A/N: hey so this is my first Glee fan fiction. I'm British so if there are any mistakes made with the American high school system or anything that doesn't make sense to someone who knows their way around the system, please tell me. The story is set in no time at all in particular except that there are a few characters who may not be there permanently but are key to the story so I've kept them in. Any mistakes, I will be eager to rectify. Thanks! :)
It's been three years since I last lived in America. To my disgust, my accent had disappeared within months and I was eager to get my 'natural' accent back as soon as possible. As I adjusted my watch to the time in Ohio, I thought fondly of Blaine Anderson, the boy who had persuaded me to come back to America. An openly gay student, who, the last time I had checked, attended The Dalton Academy, a private boarding school for boys in Westerville, an hour and a half from Lima. But that was last summer when he wrote to me from Lake Erie in Pennsylvania, our favourite place in America.
Blaine and I had met at our first year at summer camp when we were eight and nine, nearly eight years ago. I had been there when Blaine had told his friends he was gay, even though he had always lived in Ohio and I was in Massachusetts. Skype and Bebo had been our best friends even when Blaine transferred to Dalton, the summer I moved to England. A new place, a new start for both of us.
The plane was coming into land as I furiously searched for some form of signal on my phone. Typical, I sighed as I sat back in me seat. All I had done in the flight was watched the Starkid musicals back to back and then the Harry Potter films. I had only got half way through the Prisoner of Azkaban before the screen had been switched off by the aeroplane assistants as the plane began its descent. I looked out the window to see the dawn of a new day rising and the sky was an orange glow in the rising September sun. Blaine had told me so much about Lima, my new town and his hometown. Recently, there had been more news on a certain boy who had joined Dalton and then left, Kurt Hummel. Blaine wrote about him enthusiastically, as if he revered Kurt, if that was the right word for it. I was somewhat nervous about meeting Kurt, something Blaine had insisted on happening. 'You'll really like him Lottie. You helped me through the tough time and I'm helping him through his, even though he is the year above me. He's like a brother to me, like you are a sister to me.' I hated Blaine's nickname for me and he knew it. I could picture the sentence on paper and him saying it, as I closed my eyes, Blaine is concentrating on keeping in the sun as much as possible and writing in his neat, curvaceous handwriting filling more than a side of paper.
The flight touched down and I got my first look at Ohio. Blaine had described it to me, but even his intricate detail could not do justice to the place. Rolls of open green space folded out like a napkin on all sides. It was breathtakingly stunning, and I paused outside the airport, the soft morning breeze playing on my cheek. In London, it was 11am but here, most people would probably still be asleep. Thankfully I had adjusted my sleeping pattern ready for this. Wanting to fall asleep but convincing myself not to, I dragged my suitcases to where a yellow taxi was waiting for my family to take them to our new house. With most things already there, the luggage wasn't heavy or numerous and soon me, my parents and younger brother Michael were safely in the back of the cab, ready to embrace our new life. It wasn't as if this was new to any of us, not at all. I had actually been born in Canberra and Michael, four years later, in Pretoria. Dad had been offered a job as a sales director of a large firm in Massachusetts when I was eight. The job had been the longest I had ever stayed in one country. Then five years later, they moved to London and I had attended the local comprehensive. I had even started (horrified to admit it to myself) to enjoy London with all its noise and business. The Underground was nothing on the train system in Boston but it was enjoyable to make the journey from Victoria to St James' Park every day, even if it was only one stop. The moves always seemed to come just as I was starting to settle in and it infuriated me. Now a high school student, a junior in fact, I was enrolling at William McKinley High School, the best high school in the area. Blaine had a few friends there and so I, for the first time, wouldn't be diving in blind to the shark-infested waters of high school. Coincidentally, Kurt Hummel attended McKinley so I would bump into him either way.
