“But, Mum,” I groaned. “Please, don’t make me go to school!” She shook her head and I sent her a scowl.
“I’m sorry, Maude,” she said, “but you have to go to school in order to become a big and smart girl.” I scoffed. For a seven year old, I sure had an attitude that any teen would be jealous of, my mother always scolded, but I couldn’t really see it myself. “Come on, let’s get going. Got everything you need?” I nodded, following her out our new front door, down an unfamiliar drive, and into a Range Drover – or something of the sort – that smelt of…new car.
“Why?! Why couldn’t I just go to school back home, in France? With my friends!” I yelled; I was very close to tears, so I turned my head to look out of the window.
She sighed and exasperated sigh, something I found myself hearing often coming from those soft, pink lips that were worn from being kissed so many times. “You know why, honey, I couldn’t support us very well over there. And your father…well, he made it very clear that we weren’t welcome anymore. So, Aunty Sheila offered me a job over here…and look, here we are. Home sweet home.” I huffed: I knew this already, but still, the unfairness stung.
“PJ and Emma didn’t have to come.” It was clear to me why we were here and that it was a new, fresh start for us, but I found it completely out of order that I had to come but my brother and sister didn’t. Though, given the choice between staying with my mother or father, I probably would have come here with Mum anyway – not that I liked it here, but I hated my dad even more. Probably because he hated me just as much, maybe even more.
“They’re older. And…you know your father…he –” She cut off just as we came to a halt outside my new school. It was crowded and busy, just like any other education centre across the world, but everyone here was wearing the same clothes: a uniform! Just like the one I had on – ugly stuff – but it all looked so different on people in the whole. It made everything seem real, like waking up from a dream and realising that it was reality all along. I took a deep breath and pushed open the passenger door before climbing out. My mum rolled down the window and looked at me with apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry, my chéri. I will come pick you up tonight, have a nice day. I’m sure you will make lots of new friends. I love you,” She said to me solemnly in French, something we only ever did when we were serious…or around other people who could speak French…or at home. But never out in public. I have no idea why: it just wasn’t done in our family, not even back home. Even though it was obvious where we were from because of our thick accents.
“Je t’aime, aussi,” I whispered right before my mother and the car drove off, leaving only a cloud of smoke behind.
Someone coughed and I whirled around, only to find a boy standing about an inch away from my face. I blinked my widened eyes and he blushed slightly, stepping back.
Now that I could see him clearly, I could see that he was kind of cute – well, in a yucky, boys-are-icky-and-have-cooties sort of way. He had blonde hair and large, blue, round eyes that were framed with dark lashes. He was wearing the same dull uniform that we all were, but he somehow managed to pull it off. I could somehow see myself becoming friends with – wait, what was his name? “Hi, I’m Maude Sykes. I’m new here.” He grinned.
“I could tell, Maude. You have that kind of lost look in your eyes, plus, I’ve never seen you around here before.”
“Are you asking me if I come here often?” I had heard my sister and a boy having this conversation back home and just hoped that the translation worked as well in English: I didn’t want him to think I was weird, because then, I’d have to find someone else to show me around. But, luckily, he laughed and I joined in too; his laugh was that type of laugh that was infectious and hurt your sides after a while.
“I guess I am. My brother always uses that to pick up girls, though I’ve always found it a strange saying.” I stuck my hand out to him, a thing that my mother had always taught me to do, saying that it was polite and what ‘proper ladies’ would do. He blushed again and took my hand, pulling me towards the school with my grip still in his. I was going to pull away, but he started swinging our arms together, and it felt fun. Something my dad used to do with me when I was very little, before I became bad and he didn’t like me anymore. It made me decide that I liked this kid, he could maybe bring home to me. “I’m Niall, by the way. And, let me say, I think you’re very pretty.” At his comment, I blushed, before reminding myself that I don’t like boys. I am a strong, independent big girl that doesn’t need a man in her life. We stopped outside the head teacher’s office and he stopped and turned to me. “Welcome to Ireland, Maude. I think we’re going to be very good friends.”
Alright, what do you think so far? This is my first Movella so don't hate it too much! Please like, comment, and fave! Tell me what you think and if I should keep going. Thanks.