Left Me Lookin' Like a Knife Fight

Alexe is sure that moving to Sydney, Australia is the worst thing that could happen to her, and she is determined to not let anything change her mind.

Of course, nothing actually works out they way she expects it to.

Title from Buddy Wakefield's "Hurling Crowbars at Mockingbars".

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1. Chapter One

It was beyond Alexe why her family had to move to Australia. She understood what an honour it was that her father had been chosen as the ambassador, but now her entire life had been uprooted and carried around the world.

There were boxes stacked all around her new room, and she had no idea were to even start with her unpacking, so instead she took a seat in her bay window and pulled her laptop out of its bag, opening it and logging in.

Of course, her Twitter timeline was full of her friends' updates. Alexe closed her laptop again with a sigh. She had no interest in seeing how much fun her friends were having without her.

At least the view is nice, she mused to herself as she looked out over the water. Her parents had bought a beautiful house, as if trying to make up for the fact that they had uprooted her from the only place she'd ever known.

"Alexe, could you come downstairs please?" Her mom called up the stairs.

"Gee Mom, I don't know, can I go back to North America?" She mumbled to herself, but stood up and weaved through the boxes anyways.

Her mother, Andrée Fleury, was waiting in the kitchen, seated at the island, dipping cucumber slices into ranch dressing. She looked up when her daughter entered, and smiled.

"Do you like your bedroom Al?"

Alexe shrugged and opened one of the doors to their new fridge, removing orange juice from the door and getting a glass from the cupboard. "The view is nice for sure."

"It's beautiful from our bedroom as well, although I'm sure being able to see the water is gorgeous."

"It is nice, isn't it?" James, Alexe's father, entered the kitchen as well.

"I prefer Canada," Alexe replied just this side of cool.

"Être gentille," her mother warned. (Be nice.)

"Desolée maman." (Sorry Mom.)

"Are you excited to start school tomorrow?" James asked, overlooking his daughter's anger.

"Oh I'm thrilled! My entire life has been displaced, but I have high school to look forward to!" Alexe raised her glass as if making a toast and left the room.

"Make sure that cup gets put in the dishwasher!" Andrée called after her.

The next morning, Alexe's alarm went off at half past six and she flailed around, tangled in her sheets before flopping to the ground.

"I hate Australia," she grumbled to herself and stumbled her way into the bathroom.

It took a 15 minute shower and 15 minutes of getting dressed before she felt remotely human. Her "first day at the new school" outfit consisted of a white sleeveless shirt that read "Killin it all the time" in grey, light wash denim shorts, tan leather boots with a chunky heel, and a brown, tan, and white flannel shirt. Her long, dark brown hair was curly and out of control like usual, and she only wore eyeliner and mascara.

"ALEXE ANASTASIA FLEURY YOU ARE GOING TO BE LATE!" Her mom shouted.

"En retard for being early?" Alexe snarked as she joined her mother at the front door, apple in hand. (Late)

"Chèrie, I know starting over in a new place is very difficult for you, have you taken your pills?" (Dear)

"Yes mom, last night."

It was a short drive to her new school, but it was enough time for Alexe to feel the beginning of a panic attack coming on. (Fortunately?) She was sidetracked by an asthma attack and had to fish out her inhaler.

"All before 8:15," she sighed to herself as her mom pulled in.

Her mom had been on the phone the entire car ride, and now hung up via Bluetooth and took one of her daughter's earbuds out. "Alexe I have bad news sweetie."

"Let me guess, it's your new law firm and you have to go," Alexe responded. "C'est d'accord maman, au revoir." (It's okay mom, bye)

"Goodbye sweetie, good luck today."

Alexe swung her bag over one shoulder and headed into the building. True to form, she made it to the school's office fine, and received her schedule and locker number and combination, and made it approximately five steps down the hall in a vaguely right direction before running into someone who was so tall she didn't even see their face. She stumbled backwards, dropping her schedule and almost falling backwards from the weight of her backpack.

"Oh god, I am so sorry," the boy said, looking sheepish. "You're just kinda really short."

"Unsurprisingly, I get that a lot," she replied. "It's my fault, I should know better than to walk with my head down."

"I'm Ashton, and you are clearly not from Sydney, so who are you?"

"I'm Alexe, and you are correct I am very far from being from Sydney. Try Ottawa, and you'd be much closer."

"Alright Canada, meet your first friend. I'll show you to your locker, my friends are over there anyways, you can meet them."

He gestured down the hallway to where a group of abnormally tall boys were watching them curiously.

"Lead the way," Alexe replied gamely, squaring her shoulders and following him.

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