I got my first glimpse of my new house after just a few minutes. It must have been a Victorian mansion and stood detached from the other houses. Each stood on its own. I stumbled out of the cab as it pulled into 137 Brook Avenue and we made our way up to the house. It stood with four floors and lots of windows arranged in lines showing the floors. Ivy clung to the brick and there were wild flowers growing out of the sides. The interior, however, was in major contrast with the outside. The hallway was light and spacious with doors leading off to different places. My mum guided me to my new room on the second floor. I felt as if I had just walked back into my old room in England. Harry Potter and Starkid posters and signed photos adorned the walls and mantelpieces. My bed, with its soft baby blue quilt was on the other side of the room. Dumping my suitcases, I collapsed onto my bed and fell asleep within seconds. Enrolment wasn't until tomorrow and there were many hours until tomorrow.
I only got two or three hours sleep as my adjusted sleeping pattern woke me up. I sat up and surveyed my room. Beneath all the posters was the wall painted a sky blue to match my quilt and curtains. There was a chest of drawers and a mirror above it, with green rope intertwining around the edge making it look like the ivy on the outside of the house. There was also a walk-in wardrobe that I couldn't see from where I was on me bed but I knew it was there. My desk and chair stood separately waiting to be used. I had picked it all out myself and loved every part of it. Two shelves were above the desk with files ready to have work stuffed into them. A comfy sofa and two bookshelves completed the room. I looked at my phone. Now with my American SIM card in, texts would be normal price again. It was now 10 o'clock and boy was I hungry. It was Sunday so Blaine would probably be rehearsing with the Warblers. Stuff that, I thought as I texted him to tell of my arrival. He was allowed out at weekends in 'mufti' but he spent (apparently) a considerable amount of time rehearsing. He was an amazing singer and so were the Warblers. They often sold CDs of our covers and I had all of them, thanks to Blaine, on my iPod. I would always pick out Blaine's voice from the group, even when he wasn't singing. Turning on my iPod from my travel bag, I hummed my favourite Warbler tune (Bills, Bills, Bills originally by Destiny's Child) as I tried to make my way down to the kitchen.
Cautiously, I made my way down the stairs. I could hear Michael's heavy breathing from one of the rooms but I couldn't see a kitchen on the first floor. It was always worth a try. As I wound my way down to the ground floor I sighed. There were so many rooms in the house. Even the house in Boston had been smaller. Dad's job must be super big to get a house like this, I thought as I went from room to room, searching for the kitchen. I came to it eventually and saw the gleaming surfaces and appliances looking as if they had never been used. I quickly checked the fridge and cupboards, decently stocked I noted. Pulling out a few ingredients, I was making American pancakes within minutes. Frying them in bacon fat made them taste all the better, I remembered from my experience as a cook. Michael was soon woken by the smell and soon we were tucking into bacon and pancakes, all drenched in maple syrup. Half way through my ninth pancake, I heard the doorbell ring.
"I'll get it!" I jumped to me feet and ran towards where I thought the door was.
It took me a minute or so to find the door but when I opened the door, there was nobody there. Stupid kids playing knock and run I thought with annoyance. I made to close the door but something caught me sharp ears. Somewhere, very softly, I could hear a voice. It was soft and harmonious.
"You say your faith is shaking and you may be mistaken. You keep me wide awake and waiting for the sun. I'm desperate and confused, so far away from you. I'm getting there, I don't care where I have to roam."
"Blaine!" I ran down the steps of the house and out onto the gravel driveway.
Looking left, I saw a boy with short curly black hair, wearing red trousers and a black tight-fitting t-shirt and pink sunglasses strolling away from the house and singing 'Misery' at the top of his voice. I ran over to him and nearly knocked him over with a bone-crunching hug. Then I realised I was still wearing my clothes from the flight. I stepped back as Blaine grinned and we both brushed ourselves down, I was slightly red in the face.
"Sorry, I got a little over-excited." I grinned. "We got in three hours ago."
"You've been sleeping since 7? I was up at 7." Blaine returned me smile.
"Rehearsing? Typical." Then I registered that they were standing in the middle of a road. "Come on in."
