back home, and while I was happy that my family and I would quite clearly be safe here, I could tell that when I wasn't at school or doing homework, there would be barely anything to do. My only hope was that maybe I would befriend a local who would tell me about a secret path that lead to something of more entertainment than corner stores and gorgeous flowers.
After taking the two days to settle in my family had mentioned that I was going to be starting at my new school. "Better to start now and get it over with" was repeated over and over as I attempted to reason with both my mother and father about starting school with only a few weeks left until the semester was over, and so I was to start school of the third day of being in the US. My bags had already been packed and I was materialistically ready for my first day at Beacon Hills high school. The close knit community here would mean that everyone had known their school friends since they were younger. I would not only be an outsider simply because of my accent, or my paler skin, but because I was basically a foreigner, an intruder into their way of life. Emotionally, I was terrified.
No matter how much I willed against it, the sun rose over the hills in this new town of mine. The few hours sleep that I managed to obtain were broken by an alarm and my mother's voice, her affirmations for the day not helping with my nerves in the slightest. No matter how many times she told me that the day would be great, all I could think of was how I had no idea how to deal with the situation that I was currently in. No matter how I imagined my first day of school here, it always ended badly. I just hoped that I would slip under the radar for the first couple of days, possibly make some friends who didn't mind how ridiculously awkward I could be around new people, and live my life here without having to worry about anything but handing in my homework late.
I moved from the safety of my purple quilt, the soft material falling from my body as I looked around the box filled room. My mum came in with coffee and a smile, willing me to start getting ready and I did, showering and pulling the denim shorts, white tank and red flannel combo that I had decided that I wanted to wear from the cardboard it had travelled across seas in. It was hotter here than in England so I had decided against a jacket of any kind and the biker boots that fit around my slender ankles were more for comfort as I had worn them the very last time I had seen my friends at home. It was odd not having to slip into a black skirt and a white shirt for school, and I couldn't tell if it was going to be a blessing or a curse that there was no uniform. I eyed myself in the mirror after I had pulled all of the above onto my 5' 4" frame, the makeup I had decided to wear causing soft black flicks and thick lashes to decorate my icy blue orbs. I grabbed the black tote that I had chosen because it would go with anything and checked that I had everything that I would need for the first day of school. I didn't have my schedule yet so I didn't know which text books I should be bringing, so I guessed with the intention of putting the books in the locker I assumed that I would get and then I would bring the correct books in the following day.
Slowly, I walked down the stairs in the overly sized house that had excited both my parents so much and turned into the kitchen to see my mum and dad both waiting for me at the breakfast bar.
"Morning honey!" My mum spoke, the cheerfulness in her voice not something that I shared, "I made you some pancakes for your first day, now don't you worry about it it's going to be fine. The principle said to go straight to the administration office and they will give you their timetable."
"Alright" I spoke, biting my lip and sitting on the stool of the breakfast bar that my parents had placed my breakfast in front of. It was strange that they were being like this, they usually just left me to my own devices and I would see them when they got home from work but I suppose they wanted to make sure I actually went to school. I sipped at the coffee that my dad poured out for me, flashing him a smiled before I placed the coffee cup on the coaster and turned to him, "Are you working today too?"
He smiled and nodded, "I finally get to meet the guy I'm gonna be working for! He was telling me that he has a son that goes to your school actually, he goes by Stiles"
I nodded as I chewed on a bite of pancake, remembering the name so that I could look out for him if he was in any of my classes. If my dad worked with his dad, there was a chance that we would see each other a lot and I was not in any position to pass up friends right now even if we were forced upon each other by our dads' jobs.
After I had finished breakfast I jumped down from the breakfast bar and smiled, "Alright well I guess I'll get going. You said it was a 10 minute walk right?" I looked at my mum and she nodded but said nothing and allowed my dad to continue talking.
"Actually..." He began and my mother gave me a look.
"What?" My brow furrowed as I adjusted the strap of my bag on my shoulder and waited for an explanation of why my parents were acting so strange.
"Sheriff Stilinski said that he would send his son to give you a ride to school because I mentioned that you couldn't drive yet"
"Dad!" I started, not needing an awkward encounter even before I had reached the doors of the place that I knew I would learn to hate over the next couple of years.
"Now listen, it wasn't my idea it was his. I asked if there was a school bus or something and the Sheriff suggested it because apparently from what I've told him about you, you and Stiles aren't that different" I rolled my eyes at the last comment, this entire thing stinking of a set up and I shook my head. Honestly, I was glad that I didn't have to take the bus. The humiliation of having to sit alone on a bus full of people who already knew each other made me feel sick. I would rather have walked the 10 minutes than have to sit in a car awkwardly with my dad's boss' son.
"Whatever dad, when's he getting here?" I reasoned that it would be rude to decline considering that this Stiles' dad was probably having the same conversation with his son right now, and he was being forced to drive me.
"He should be here any minute, now why don't you fill up your travel cup so you have some coffee for when you get to school?" He offered, and I nodded, trying my hardest not to think about the fact that at any given time, a stranger was coming to pick me up and drive me to a place full of other strangers. Although this could, and probably would, end badly, I reasoned that being with someone in a contained environment before being surrounded by strangers might actually be a good thing. I just prayed that this Stiles was ordinary.
I barely had time to finish my train of thought before the doorbell rang, and I continued to fill my cup as my dad went, much to my distaste, to greet this new boy at the door. I heard a pleasant exchange before I turned around and saw my father standing next to a fresh faced brunette whose eyes were the most unusual shade of hazel. He had my attention as he held my gaze, and I barely heard him speak before he held his hand out awkwardly.
"Hi I'm... I'm Stiles..." He stuttered, the awkwardness of this situation so evident that it made me wish the ground would swallow me whole, "I'm your ride!" He grinned, his teeth white and straight and his smile captivating.
"Hey... I'm Lauren, it's... really weird to meet you like this" I chuckled, taking his hand and sharing an awkward handshake as we both made our way to the door.
"Thanks a lot for this, Stiles" My dad smiled, patting the boy on the back.
"It's no trouble; I mean I was going there anyway, right?" Stiles grinned again and I couldn't help but mirror it, his smile and his laugh were highly infectious.
The two of us made our way to his jeep, and I couldn't help but admire the car. I had no idea what made a car run, how to build one or even the differences between different car companies but I knew what looked good and even though his car was beaten up, it reeked of character and a million stories that would be told for years.
"Nice car" I smiled as he opened the door for me, chuckling as he was obviously being so chivalrous because my dad was still standing at the door watching us. He climbed into the driver's seat and started up the car before he answered, "Thanks, it's my baby".
He flashed the smile again, and I couldn't help but be drawn to him. His charisma was undeniable and I was glad to be in the presence of someone who was obviously friendly instead of a head case that would have made me fear for my life. He started the car and began the short journey to school, and I couldn't help but think that maybe the day wasn't going to be as bad as I had originally thought.
