This is a regular column featuring original poetry and fiction by and for teens, provided by Figment.com, the online community writing site for young readers and writers.
By Katelyn Phillips
The wind whipped my dirty blonde hair in my face as I stood out on the curb waiting for my brother. Louis was late, but then again when wasn't he? I set my luggage down beside me and pulled out my iPod. I might as well do something while I waited for him, I mean who knew how long I'd be here. As I inserted my earbuds I sat on my luggage, careful to pull down my skirt I had decided to wear. The wind was already nipping at my bare legs. Sometimes I swear I'm so stupid. I guess when I was dressing for the plane I hadn't thought through how different London would be from California.
I took in my surroundings and instantly started comparing England to Cali. The temperature was definitely colder. Even though the sun was out it was still chillier than what I'd expected for November. Back in California at this time my wardrobe was just making the shift from shorts to capris and t-shirts, no jacket required. I guess the temperature here shouldn't have surprised me though, I had once read that at this time of year in Michigan they sometimes already had snow. How ridiculous is that? The traffic was still bad, but it didn't look as though people had quite as horrible road rage as back home. Maybe English people really are more sophisticated... But then again, maybe not.
Just then some jerk face came from behind me and tipped me off my suitcase. I flew forward and I felt my skirt fly up. Stupid, stupid me. I would've pulled it down if I didn't have to protect my face. The last thing I needed was a trip to the hospital on my first day in a new country. I flung my arms outward just in time to save my face from becoming a part of the pavement. During all the commotion I had been briefly aware that my iPod had flown with me. Realizing it had come down with me too, I started looking for where it landed. The earbuds were no longer plugged into it. Crap. About four feet away from me was me iPod. My new iPod. I grabbed it and stood up, adjusting my skirt and started examining my iPod with the other. The screen was cracked beyond repair and when I unlocked it, it didn't respond to my touch. Did the person have any idea how long it took me to save up for it? How long it took me to compile the perfect music library? Too long to start over. I turned around to glare at the murderer of my iPod.
But I only found Louis and four of his friends all cracking up at something I apparently didn't get. I took out my dangling earbuds to turn my ever imposing glare on them, but the fact that they were all laughing made me stop.
"What's so funny?" I asked confused. I didn't think my fall was all too funny.
"Hello... Hello kitty?!" Louis' blonde friend said, out of breath and wiping tears from his eyes. He had a strong accent that I couldn't place at the moment. Hello kitty? What were they talking about? Then it struck me: my underwear. Why hadn't I pulled down my skirt earlier? Why hadn't I worn cuter panties? I blushed a bright red and looked down at my feet. At least I had worn cute shoes.
"O... Okay you guys, we had better stop." Louis said calming himself.
"Lou, you never told us your sister was such a laugh." This time I could definitely tell the blonde one's accent was Irish. And now that he wasn't dying with laughter, he was actually pretty hot. I looked around. They were all hot. Great I just made a total fool out of myself in front of four extremely attractive guys and my brother. Score one for socially awkward Katelyn.
"Well Niall, I haven't seen her since last year." It was hard to believe it had been almost a year since he last visited. He had been shipped off to England when he was two and I was just a baby. So only he had the whole British accent thing going on. For a little bit in my childhood I didn't even know I had a brother, but we became really close when dad died and Lou came to live with mom and me for a year.
I tugged on the hem of my skirt and pulled my jacket sleeves over my wrists more until they covered part of my palms in a nervous habit. It was about four more minutes of awkwardness before we finally left. In those four minutes, Lou introduced me to all his friends: the blonde Irish one was Niall, the tall, dark and handsome one was Zayn, Liam was the classic lightish-haired hottie, and Harry was the curly-haired, adorable one who was closest to my age. I was 14 (15 tomorrow), Harry and Niall were 15, Liam and Zayn were 16, and Louis was the oldest at just turning 17. After the few minutes of introductions, Louis picked up my suitcase and motioned me towards his car he had parked down the street. As I was shoved into the backseat between Harry and Niall, I prayed that the rest of my luggage had arrived here safely. I also prayed for my safety as we started driving down the left side of the street. I could already tell England would be way different than the US.
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