Just My Type

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'Fuck life.' The raven haired male thought to himself, as he trudged out of the van, pulling his suitcase with him. 

He begrudgingly walked over to the red lamppost in front of his new house, leaning against it, as he waited for his parents to finish their argument with the poor driver.

He squinted his eyes, and looked around at his new neighborhood, eyes lingering over a certain house that resembled his previous. It was at the end of the street, and looked very different compared to the others. 

They must be rich, he thought.

He looked back at his house, and scrunched his nose in disgust, at how small it looked compared to the one he'd just seen. 

He hated it.

He missed his old school, his friends, his life.

He hated that everything was stripped away from him just because of that one mistake.

He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He gently shook his head, and tightened his fist around his baby blue sweater.  

Maybe, this is better. Maybe, this is his chance for a fresh start.

The seventeen year old, was however broken out of his thoughts, when he heard the sound of wheels rolling on the concrete pavement. Quite a distracting noise, he thought.

He looked up to see his mother, dramatically drop the suitcase and place a hand on her back. 

"Lord, that was heavy," she intoned, pointing to the little suitcase, and the boy bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to laugh at his mother's over-the-top behavior. 

"Honey, why are you still here?" His mother asked, finally noticing him. 

"I don't know, maybe because you didn't give me the key?" He sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Oh right, I forgot," she paused, aggressively shuffling through her purse. "Here it is," she got it out, but ignored the outstretched palm in front of her. "Also, don't touch anything," she ordered, and only handed him the small golden key, after he had agreed.  

The boy fought back the urge to shove the damn keys down her throat, but simply nodded, and was about to walk away, when his mother let out a, 'take this with you too,' and quite literally shoved her suitcase at him.

The latter just scoffed, and took it with him because he knew better than to argue with her. 

He walked up to the familiar open-air front porch, while secretly admiring the orchids growing next to the little pillar.

He walked up the steps, and inserted the key, turning it. The door opened with a 'Click', and the boy slowly opened the door, being met with the odd smell of vanilla. 

He'd been here only once before, and he let out an awe, at how different it looked since then. 

The house had been vacant for around 2 years before they had decided to buy it. It was a rather impromptu decision, but oh well. 

The independent villa had a wrap around wood porch with two entries. The back, had an enclosed porch and a door that went to a small but modernized kitchen, laundry and half bathroom. There was a dinning room and a living room, situated on either side.

 All the trim was original; very thick, wood stained dark cherry. The flooring was not wood, but some sort of material that looked like it. 

All original doors to the rooms were still there. The bathroom on the ground floor was small but modernized and big enough for its purpose.