*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2307983-Southern-Belle
Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
by Jex
Rated: E · Chapter · Romance/Love · #2307983
Multiple romances taking place in a town that doesn’t exist on any maps.
Chapter One, Part One

Easton Batiste isn’t really sure how his father has found his way into this small British town—an emphasis on the adjective ‘small’, because all residents of this village have the same postcode—but what Easton definitely knows is that moving from St Catharines, Canada, to some place named Naporia, must be one of the worst things that have ever happened to him.

Naporia is a fishing town in the south of England, and it is so unknown that google maps can only bring you close to it, but not in it. The town is not known for anything, because it has no businesses or particular beauty. This place honestly feels as if it never really existed, so how did his father find it?

The town looks down at the beach as white houses make their way up a couple of green hills, and the roads are so broken down and small that it is impossible for him and his dad to make their way up the hill with the car. Since they have entered the town, the two have only seen three parking spots, namely the ones in front of them. These are found in front of three shops, and all three spots are taken by mini vans full of items.

Jackson Batiste, Easton’s father, sighs loudly and stops the car in the middle of the road. “What are we doing?” asks Easton.

“Saskia said she’d meet us at John’s corner shop,” Jackson indicates said shop. “I’ll go check if she’s there!” Jack says, smiling widely at Easton. However, his son’s piercing glare hurries him out of the car.

“This is shit.” Easton states, staring forward. After weighing the options in his head, the kid takes out his phone to see if his internet has decided to work. Still a big no-no. “This is soooo shit,”

After a few minutes, the kid sees his father jog back to the car as he smiles. Jackson seems to turn around to say something to someone unseen, then entering the car. Easton stares at him. “Are you still sulking?” asks dad. Easton looks away. “You can’t sulk forever, Toni.”

“Watch me,” he answers and crosses his arms, enunciating his pout. Jackson chuckles as he moves the car away and slowly approaches John’s shop, turning at the corner. “Are we parking here?”

“Yeah, apparently they haven’t finished making our parking spot yet.”

“They are making one?”

Jackson parks the car and wonders. “Umm, yeah, the residents here don’t have cars. The few that do keep them in the big town nearby because they never use it in here and they don’t want to pay for a parking spot,”

“Why don’t we do the same?”

“Well, my job’s up the hill, yeah? And it’s like, CBA to walk up a hill for an hour every morning, bruv.”

Easton frowns repelled. “Please don’t ever speak like that again,”

“STFU brat,” Jackson replies smirking. Easton sighs amused.

“Where’s our house?” the kid decides to ask once they both get out of the car. Jackson makes a long “ummm…” noise, looking everywhere but at his son, and goes on to open the trunk. “Dad…?”

“About that…”

“We don’t have a house?!” shouts Easton. Jackson frowns confused.

“What? No. I mean, we do, dummy. It’s just, the house is on the side of the hill that literally has no car access… so, we have to carry all our stuff up there.” Easton blinks numerous times, staring at his father, who is whistling innocently. “Lucky for us, the guys at the shops will help
us out, okay?” Jackson smiles nervously. “Come on bear, don’t look at me like that!!”

“Sometimes I really wish I was a bear.” Easton states blankly, grabbing a box and walking away. Jackson’s nervous smile widens.

“What—What do you mean?” Jackson asks. “Toni? What do you mean? What would you do?!” his voice gets a little louder as Easton gets
further away. “Ah, fuck.”

“Fock’s right,” Jackson hears from John, head of John’s corner shop. “Kiddo looks gutted,”

“I’m not sure what that means,” Jackson answers truthfully. John’s hacking laugh is so loud that the dad jumps a little. “You crack me up,
man. Let’s crack this up too, shall we?”

Jack is still unsure of what ‘gutted’ means, but he grins and thanks John for the help. The two pick up some boxes and start walking. “Do you
think I should say something? He literally begged me not to move us here,”

“Gotta be honest, you’re flogging a dead horse and I definitely don’t got no advice,”

Jack widens his eyes startled, “there’s a dead horse?”

Another loud laugh leaves John’s mouth, “what I mean is that there’s horses for courses, yanno? That’s you two with the village, yanno?”

“We eat dead horses?!” Jackson stops walking.

John starts laughing so much that he has to leave the boxes on the ground to calm down. “Would you eat them alive?!”

“I think you’re doing this on purpose now,” Jackson says amused.

“We don’t eat horses here,” John laughs again, nodding, “what I meant is that he’s a teen, Jack. Teens are mysterious creatures that I never
intend to try to understand. I suppose you’ve gotta since you’re his dad. What I’d do is buy him stuff he likes. Since moving’s such a bad
thing for him, try to balance the shitty part with good things,”

“Did you really say all of that with the horse-dialect?” Jackson asks as they resume their walk. John shrugs entertained.

*

*

*

Speaking of horses, Easton finishes his walk up the hill of his house. As he stops to rest, he places the box down and sits on someone’s
stairs, waiting for his dad. Now, what he sees during his rest is something that makes him feel as if he had just entered the scenario of a fantasy or historical novel. From behind some houses, a South-Asian girl wearing equestrian clothes is slowly riding a white horse towards his direction. Easton stares at the horse astonished as it stops in front of him. The rider looks down at him and asks with a blank expression, “if you could go anywhere in the world right now, would you go to a where or to a who?”

Easton raises an eyebrow confused. “What?”

The rider tilts her head, “you heard me.”

The boy frowns but seems to think about it, “if you asked me this yesterday, I would have said some place. But today it’s definitely to someone,”

A little nod makes her look away for a moment she uses to think about that. Before Easton could ask why that question was posed, she
says, “you’re the new guy, aren’t you? The American?”

He sighs really loudly, “I’m not American. I’m Canadian,”

“Ah, sorry. Well, everyone in college knows you as the American already, so I suppose you’re gonna have to break lots of stereotypes.”

The horse makes some horse noises, which I wouldn’t know how to describe. “That’s great,” Easton ironically says, standing up and slowly
approaching the horse to caress it. “What’s your name?”

“Mine or the horse’s?”

Easton giggles, “both.”

“I’m Ishanaa. This girly is my beautiful Lavely.”

Easton caresses Lavely’s head, smiling, “you’re a lovely girl, aren’t you?”

“Me or the horse?” Ishanaa sneers.

“Definitely the horse,” he laughs. “I’m Easton by the way, the not-American Canadian. Just a question, how does everyone already know
about my existence? I don’t even know where I’ll go to school,”

“Look around you. We have the same postcode. We’re family… and like in every family, there’s newsmongers. Also, there’s only one sixth
form in Naporia.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

Ishanaa laughs. He smiles at her sweetly. “You’re an interesting guy, Easton. I have to go now, but I suppose I’ll see you at school,”

“Ishanaa?” he calls her before she turns to leave. “What would you choose?”

The girl looks at him in the eye, “every piece of myself has lived, lives, and will live here,” is what she says. “It doesn’t matter what I choose. I
will always go home,”

Easton looks down as he caresses Lavely one last time. “You’re really lucky, then,” he says, taking a step back that allows Ishanaa to leave
slowly.

“You can be at home too, if you choose so,” he hears before she rides away.
© Copyright 2023 Jex (noncanonjex at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2307983-Southern-Belle