Perfectly Dysfunctional

It turns out we were leaving in two weeks and that in actual fact he’d been planning this for weeks now. The worst part about it was telling my friends I was leaving. I only had a few really close friends, but there were all the people I spoke to regularly from school that had just finished, or people who’d left the year before who were now in college or uni. I had to tell them I was leaving, didn’t I? It wasn’t fair to just leave them be, wondering what the hell happened to me, especially after all those years together.

First to know was my best friend Emma. It was heartbreaking, but I had to do it. I’ve never felt so bad, but she was really supportive, despite how clearly gutted she was. For the next two weeks we spent almost every day together, and she even helped me pack my life away into boxes. We were in my room, when my dad was downstairs, packing my clothes and shoes up into suitcases whilst listening to my iPod.

My dad came up to stand at the door of my room; “London.”

I frowned at Emma who threw a couple of t-shirts in a case and we both turned to face my dad, “You mean that’s where we’re moving?”

“Yeah,” he grunted, "About half an hour away from the centre," he mumbled before walking away.

I glanced at Emma, “Well now we know.” I said and threw shoes from one end of my room to the other where the cases were. All Time Low came on and I smiled when Emma grinned then her face fell.

“It’s a shame it wasn’t America; you could’ve met them,” I laughed and she continued, “Or Hey Monday! They’re from America, right?” I nodded, smiling.

“Yeah, but a lot of bands live in London too,” I laughed. “McFly for one.”

“Aw, I do miss the days when we were obsessed with them,” she said then started a full-blown rant about how they took too long to bring out their last couple of albums, leaving us to fall from the obsessed level to the we-just-like-them level. It made me laugh as we threw more things into the cases not bothering to fold anything until we had it all piled up. Emma suddenly gasped and her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes going wide. I jumped and dropped all I was holding in the process then clutched at my heart, “Emma! Jesus Christ! What happened?”

She squealed a little, “Well, London-” She cut herself off as Say It On The Radio by The Wanted came on and I frowned and she cleared her throat and continued, “Think Geography for a second here, Jenny.”

I groaned, “Do I have to? I’ve just left school!”

“Focus!” she said quickly, ignoring my comment, “Help me to help you understand this,” she jutted her head towards my speakers. “Who lives in London?”

I grinned at her when it clicked, “The Wanted...”

“It's apparently about half an hour away from the centre that they live, as well.”

I stopped what I was doing, “Emma, how would you even know something like-“

“I just know things, okay?!” she laughed and tossed a pair of shorts. I laughed and we fell into silence again. Emma laughed after a few moments and I questioned her. She raised one shoulder in a shrug with a smirk on her face; “Look out London.”

“Oi,” I said then threw a shoe at her leaving her rubbing her head and glaring at me, “I’m not some deranged teenie, y’know!” She said nothing but raised her eyebrows at me, “Yet...” We both laughed and continued packing stuff away before calling it quits for the night and getting dinner.

Up until the day I left, I told other people when I seen them around town, when I went out with them, or over the phone or computer if I didn’t see them that often. Everyone seemed to be surprised at the news, but they accepted it and wished me luck with my new life. And every damn time, the term ‘new life’ petrified me.