1. Moving In

As I came out of the airport, the heat of the sun touched my face. I thought all weathers were bad in the United States, I really should've done more research on Florida before coming here. My mom's new company promised to get her accommodation for her and her family accompanied by a ride, that is a new car, but unfortunately it's still a company car. Someone from her company would come to drop off the car at their new home. Its currently Sunday and car would be dropped on Monday morning. School isn't going to be resuming till a months time so I have a few weeks to prepare before I start going to school. If high school is anything like what I see in movies, I have a lot of mental health to catch up on. Before we came my mom insisted I get a job to raise some money for myself, because she wouldn't be getting paid till after a months time. She does have some cash with her it was not enough to be the four of us for a month. Naira has a very low value compared to dollars. Whereas $1 is N350. I hate my life, currently, it was not what I expected at the start of the year. August was fast approaching and I don't know anyone here. There was a sign held up by a man as we came out from the airport, he had my moms name on the piece of cardboard paper. I guess he's from her company.

"You must be Ibukun, my name is Ryan" the man was light skinned with brown hair brushed, he had a slight stubble on his face and his brown eyes look tired. It's so obvious he's American, I mean apart from the horrible pronunciation of my moms name.

"Yes, these are my kids. That's the oldest girl Chinonye, Maria and my last born Lotanna" my mom introduced us. "And my name is Ibukun, as in E-bu-kun the I there isn't pronunced as I. Do you understand?" My mom corrected him on her name.

"My apologies Mrs Ibukun. How's that?" He asked her as he smiled. My gosh this man had dimples. I'm a big sucker for dimples. But as per this is my moms work colleague I know nothing would ever happen. My mom nodded her head and politely returned his smile.

"I was sent here to pick up you and your family, but my did you guys bring the whole of Nigeria" he chuckled " Seeing this load we'll have call a cab, they can't fit in my car. I'll try and carry some of your things in my car though, hope that's okay with you."

"Me I can't leave my load in another car" my mom said as she lifted her handbag closer to her chest. I sometimes forget my mom is a typical Yoruba woman. Though there's a lot of tribalism in Nigeria, my mom and dad somehow got married, despite some negative opinions of certain relatives. My mom used to tell me that both their parents were very open and understanding people. She said it was weird for her at first having names of both places so she kept her maiden name. To me my mom did that Kim Kardasian West did, hers being, Ibukun Otedola Eze. Meanwhile, having parents from different tribes I leant to speak both. But if I'm being honest I speak Yoruba better than Igbo. But I had to learn Igbo cause my dad was always disturbing me about it.

"I don't understand" the man replied

"I can't travel in one car and put my bags in another. What if the man steals it? I can't take that risk oh."

"I assure you the driver won't do that, he would simply-"

"So you know the driver and you know that he wouldn't take anything" This continued for a while, in a few minutes the man looked torn, he didn't have an argument to put up against my mother. And he had a feeling anything he says won't matter, my mother can be excessively stubborn.

"I'll take Lotanna and Maria and go follow Mr Ryan. Then you can sit with the taxi driver. Shebi you won't mind?" I interrupted and spared the man and more painful arguments with my mom.

We ended up calling the cab and after packing our things into both cars we hit the road. A few minutes on the road and Ryan started a conversation with me. Asking about our flight and if we're hungry. My siblings we mostly quiet and replied in one word answers adding a sir to be respectful. Being polite was how we were raised so if a stranger offers you food, reject it, especially if your parents know them.

"You know you can call me Ryan. You'll make me feel old if you keep calling me sir" he turned to me slightly and smiled cheekily. I could tell he was flirting with me, that smile didn't look innocent.

"How old are you?" This was the part he'll figure out I'm under age and end the conversation. But if I'm new in this country I needed to have a friend that wasn't going to treat me like a child.

"I'm trying to respectful calling you by your name sounds wrong. And I'm 18 what about you?"

"There are other ways to be respectful you know. You're younger than I thought, I'm 24. So you can call me Ryan"

"Is a lie Chinonye is 17. I'll tell mummy you're lying" came a loud voice from the back sit. I cursed internally. Just kill me, I can't sink into the car seat. Embarrassing me is something my brother does often, but can't he's not getting away with this.

"Lotanna, shut up. don't interrupt when I'm talking. I'm basically 18 already" smooth cover up. I hope.

"So, why'd you lie"

"It's not a lie it's gonna be true in a few weeks" more like a few months. But he doesn't need to know that.

"Don't be ashamed of your age, I for one want to be 17 again. I hate having responsibilities" I laughed.

"No one wants to grow that much, but enough to not be called a child"

" I get you" he smiled again. Please ask for my number. Or any social media account. Come on, in waiting.

"We're almost there" he said as he turned the car right. Wow this place is beautiful. All I can see are backgrounds for Instagram worthy posts. But now I have to think of the person to take them, Maria can't take a picture to save her life. I turned to look at her, she had earpiece on looking out of the window. I'm actually sad for her. She's not going to make friends easily but she's going to be in her first year.