Blaine shook his head. "Sorry I have to get back. I'll probably be round later to help you unpack. In fact, there's a great restaurant in town called Breadsticks, it's on me. How about we say 7 o'clock? You can meet some of my McKinley pals. Kurt will be there too. Are you up for it?"
I nodded. "Sure. Do you have your license yet?"
Blaine sighed. "My test isn't until next week. Kurt is taking his new car out for a spin and I'm sure he can swing by."
"Thanks, so 7 then?"
"Sounds great, see you there."
We hugged once more and I watched as Blaine turned and walked down the road, now whistling another Warbler cover that I couldn't identify. Hurrying back inside, I made my way back to the kitchen and finished my breakfast. I raced upstairs back to me room and found my comfiest clothes. Throwing myself onto my sofa, I pulled out my phone and accessed Facebook, telling all my English friends I was finally in America. When I had told them that I was leaving for America, they were all really jealous. To them, America was where you went to be a film star or a singer, not to go and live in some ridiculous place that nobody knew about. They had been impressed though, it wasn't always that you go to live on a different continent. At least I had finished my GCSEs and been there for results day. I would have hated to have missed that. 8 A*s, 4 As, very satisfactory. I had been looking forward to dropping more subjects, but changing to the US meant I still had to do maths, English and Science, three of my least favourite subjects. But it was mandatory to do history which I didn't mind. Prompted by the website, on top of my eight subjects, I had chosen four electives: Drama, French, student newspaper and photography. The last two were after school so I had some time off during the day. It had been unclear whether they had a Glee club of some sort at McKinley that was going to be one to put to Blaine's friends from McKinley when they were at Breadsticks.
I looked at my watch, 10.30, boy was timing going slowly. I got up and dragged my suitcases to my walk in wardrobe and began to unpack. There were so many wardrobes to choose from and drawers, it was amazing. There were mirrors all around the room and at the far end was a dressing table where my entire make up would be. I could invite my new friends round and before we went to parties, we could get ourselves made up in my wardrobe. There was even a small ironing board and an iron built into the wall so I could iron any outfits that need urgent care. Eager to have every in its place as soon as possible, I began to unpack. When I was packing in England, I didn't realise I had so much clothes. Half of them had been sent to America and now lay in my wardrobe but I still had so many that I had to bring with me. My informal dresses lay in one wardrobe, next to the party dresses. It was very important to be able to differentiate between the two types of dresses. I couldn't go to one of my father's parties that he held often, in a dress I would wear to school! That would not do. My jeans were hung in the next cupboard with my skirts. They were the staple items of clothing along with my t-shirts. I preferred to wear jeans over a skirt but a skirt every time over a dress unless it was something special. Sure my father's parties were nice, but they were also numerous.
An hour and a half later, I had unpacked one suitcase of clothes. It was amazing how easily crumpled items could get just from being meticulously folded for a flight from England to America. It hadn't mattered when I went to camp as everyone's clothes were dirty and crumpled from the start. The house was now bustling as my parents started to unpack and Michael set up his Wii and X box downstairs. That boy played far too many computer games these days, I thought with disgust. Michael was going to the local junior high which was partnered with McKinley. At least he had a shorter journey to school. I was going to have to cycle to school, but at least I had a new bike and a reinforced chain.
My next suitcase was filled with just about everything else. Everything had been meticulously packed with newspaper stuffed around it to protect everything and, as I opened the suitcase, I was glad to note that my packing of this suitcase had been a lot more successful in its ability to keep itself together. Maybe the 'Fragile' sticker had helped. This suitcase would take longer. More Harry Potter and Starkid posters came out along with just about everything else that would complete my bedroom.
Three and a half hours later, after a quick hot dog lunch and plenty of more unpacking, I put my empty suitcases away and surveyed my bedroom. It had looked homely when I had woken up this morning but it had been empty of feeling. Now it had more character than ever and I felt truly at home. Sitting on my bed, I looked out the window. My bedroom was at the front of the house and overlooked the road that I lived on. Outside I could see kids cycling up and down, getting faster and faster. There were no teenagers around, but then they were probably hanging out in town, rather than hanging around in our street. Before I could complain though, I could hear the doorbell ring and my mother answer it. I crept to the top of the stairs and viewed the visitors. It was a family of five, with an older boy about my age and two younger kids about 11, one boy and one girl.
