To 18 year old Emma Slater, New York, England, is her whole life. It's where she grew up, the streets she played on, the streets she learnt to walk on, the streets she rode her first bike on. It's home.
But it's also the streets where she dealt drug...
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A/N - This is a picture I took myself (no filter!) of the Oude Kerk Church in Amsterdam, just for reference.
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The next morning, I was utterly shattered, but still woke up at Six o'clock and went downstairs for breakfast, trudging down the stairs and feeling as if they were never going to end. Bram appeared to notice my exhaustion, and served me nutella on toast with a bowl of grapes in silence. He added a strawberry atop the grapes, and I gave him a soft smile as I headed to my usual table.
Like clockwork, Mrs Elderflower entered the reception, striding confidently towards the kitchen bar, where a bowl of fruit was handed to her. It was ever so slightly colder today, still hot but not stifling, now not hot enough to feel like your skin was actually burning off. She wore a tan, tailored jumpsuit with white slip on shoes, her hair up in it's usual, relaxed bun.
Mrs Elderflower turned, her eyes flickering towards me, but she headed to the opposite side of the seating area and perched on table in the corner, away from the sunlight, next to a plain white wall, taking out her newspaper to read.
I sat back in my seat, contemplative. So, this was how she wanted to play it? Ignore me completely, pretend it never happened, just like after the ball two months ago?
I was not going to let that happen, not going to let things go back to exactly how they were before.
No.
I took my empty plates back to the kitchen, then turned and sauntered back towards the stairwell, feeling her eyes on me as I walked past. I had noticed her fruit bowl was empty, so she was evidently waiting for me to leave. I flopped down on the top stair of the concrete stairwell, flicking through my Instagram explore page. Only five minutes passed and the door to the reception opened. Blue eyes regarded me with an icy intensity, flickering emotions of suprise, then guilt, then anger registering as she opened her mouth.
"Emma? Are you waiting for me?" she accused, folding her arms across her chest.
"Uhh... no?" I lied easily, frowning, "Why would I be waiting for you?" It was cruel, I knew it, but I couldn't help myself.
"Oh." she looked embarrassed, and her cheeks flushed red, "I-I just thought-"
"You thought wrong," I shrugged, "Have you seen Rachel? She said she was getting breakfast." I added casually, as if nothing was different.
"Um. No." Mrs Elderflower whispered, before hurrying past me, climbing the stairs with a surprising grace considering she was taking two steps at a time.
Around Ten minutes to Nine o'clock, I was standing outside my room, once more flicking through my phone. Mrs Elderflower came out of her own room, glancing up in surprise as our eyes connected. I smirked.
"I know what you're doing!" she hissed, glancing up and down the corridor, "Cut it out."
"I'm not doing anything." I responded smoothly, slipping my phone into my pocket and disappearing into my room, shutting the door on a fuming Mrs Elderflower.
