A/N: Sorry this took so long and is so short. By the way, Kate's views are not suppose to offend anyone so I apologise if they do. Enjoy! Kiera
4.
I'm one of those stupid people that never learns from my mistakes, even little one's. So when I attempted to curl my hair I wasn't at all surprised that I ended up with a splendid blonde afro that refused to hide under a cup. As luck would have it, I ran into John who'd saw my struggling with a camera case.
"So how was driving on the wrong side of the road?" he asked.
"Exactly like driving on the right side except not." I replied.
"You have no choice in the matter. You're coming out with me and a few other people tonight and if you say no, it means you're being anti-social."
I laughed, thinking he was joking and when I saw he wasn't my face fell. I couldn't go out, I was a mess, all except for my new shoes. The assistant at Foot Locker had laughed when I asked to look at the new Nike trainers.
"Sneakers!" he had said. "You Brits crack me up."
Needless to say I didn't buy them and instead opted for sketchers from somewhere else.
"I can't go out, look at me!"
"Don't worry. We'll go somewhere dark. No-one will notice."
He smiled and then walked away leaving me dumbfounded. I wasn't sure whether I hated him or not.
Still, I needed to run straight to the make-up girls and beg them to do something with my hair., and my face. I was almost there when my phone rang. There was no name but I recognised the number. Home, or more importantly, Toby.
"Hi Toby."
"Hi Kate. Just wanted to know how you where doing and everything."
He sounded nervous.
"Good. How are you?"
"My Mum's been going on and on about how I can find a nice girl now you're gone."
I laughed. "She was like that when I was there!"
I had never been completely sure why Minnie, Toby's mother had hated e. My family where always civil with him, they'd invite him for Sunday dinner and everything. Come Christmas Minnie wouldn't even give me so much as a card.
"Found any nice girl's yet?"
"No. You found any bad boys?"
"Of course. I have them lined up around the corner. You know me."
"Yeah. By the way your Mum says if you don't phone her soon she'll hire a hit man to get you, and knowing her it's probably true." "Right. Will do."
We said our goodbyes and hung up, but I didn't phone my Mum. What could I say about my lovely Mum? First of all she wasn't so lovely. I remember reading in Harry Potter then Mrs. Wesley could look like a saber tooth tiger, and so did my Mum. Don't get me wrong, I love her to death. But she's so full of do's and don'ts that it drives me up the wall and it's much easier not to talk to her. I'd leave it until later.
But later I found myself with John, jammed in a booth at some dark bar with lots of big men and pretty divas, all laughing loudly. I had counted ten full minutes before someone said:
"So, Kate. You're from England right?"
"Right."
"What's it like there?"
"Like America with class."
I knew how patriotic some people could be and as soon as the words left my mouth I half expected some to give me an earful. But they laughed. It seemed sarcasm was a crowd pleaser. Someone gave me a hard at on the shoulder.
"Good one."
I took a sip of my drink, mostly to stop myself saying anything else.
"Are you even aware when you're being sarcastic?" John asked me.
"No."
"Are you ever anything but sarcastic?"
"Only when I'm drunk." I replied holding up my glass.
"Well then, let's get you drunk."
Oh I could tell this wasn't going to end well.
4.
I'm one of those stupid people that never learns from my mistakes, even little one's. So when I attempted to curl my hair I wasn't at all surprised that I ended up with a splendid blonde afro that refused to hide under a cup. As luck would have it, I ran into John who'd saw my struggling with a camera case.
"So how was driving on the wrong side of the road?" he asked.
"Exactly like driving on the right side except not." I replied.
"You have no choice in the matter. You're coming out with me and a few other people tonight and if you say no, it means you're being anti-social."
I laughed, thinking he was joking and when I saw he wasn't my face fell. I couldn't go out, I was a mess, all except for my new shoes. The assistant at Foot Locker had laughed when I asked to look at the new Nike trainers.
"Sneakers!" he had said. "You Brits crack me up."
Needless to say I didn't buy them and instead opted for sketchers from somewhere else.
"I can't go out, look at me!"
"Don't worry. We'll go somewhere dark. No-one will notice."
He smiled and then walked away leaving me dumbfounded. I wasn't sure whether I hated him or not.
Still, I needed to run straight to the make-up girls and beg them to do something with my hair., and my face. I was almost there when my phone rang. There was no name but I recognised the number. Home, or more importantly, Toby.
"Hi Toby."
"Hi Kate. Just wanted to know how you where doing and everything."
He sounded nervous.
"Good. How are you?"
"My Mum's been going on and on about how I can find a nice girl now you're gone."
I laughed. "She was like that when I was there!"
I had never been completely sure why Minnie, Toby's mother had hated e. My family where always civil with him, they'd invite him for Sunday dinner and everything. Come Christmas Minnie wouldn't even give me so much as a card.
"Found any nice girl's yet?"
"No. You found any bad boys?"
"Of course. I have them lined up around the corner. You know me."
"Yeah. By the way your Mum says if you don't phone her soon she'll hire a hit man to get you, and knowing her it's probably true." "Right. Will do."
We said our goodbyes and hung up, but I didn't phone my Mum. What could I say about my lovely Mum? First of all she wasn't so lovely. I remember reading in Harry Potter then Mrs. Wesley could look like a saber tooth tiger, and so did my Mum. Don't get me wrong, I love her to death. But she's so full of do's and don'ts that it drives me up the wall and it's much easier not to talk to her. I'd leave it until later.
But later I found myself with John, jammed in a booth at some dark bar with lots of big men and pretty divas, all laughing loudly. I had counted ten full minutes before someone said:
"So, Kate. You're from England right?"
"Right."
"What's it like there?"
"Like America with class."
I knew how patriotic some people could be and as soon as the words left my mouth I half expected some to give me an earful. But they laughed. It seemed sarcasm was a crowd pleaser. Someone gave me a hard at on the shoulder.
"Good one."
I took a sip of my drink, mostly to stop myself saying anything else.
"Are you even aware when you're being sarcastic?" John asked me.
"No."
"Are you ever anything but sarcastic?"
"Only when I'm drunk." I replied holding up my glass.
"Well then, let's get you drunk."
Oh I could tell this wasn't going to end well.
