All Brand New {BoyxBoy}

All Brand New {1}

The drive to Athenside is tedious and silent on my side. Somehow worse than the plane from France filled with crying babies and snoring two rows behind me. I keep myself entertained by watching trees pass or spotting rabbits before the scenery becomes a steady blur. I have no interest in talking to the taxi driver but the air is a stalled breath, an almost sentence, never actually spoken aloud. The whole ride I am sure he will ask me about my day or mention the gloomy weather. He doesn't.

I have an hour to think about my decisions of late. I still can't believe I managed to get all the way to America. I had almost convinced myself the country didn't really exist and when my plane landed I'd wake up in my bed at home, sheets kicked to the end of the bed and pillow halfway across the room. I'd hear the front door slam shut and take that as my alarm to get up. The garage door would screech by the time I was downstairs and my mother would have turned off Rue de Septèmes as I'd be pouring cornflakes into my bowl.

We hit a pothole and the car jolts. My bags slam against the walls of the boot and I wince at the sound. God, if you let my laptop break I'll write an anti-bible just to spite you.

"Sorry. Can't see much with fog." The driver gestures to the open road where visibility is about ten metres in front of us and nothing more. Soon after the rain starts.

My mother is a busy woman. She travels for work almost every six months for a few weeks and finds me a mess when she arrives home. Getting the courage to tell her I wanted to drop out of a good university to become a writer almost killed her. Telling her I wanted to travel to another country to attend a small creative summer camp she'd never heard of almost killed me.

It starts pouring down and the clouds become evermore threatening. I listen to the rhythmic tapping of rain alongside the windshield wipers.

Bumpy gravel underneath the wheels moves me from my thoughts. I yawn, stretching my arms out as much as I can in the cramped yellow taxi. My phone tells me it's only six in the evening. Jetlag sets me at three in the morning. I'm exhausted.

"We're here," the driver says. "That'll be thirty-five." I hand him the money. The taxi is parked in front of the grand villa I'd only seen in photos. A few of the photos were of smiling, bright-eyed teenagers and young adults. Some of the home itself, the rooms provided and the activities they ran. It looks like something out of an X-Men movie. From what I can tell, the grounds themselves are enormous. On top of that, the photos were taken on bright sunny days with perfect lighting.

I lean forward, catching a glimpse of the dark clouds blanketing the sky. The rain is getting worse by the minute. This is Summer? Pathetic.

"Let's get your stuff quickly, less time we'll be in the rain." He turns off the engine and takes in a sharp breath before stepping out into the downpour. He makes his discontent heard as the rain starts to soak his clothes. I feel bad.

I unbuckle my seatbelt and help get my bags out from the boot. I'd only packed two. I don't need much, just the necessities plus my laptop and a few of my favourite books.

"I can take them," I say, grabbing the red duffle bags from him. He slams the boot and races back to the front seat. I say thank you, even though he can't hear me and is already in reverse down the long gravel drive. My clothes quickly stick to my body, hair sits flat against my forehead. The rain seeps into my bags before I even make it to the front door. This sucks. This really really sucks.

Athenside Gardens

I stare at the sign for a moment before working up the courage to open the door. I manage it with numbing fingers. The entrance opens up to a well-kept foyer. Once the door slams shut behind me I freeze up. The foyer led to a shared space filled with leather couches, bean bags, and a group of young people interrupted from an animated film. They turn towards me. So many eyes. My gaze meets the polished floor and my muddy sneakers.