A Bit of Both

Some people can probably relate to me, from being their name is Alana, or, they are fourteen years old, and even that their parents are divorced and they are constantly switching back and forth, back and forth, from one house to the other one, and back to the one before and... yes.
But, I don't think you'll be able to relate to a more personal situation I'm currently stuck in.
Since my parents live in separate places, a good way away form each other, there are bound to be different people in the two places, right?
That's the problem.
There's romantic, understanding Evan down opposite my mums cottage in Brighton, by the coast, and good looking, caring Liam in the flat above my dads, in busy London.
And, because I'm me, I've fallen for them.


2. Who do they think I am, Wonder Woman?



A rather loud melody of bells emerged from under my pillow and I slipped a hand under my comforting head rest, frantically fumbling about in search of the darn phone, eager to turn off the irritating sound that only meant one thing. Waking up.

After my toasty feet found their way to the cold, bare floor boards of my mums cosy cottage on the coast of Brighton, decorated with Vintage accessories, I somehow managed to wobble across to the other side of my room to open the white and red checked curtains, that allowed view to the cottage opposite us. 

The cottage was similar to ours, apart from the odd colour on the window frames etc. It's odd, a small family I haven't seen yet is moved into the cottage yesterday (meaning today is *sigh* Monday*) and the day I go back on the weekend to dad in his cheap, musky flat in a dodgy estate in London, a family is moving into the flat above my dads.

Pretty odd, no?

I brush it off carelessly and make my way to the bathroom in which I take a steamy shower, closing my tired eyes for but ten minutes, enjoying the morning song of the loud seagulls hovering along the beach. Wiping away the condensation from the mirror, I proceeded to brush my pearly whites and afterwards, made funny faces in the mirror.

I know most girls would probably strike poses or practice their smiles, but I don't. It's no use - I end up looking like a confused duck if I try and pout sexily, and baring my teeth similar to a dog, if I attempt a toothy smile. I think I can just get away with my crooked closed mouth smile.

The tempting smell of breakfasts pancakes and chocolate spread (maybe not the most healthy option but who cares?) hurries me on to pulling on my dull uniform we're forced to wear for my all girls secondary school. I try my best at making it a little more interesting by turning up the knee length grey skirt to make it rather short, and pulling my night black socks up to just below my knee. Then I turn up the sleeves of the sickly coloured blazer, revealing an exciting pop of sky blue, that matches the sweet, salty sea sky.

Unfortunately my school isn't near the coast, nor near my dads place in London. It's in between, meaning I have to get up very early to catch the train. I don't particularly mind, seeing as mum usually packs me a little sweet treat for the journey.

I would have gone to a regular one near my mums cottage like Gull Secondary, which is a mixed school, however I was still deciding whom I would prefer to stay with during the week (which is when I attend school), so I ended up attending one exactly in between London and Brighton.

I guess it's kind of convenient, in case I can't go to mums for the week for some reason, meaning it would take the same amount of time getting to school from London as it would Brighton.

The school is called Burtons Secondary School for Girls. The only good thing about it is that... oh wait, there isn't a good thing about it. I guess I am in all the top groups and achieve high results, but I think that's only because I may be a bit clever yes, but mostly as I can't chat or do anything distracting in class. If we do, we instantly get detention after school, for two hours. Harsh or what huh?

It's not as if I'm wanting to get home at night, right? I have to get the train for goodness sake! Who do they think I am, Wonder Woman, who can get everywhere in a click of a finger. Can Wonder Woman even do that? Even so, you're missing my point. I like getting home and being able to relax or complete homework that needs to be done, rather than sitting slumped in a chair in a class room, thinking about nothing in particular, with the distant burble of some pointless lecture about talking in class!


Anyway, I hopped onto the train after a yummy breakfast and sat next to the window, placing my school bag on the seat next to me, implying the message  'Don't you dare sit here!'

I curled up on the tatty seat, bringing my legs up to my chest, letting my mind waver absent mindedly over nothing particular. My thoughts were interrupted  by a "Hey, there's no other seats, you mind if I sit here?"

That voice, it was a boys one, maybe my age, and yes, it was pretty hot. 'Alana, how can a voice be hot?' I hear you say. Well it can, okay?

I turned round to see a boy (duh) with messy surfer, sandy blonde hair and a square jawline. His teeth were as white as snow, complimenting his heart melting smile. He wore a uniform like me, but it was trousers of course. That's when it hit me. He went to the Burton school for boys! I've never seen him before though... maybe he is new?

I managed to stutter a yes, and quickly moved my bag to under my feet. He chuckled, and introduced himself. "I'm Evan" he told me, facing me with a welcoming smile.

"Alana" I grinned, and quickly looked down, remembering my lack of talent when it came to smiles. "That's a pretty name" he grinned back, cocking his perfect little head to one side, looking me up and down. I blushed a shade of red.

Ugh, forget Fifty Shades of Grey, more like Fifty shades of red.

"I see you go to the opposite of my school then huh?" I said, looking pointedly at his uniform. He nodded in response, "So, Alana-what-a-pretty-name" He started, and we both laughed together, "Where about do you live, I mean you obviously live in Brighton," He asked.

"Down Jesmand Street, the one with all the cottages, but I live with my mum, and go up to London on the weekend to stay with my dad,".

The train stopped abruptly and clumps of people began to file off, including Evan and I. "Cool, me too, in fact, I just moved into one of the cottages, yesterday!" I heard him say, before we were separated by the crowds.



In cloud grey swarms, girls entered the large school. It was quite old on the outside, and inside, but we still had all the latest technology and such.

Matching to our uniforms,  the walls were stony and grey, and the windowns large, their frames a soft blue like the insides of our blazers.

Since it was Monday, our year had assembly in the main school hall.

The air was stiff and muggy, and everyone was all sweaty and clammy. Since it was a whole year assembly, rather than a house assembly, we were squished together, with no space at all.


As my claustrophobia got the better of me, my breathing quickened and panic danced in my eyes. My best friend Lottie noticed, and she put a firm hand of my shoulder, and looked at me, worried. "We need to take you to the loos Al, now. C'mon. The teachers will understand," She announced, concern dripping off her tongue.

She grasped my sweaty hand and hurriedly led me out of the hall, the teacher giving us an understanding nod.

By the time I'd reached the toilets, I'd felt a bit better, just rather panicked and sick.

Lottie propped me up on the sinks and handed me some water to drink. I hadn't had this much of a panic since last year.

I gingerly sipped the water and let a satisfying sigh escape my dampened lips, as the silky liquid coated my dry, raw throat. Lottie nodded in approval, and jumped up next to me, her arm draped around my hunched over back. I lay my head on her shoulder and whispered "Lottie?"

"Mmm?" She said. I told her all about Evan and the train ride.

We strolled back to class with grins plastered on our faces. As we opened the door, the teacher snapped at us. "Why are you grinning, you're late, detention!"

"But sir, in assembly, Al, I mean, Alana's claustrophobia got the better of her and she had a, say, panic attack. I cheered her up a little in the loo's and gave her some water, she was nearly sick sir. So, please, don't give us detentions!" Pleaded Lottie. I leant against the wall, closing my eyes and pressed three fingers on my forehead, to add effect.

Sir grunted and waved us on to our seats. Lottie and I exchanged winks. Victory!


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