"Charlotte! There are some people I'd like you to meet!"
I stood up, took a few paces back and started to walk down the stairs, making it look as if I had just come from the top floor. It seemed to pay off, I hadn't got an A* in drama for nothing. I smiled kindly and the family smiled back. I studied the boy as I came down. He had blonde wavy hair that was cut fairly short. He was smiling as they shook hands.
"Charlotte this is the Evans family. Sam is also at McKinley. He started McKinley at the beginning of last year so he knows exactly what it's like."
"Pleasure to meet you Sam." I smiled.
"Yeah great to meet you too." He returned.
"Do you want to come in?" I stepped aside but Sam shook his head.
"No thanks, you guys are probably still settling in. if you want a tour of the town or anything or want to hang out tonight then I'm cool."
I grimaced. "Sorry Sam, I already said I'd meet up with an old friend of mine. He's got a few friends at McKinley and we're heading over to a place called Breadsticks tonight. Why don't you join us? I don't mind paying or whatever."
The adults had gone into the TV room and Michael had gone off with Sam's siblings so they were left on the doorstep.
"I suppose I better come in now everyone else has." Sam shrugged.
"I suppose you better. The kitchen is the warmest room in the house."
I closed the door, it was cold for September and they made our way into the kitchen. Pouring Sam a glass of water, we continued to talk.
"No, its cool, I'll pay. Sounds great. What time are they picking you up?"
"Seven. Do you know Kurt Hummel?"
Sam grinned. "Yeah, he's a great guy."
"So Blaine tells me."
"You know Blaine Anderson?"
"You do?" it's a small world, I thought. How strange Sam knew Blaine too. "Kurt's picking me up at 7 with Blaine, because he hasn't passed his test yet."
"I have, I could always take you. I suppose that might be a bit awkward, cancelling on a pick up and going with a guy you've only just met."
They laughed and there was an awkward silence. I poured myself a glass of water and sat down opposite Sam on one of the stools at the island in the middle of the kitchen.
"So how do you know Kurt?"
"I'm in the Glee club at McKinley with him. Are you a singer?"
"Singing and performing is my life. I absolutely love it."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Brilliant, well you'll love New Directions. Mr Schuchster, he teaches Spanish, is our director and there are like 12 or 13 of us. There was a rival Glee club but it kind of failed so the girls, who left, came back to us. Ask Ms Pillsbury, she's the school councillor, where to find us. I'm terrible at Geography and giving directions."
"Are you a junior or senior?"
"Senior. New Directions is kind of split between those two years. We haven't had anyone join us from the lower years."
There was a sound of clattering shoes on brand new floor. Sam's mum poked her head around the door. "Hello Charlotte, I'm Kathy. I'm Sam's mum."
"Oh, nice to meet you."
"You too, Sam we've got to get going. I'm sure Charlotte has a lot more unpacking to do."
"Not really Mrs Evans."
"Come on Sam." Kathy's tone turned sharp.
"Can I get your number Charlotte? Then we can talk later about tonight."
"Sure." I whipped out my phone and handed it to Sam. He punched in his number and I saved it quickly. "Great to meet you Sam, see you later."
I walked Kathy and Sam to the door and waved goodbye to them as he joined the rest of his family. I watched as he made his way back to his house, not far from ours I noted carefully. How lucky I was, I thought to myself. Now I knew two guys in the area, and one from McKinley that wasn't Kurt. Once again, my mind went back to the boy and what he would be like. Would he even like me? What if there was some really horrible incident which meant that Kurt hated me? What if he took our friendship to be a relationship? Charlotte calm down, I thought to myself. It isn't going to be bad. Any friend of Blaine is a friend of mine.
A/N: So? what do you think? Anything I can add to make it better?