Wow I'm so excited!! I wonder where Erin's sis is.
Thank you!
I like this story already. I have a feeling that within these few weeks Erin will be there, a lot of drama will happen. Esp. with Callum. She might become attracted to him.
You'll soon see! Thanks for reading :)
Hi guys I usually don't get personal on here but I just wanted to quickly explain why this still isn't up so you guys don't think I've disappeared. There was a death in my family on NYE and I just haven't been in the right frame of mind to finish the editing on this. I'm in the process of doing it now but I can't focus so I just thought I'd let you guys know. I'm aiming for the 16th, it's likely to be sooner, I just don't wanna disappoint you guys again. Thanks for your patience xx
Great story!!! You're an amazing writer, I enjoy all your work can't wait to read more. Can we have chAracter pics?
Aww, thank you so much!
There aren’t pictures of the characters, just descriptions.
I need the next chapter! The story is so so this far.
Lol, only on Tumblr would someone send a message to let me know they feel my story is "so so".
I'm soooooooo glad you're back!!!!! Please don't leave us again, please. I'm still waiting for babygirl. though lol. I'm loving this story so far, I want Callum to be Chris Brown with blue eyes lol. Please add soon!!!❤️❤️❤️
I'm here to stay!Thanks for the love. There'll be a new add up for this tomorrow and babygirl. will resume sooner rather than later xo
Also will you be adding to Side Effects?
Yeah, when it's complete
Paris and Lauren sound like birds smh But i guess birds of a feather...
Lol
[If you’re new to this story, please go back a few posts to find the Introduction. This is not the first add.]
Chapter One: Richmond
My Aunt and Uncle owned the nicest house I’d ever seen.
The house had four floors, including a basement where Jason resided. The kitchen, dining and living room were on the ground floor; all rooms were ridiculously big and furnished in a way that made them feel extremely cozy. On the second floor was the master bedroom, Jason’s old room, Paris’ bedroom, the den and a large bathroom.
I couldn't help but think, as I wandered awestruck around the second floor, that I'd love to live in a house like this. It was just so... homey. So neat and tidy without feeling sterile, warm and cozy without feeling cramped, big and spacious without feeling hollow. All the best technology made the house feel modern and up-to-date, iPads and MacBooks and Apple TV galore, but not in a way that made it look over the top. It was perfect.
“We thought you might want some privacy, so you’re up here.” Uncle Clarke explained as he lugged my suitcase up another flight of wooden stairs to the third floor and opened the door at the top of it.
“Here we are.” He smiled. “I’ll leave you to settle in. The kids will be home soon and we’ll call you when dinner is ready.”
***
I’d dumped my suitcase onto the double bed of the guest room and unpacked the majority of my belongings. The room was big with white walls, wooden flooring and, thankfully, a big window that had been left open to let some cool air in. A television was mounted on the wall at the end of the bed and an iPod dock sat on the dresser beside a full-length mirror. Two double wardrobes sat up against the back wall, they were just begging me to buy more clothes to fill with them during my four week stay, a temptation I knew I would never be able to resist. Also on the back wall, to the left of the wardrobes was another door that upon entering I found out led to an en suite bathroom. As I looked around the fully equipped bathroom with a shower, toilet, sink and tub, I couldn’t help but wonder what my Aunt and Uncle did for a living that made them able to afford a home like this. Or maybe it was just the fact that I lived in New York where a place this size would cost near enough a million caused me to think you needed to be stinking rich to afford this.
Within minutes I’d already been able to make the bedroom look cluttered and messy with all my shit, no matter how neatly I tried to lay things out. I'd filled the wardrobes with my clothes; a sea of black garments that didn't seem to have a beginning or an end. I was a creature of habit. I wore nothing but American Apparel Easy Jeans and an assortment of black tops, and I had them by the truckload.
My prized possession, my Dads old leather biker jacket, had been hung up in the doorway. I'd been unable to keep many of his possessions after he passed, besides what he'd left in the will, so I cherished this jacket with all of my heart and soul. It brought back memories of him, like the kids in my class gawking over my 'cool dad' waiting for me out in the school yard adorned in leather and ripped denim, or him riding around the city on his motorcycle. The jacket swamped me; the shoulders were too big, the sleeves too long, but I wore it anyway. I always felt proud wearing my Dads jacket. It was like a badge of honor.
