A Lie Too Late

“Josh, wake up.”
My mother was standing in the doorway of my half-empty room, a gentle smile on her face.
“What?” I groaned, sitting up.
“Your friends are here to see you off.” she answered, before stepping out of my line of sight.
Confusion swept across my features until I remembered what day it was. It was Moving Day.
Today claimed the last hours I was spending in London, the city I grew up in. It was the day I was leaving it all behind.
It wasn’t like I was going very far; just a couple hours to a place called Sheffield. The company my dad worked for was transferring him there.
Shaking all thoughts out of my head, I forced myself out of bed and towards the barely closed suitcase that held the remainder of my possessions.
Majority of our things were already at the new house, waiting in neatly packed and clearly labeled boxes.
Rummaging through the crumpled articles of clothing, I decided on a pair of skinny jeans and a button up shirt.
It was obvious I wouldn’t be able to fix my hair properly, so I placed a gray beanie over my head and called it good.
My phone was charging besides the blanket and pillow that made up the current state of my bed.
Grabbing it, I pocketed the small device and traipsed downstairs into the empty living room.
“Josh!”
Putting on a smile, I turned towards the people clustered against the wall, a pink box in their laps.
“Hey!”
Matthew was the first to stand, pulling me into a tight hug. “I really can’t believe you’re leaving!”
“I know...” I trailed off, trying not to think about it.
I was leaving the only life I knew behind and starting all over somewhere else. Sure, I was already a senior.
Eventually, I would be leaving home and starting my own life.
However, it was only November!
I was supposed to have a handful of months left before I embarked on my journey against the world.
It was in the midst of these thoughts that I hadn’t noticed Matt had let go of me, his arms replaced by Christopher.
“How are we supposed to start a band if you’re living three hours away from the rest of us?” Joe demanded.
“Come on mate!” I laughed, attempting to seem carefree. “It’s just a couple months, and I’ll be back as soon as I graduate!”
“You better.” Max muttered, hugging me next. “You promised us fame and fortune. We’re not going to get that without a frontman.”
“You know...” Daniel started. “We’re the ones making up the band. We could just replace our lead singer and call it good.”
I could tell he was joking, but I still felt my stomach drop.
What would happen if they just forgot about me, and I was replaced by someone else?
Not just in the aspiration of our band, but in our friendship as well?
Snap out of it Josh, I demanded myself. I was moving a few hours away, not all the way to America!
“Are we going to give Josh his goodbye presents, or talk about replacing him?” a more feminine voice spoke up.
Alicia stood up from her spot on the ground, clutching the pink box closer to her. Her fading purple highlights shone in the light.
“Give me my presents!” I demanded, forcing a laugh out of me.
Out of everyone here, I would miss Alicia the most. She was my closest friend, and we had come close to dating once.
However, we didn’t want to ruin our friendship with a potential break-up, so we had tried to move past that.
She still liked me though, it was obvious.
Opening the box, I grinned when I saw the contents of the flimsy pastry box. There were a few chocolate cakes, topped with vanilla frosting.
“Do I have to share?” I asked immediately, glancing around the room. They all shook their heads in agreement.
“A little something for the road.” Max smiled, nodding at me. “So you can take a piece of home with you.”
Hummingbird’s was a little American-style bakery downtown, where Alicia worked. They knew it was my favorite place in London.
“But with your luck, they’ll be gone by the time you reach the driveway.” Daniel laughed.
There was a twenty minute period of time, where we just laughed and talked about our friendship.
We had all known each other since about Year Four, back in Primary School.
“Guys, I hate to ruin your time together but it’s almost time to go.” my mother interrupted apologetically.
“It’s fine Mum.” I breathed in relief.
I wasn’t sure how much longer I could handle putting on a smiling face for the six people I had grown up with.
“Before you go!” Max yelled, catching Christopher’s eye.
They ran into the little alcove under the stairs where they were hiding a large, badly wrapped blob.
“Um...?” I questioned, glancing at them.
“Open it!”
Sighing, I tore off the brown butcher paper and stared in awe at the obvious guitar case.
Gingerly, I unlatched the case and opened it to reveal a beautifully crafted honey-brown acoustic guitar.
It wasn’t brand new, but it was still in excellent condition.
There were personal messages from all of them, carefully scribbled along with body of the instrument.
“You guys...” I choked out, breaking into a genuine smile.
In our future band, Chris and Max were destined to be the guitarists. Over the summer, they had been teaching me how to play.
I had always borrowed their acoustic to practice.
“Now you can keep practicing, even without us.” Chris advised. “We can video chat if you need any help.”
Nodding, I smiled in thanks because I couldn’t form words around the lump in my throat.
I was honestly afraid I’d break into tears if I tried.
“We should really go now.” Joe whispered, taking in my mother’s impatient posture near the entryway.
“Yeah.”
We hugged goodbye one last time, and faster than I wish was possible, they were gone.
Trudging upstairs, I threw my blanket and the last of my things into an empty cardboard box.
Taping it shut, I took a moment to stare around my empty bedroom and wish it goodbye.
It had been my room since I was an infant.
Bringing the box downstairs, I crammed it into the trunk of my dad’s car and went back to retrieve my guitar and cakes.
Sitting in the backseat, I waited as my parents brought out the last of our things and locked up the house.
Putting in my headphones, I turned up Underoath.’s newest album and just let the songs play on repeat.
Closing my eyes, I avoided seeing the neighborhood I grew up in pass my by. I refused to see my favorite city pass me by.
I was leaving it behind, and I don’t think I could handle another goodbye.