We pulled up to a house. It was bigger than I thought. Our home in Lagos didn't have an upstairs but this house I'm looking at does. As he parked in the drive way, the taxi my mom was in followed and stopped on the street as there was space for only one car. Ryan turned off the engine and locked at me again. "You like it, that's good, cause you'll be living here for a long time" I couldn't return his smile as I watch him bring out a small box from a compartment in his car. He got out and gave the box to my mom. I stayed in the car with Maria after Lotanna came down. "You ok?" I asked my younger sister, she has always kept to herself and made me worry, but I'm glad she come to me for advice on certain things. She didn't hear me, so I tapped her leg.

"Yeah" removing the earpiece from her ears.

"What's up? Are you okay?"

"Yup. No network for a while now so I'm just listening to songs"

"Seriously? Stupid Nigerian networks I haven't even switched my phone on yet" I grumbled

"Will you come down from that car" I heard my mom shout "You want your elders to carry load for you. Stupid girls" we rushed out of the car. No words need to be said or we'll get shouted on again. I'm sure she said it in English so she wouldn't be rude to Ryan. Yet another embarrassing moment. Apparently the tiny box Ryan gave my mom was the house key.

"I was just explaining to your mom the house has five rooms a bath and toilet in all the rooms except one. It's a small room on the down floor. I'm a bit confused though Mrs Ibukun, I thought you said you had four children?"

"I have four children, the oldest boy, he's in school now jare, couldn't come with us. But he'll come during his breaks with his father"

" Alright then, I'm assuming you want to carry everything inside before I give you a tour"

"Ah, of course na, I no want talk say someone thief our things outside" I could tell Ryan was confused

"It's pidgin English" I filled him in.

"Oh wow, it's my first time hearing it with a thick Nigerian accent."

By the time all our things were in the house, the taxi driver had been paid and long gone. Ryan took us round the house, the kitchen and the main bathroom, the living room that was already set up with a television and couches. Basically the house was set for us to live in. My mom had sent her preferences and they used it to set up for her. There was a washing machine and a dishwasher. I'm sure the dishwasher won't ever be used since my mother has made me a certified plate washer. Which I would soon gladly pass on to my younger sister. Her senior cannot be washing plates for her, when I'm not mad. My mom took the master bedroom and I took the one furthest from her. I know I would soon be up to no good. At least let me prepare early. As I dropped my things in my room I went downstairs to check the kitchen cupboards, they were all stacked with plates and cups. Wow I thought, I looked at the fridge and I couldn't help but wonder were they snacks inside. I rushed to open it but was disappointed to find an empty fridge. I found Ryan coming out of a room in the kitchen. What's a room doing in the kitchen?

"Is that a room in the kitchen?"

He laughed then laughed some more before opening the door wider for me to peek in.

"It's a store room, and it's been stacked with food and snacks that will last you a month. Your mom is hardly ever gonna be home. But a job like this comes once in a lifetime and you should be happy for her" in my head I was celebrating. Why would I be sad that my mother wasn't going to be home. It just meant a very short word commonly known as FREEDOM. I love my mom, but she sends me on stupid errands she can do herself and I basically can't lie don't a whole hour with hearing her or my father shout my name like their life depended on it. It could be for lousy errands such as getting them the remote to the tv, note that said remote is probably on another couch in the living they're already seated in and myself or my poor siblings will be called from the room to bring it for them. That one can even be a small introduction to what I go through.

"I'm sure it won't be that bad" I tried to sound as sad as possible.

"Well, if you get bored you can always surf the internet. Or watch tv, whatever you kids do for fun nowadays" I was offended he referred to me as a child but there was another pressing matter.

"I don't have network"

"Excuse me?" He seemed confused so I thought of how an American would put it.

"My phone doesn't have any service" I pulled my phone out of my jeans pocket and showed it to him. He looked at my phone closely.

"What a crappy phone. I can't believe they still make, whats this, an iPhone 5" I was yet again insulted by this man. Did they not teach them manners growing up in this country.

"6 actually. And it's what my mom could afford for me last year so I'd appreciate you not making fun of it" to hell with being respectful if this man shades my phone imma do the same to him. "What do you use an X? Is that why you're feeling yourself. It's extremely rude to call my phone crappy. If you don't like it do the honors and buy me a better one" I can't believe I snapped at him. But I had already been done so I kept glaring. He put both hands up defensively like he was mocking me.

"I used the X last year, I currently use 11 pro max" He reached to bring it out of his pocket. I scoffed, what a proud prick. I have actually only seen those in pictures "And I'm sorry for calling your phone crappy" he put his phone back in his back pocket. All I could think of was how someone would pull it out of his back pocket and more than half a million naira would be gone. I realized he was talking to me. "Sorry what did you say" I asked sheepishly as I wasn't paying attention.

"I said I was going to make it up to you. You put up the option of getting you a better phone" as much as I wanted to get a better phone my mother will be quick to give it back to him or use the phone itself to hit me. So as much as I pained my I smiled and kindly rejected his offer. Oh how I'm going to tell Amaka I just rejected an offer to probably get a better phone. But I had a better idea.

"I know how you can make it up to me" I smiled innocently. Might as well make my life here easy.