My makeup and hair products sat on the dresser. I was a liquid eyeliner enthusiast. That, and a billion coats of mascara, was all I wore on my face. My hair was another story. It was wild and untamed, and it hung to my waist in a tangle of curls that I religiously dyed the darkest shade of black. I spent my life going at my head of hair with my beloved GHDs, straightening it into submission, not stopping until it draped, pin straight, down my back. My Mom used to tell me that she was surprised I had any hair left with the way I'd go at, and my Dad would laugh, saying that us St. James' had enough hair for the whole of Manhattan.
I groped around in the bottom of my suitcase for a hairband and twisted my hair up into a topknot. The air felt cool on the back of my neck, a welcomed relief. I’d managed to work up a sweat while unpacking; trying to appear tidy really was hard work.
I kicked the empty suitcase under the bed and then collapsed on top of the mattress. The clock on the wall showed that it was only just after 9pm but I was exhausted. All that packing, unpacking and flying had worn me out.
I stretched out on the crisp, white sheets and stared up at the ceiling. Now that I had some time alone, I was beginning to feel anxious about meeting my cousins. I had never been good at meeting new people, making conversation, or any of the social skills that getting people to like me required. Whenever I did manage to trick someone into thinking I was an okay person, I’d manage to mess it up someway, somehow.
I’d vowed myself that that was all going to change now. I wasn’t waiting until the New Year to make a resolution. I, Erin St. James, had decided that I no longer wanted to be the anti-social, awkward girl in the back of the room. I was going to vibrant and present and friendly and outgoing and all of the other stuff that people aimed to be on their journey towards self-actualization. I had left unhappy Erin in New York. I had promised myself she would not make an appearance in Virginia and I intended to stick to it.
Suddenly, the door knocked and I sat upright on the bed.
“Come in,” I called.
The door swung forward and opened so that it blocked the view of the bed that I was sitting on.
“I’m here.” I said shyly, leaning to the side to get a look at the person who’d knocked.
“Hey.” A guy, who I assumed was my cousin Jason, had entered the room. He stood about 6ft tall, with rich brown skin and dark wavy hair. He’d inherited the same hazel eyes that my Dad and his Dad both had but had Auntie Jodie’s nose. “I’m Jason, you must be Erin.” I stood up and shook his hand when he offered it. “My Mom said dinner will be like fifteen minutes but she’ll call you down anyway.” He turned and left the room.
I managed to squeak out an “okay” as the door shut behind him.
I’d pulled out my hairband and had barely sat back down on the bed when the door swung open once again.
“Hello?” A female voice called as she entered. I didn’t have time to say anything before she looked around and spotted me on the bed. “Hey, Erin!” She bounded towards me and pulled me into a big hug as I sat startled and crushed within her grip. She released me and sat on the bed beside me. “Oh my God, you’re so pretty! Mom said you were pretty but oh my God!” I tried to thank her but her attention was now on my hair, which she had reached out to stroke. “Your hair is so long and pretty,” She gushed. “I cut mine a few months ago and I’m still trying to grow it back.”
She had paused long enough for me to speak so I seized the opportunity with both hands, “So you’re Paris?”
“Yeah, sorry, I forgot to introduce myself,” she smiled. “I love your accent, by the way.”
“Thanks, I -”
“I really want to visit New York one day, I love the way y’all speak, it’s too cute. My Dad’s accent has faded since he’s lived here so long, yours is a fresh one. I love it.” She paused to try and imitate the way I spoke. “So you’re Paris?”
I smiled; this girl was a motor mouth. “Pretty good.”
Paris grinned back at me. I took a moment to look at her; her and Jason looked a lot alike, they had similar face shapes, the same mouth and nose, the same eye color. Her hair was light brown with a side part and hung down straight just past her shoulders. She was a pretty girl.
“So how old are you?” She asked, braiding a portion of my hair.
“Twenty.” I responded. There it was again, the reminder.
“And how long you here for?”
“Four weeks.”
Paris tugged the hairband of my wrist and used it to secure the end of the braid she’d just finished. “Good, so I got like a big sister for a little while,” she glanced at me, her eyes gleaming, “Well actually you’re only like a year older than me so it’s more like twins.”
My eyebrows rose slightly and I relaxed them as she looked at me again.
Paris continued on jabbering about all the fun things we were going to do in Virginia until her Mom called us down to eat. It seemed like I wouldn’t have to worry about my ability to communicate when it came to her; she did enough talking for the two of us.
glad to see you're back. loved the first add for the story. xo
Thanks so much :)
Awesome 2 chapters, I can't wait to read more! Update soon!
I will do, thank you!