“What do you think of the new house?”
We were sitting around the dinner table, just spending a moment together.
This was the first time in the past four days since we moved to Sheffield that we were sitting together.
Hot tea was nestled between our palms, and a box of cookies was placed in the middle of the table.
My father had found a small bakery just two blocks away from the house.
“I think it’s nice.” I answered, biting into a cookie.
The crumbs littered around my lips, but I didn’t feel like brushing them away.
“It’s a lot bigger than our old one.” Mum commented, looking out the large bay window.
We had a sliver of a backyard, leading into a strip of trees.
It was raining and windy outside; typical weather for the UK.
“So, tomorrow you start school.”
“Yeah.”
“What time will you be home?” Dad inquired, picking up another biscuit.
“I don’t know, probably after three o'clock?” I guessed.
“Your Mum and I will probably be home after nine.”
“Oh.”
No surprise there; I was used to them leaving early in the morning and not returning until late at night.
“Are you excited for school tomorrow?”
“Sure.”
Nodding absentmindedly, I tried not to think about tomorrow.
“I think I’m going to head to bed now.” I muttered, getting up before anyone could say anything else to me.
Running upstairs, I locked myself into the room at the beginning of the hall. I had spent the past three days unpacking all my things.
A plus side of this new house was the fact that I had my own bathroom through a connecting door near my closet.
Throwing myself on my bed, I made sure my alarm was set before burying under the covers and trying to sleep.
I didn’t bother changing out of today’s clothes.



“Joshua Franceschi, is it?”
The administrator was flipping through a stack of papers on his desk, a smile crinkling his eyes.
“It’s Josh, actually.” I corrected, shuffling awkwardly.
“Alright, Josh...it appears you have Algebra II, Chemistry, World Literature, break, Politics, and Music Appreciation.” he informed me, handing me a sheet of paper with my time-table printed on it.
“I’ve already taken World Literature.” I coughed, staring at the ground.
“Oh, okay. All of our classes are filled up, with the exception of Creative Writing.”
“I’ll take that!”
He nodded, marking something down on a notepad before changing the room number on my schedule.
“There you go, have a good first day Josh.”
Leaving the room, I ambled my way down the hallway in search of my first period class.
No one bothered to help me, no one even looked twice at me.
I found the locker I was assigned before my classroom, so I chose the opportunity to discard my jacket.
“At least I can pretend I belong here.” I whispered to myself, clicking the lock shut.
My first two classes weren’t anything interesting.’
Sheffield was a couple lessons behind my class in London, so the work was easy. In truth, I still hadn’t taken World Literature.
I just preferred writing song lyrics over reading timeless classics.
Heading towards the Creative Writing class, I paused in the doorway and looked around.
It was a small class with six tables gathered in a semicircle around the front board. Each table had two students seated.
“You must be our new student.” an aging man with a nice smile greeted me. “I’m Mr. Brooks, and you are?”
“Josh.”
“Josh! Well, now we finally have an even number in our class. You can sit next to Oliver.” he offered, pointing to a kid sitting by himself.
I agreed, sitting down next to him.
“Hello...” I whispered timidly, glancing at him.
He looked up for a second before ducking his head back down just as quickly. It was still enough time to catch his face.
He had a pale face with sunken in cheeks and the darkest eyes possible.
His dark was had an asymmetrical cut and went over his forehead and brushed the back of his neck.
It wasn’t only that, but he was drop dead gorgeous.
He pulled off the black denim jacket he was wearing incredibly well too.
“Hi.”
His accent was noticeable, adding an extra syllable between the two letters.
“So, you’re Oliver?” I attempted at conversation.
He was the first person I tried to speak with today.
“It’s, uh, Oli actually.”
He ducked his head back down, hiding underneath the strands of his wavy hair before glancing shyly at me.
God, he was cute.
He barely spoke another word to me the rest of the class period, but I would be damned if I didn’t get him too,
I was so focused on him, I almost missed when Mr. Brooks assigned the homework assignment.