I wanted an adventure. Something new and exciting, strange and distant. Or at least get away from my mother also saying "Elliot Akerman you are 23 years old. It's about time you settle down with a nice man and gave me grand-babies." Of course she doesn't nag my 26 year old, successfully married sister who has yet to conceive a spawn of her own prefect reality. Nope, just me. She'll go off on how I spend too much time working, barely seeing the sun isn't good for my skin, and that blouse is making me look like a cheap hooker.

Thus, on my 24th birthday, I sent out to England, landed a job, and began my new life.I got a place in a type of community home. Well, not really. Just a two guys living together, but still. It was said to be normal out in England. To me, it was a bit odd. Though it was the only house with a spare room and was willing to let a helpless American girl live there.

There was three levels to the house, main level, basement, and top level. On the main level was the living room, kitchen, bathroom, and dinning room. All to which looked like something my mother would have thrown together, not a bunch of out-of-college guys. There was no sign that showed that men actually lived there. The dishes were clean, no odd stains on the sofa, everything dusted, even fresh flowers where layed out. It was homely in a very weird sense of the word.

The top floor was two bedrooms with private bath rooms and a small opening that sat a small table with roses in it. One room was mine, the other belonged to my roommate Toby. He was a rather tall fellow with a look that seemed like he saw everything bad that ever happened to you. I was scared when I rang the bell to see him standing on the other side of the door. My fear was just a judgment of a book cover. Toby was a really nice guy and wouldn't let me carry any boxes up stairs as I was moving in.

My room was much like that of a hotels. The walls were plain with classic looking paintings hung around it. All the furniture was there when I moved in. There was a full sized bed, to which I bought my own sheets. There was a dresser and mirror. The TV had my game console hooked up, as well as cable. A bookshelf with a couple of books I brought with me, family pictures, and nik-naks. Glowing in the corner under the window was my laptop. Out side the window was a nice view of the tree outside. Had I been someone else I would have used the tree to sneak out at night.

It wasn't much of my own, but it felt like home. I brought a few of my own things but nothing too much. My teddy bear was laying on my bed, that I like to make every morning. No clothes on the floor either. On the floor of my closet was a hamper and my suitcases which layed empty.

In the Basement was where my other roommate, Oliver, lived. Toby told me he was a sort of man that worked from home and have his workshop down stairs. I wasn't sure how he made so much money, but he seemed to be good at doing it. The inter house was owned Oliver, ever piece of furniture was paid for. The house was paid off in a few years after Oliver had bought it, all the rent Toby and I paid (which was very little) went to split the bills. Very few times I have seen Oliver since I have lived here. He always wore tight dark shirts, baggy jeans that had rips and paint spots, and his hair was slicked back like someone who just got out of the shower.

I always worried about Oliver. He never seemed the type to make many friends. In fact I have a good feeling that Toby was the only guy he knew. He must at least know a few girls. Oliver had that tall dark and handsome wrapped in a bit of mystery, every girl would have eaten that up. I think mostly because he goes out every now and again, leaving a note and something in the oven for nights when Toby worked later, that he had a girlfriend or two.

I must have lived with them about a week or two before Oliver invited me out to the pub with him.

It was a normal weekend night to which we sat on at the table with dinner.

Dinner, as it turns out, was pizza and beer. Not being much of a drinker I had some anyway. I will admit it wasn't as bad as I came to believe. However, the effect it had on Oliver was questionable. Half way through his third slice of pizza and second drink, he became easier to talk to. It was weird.

"You are rather smart you know that" He said.

"Yes," I answered annoyed. "You have been telling me that for five minutes now. You really are a lightweight."

Oliver laughed, "And you're a slow eater."

I was almost done with my second piece when he reached for his fourth, cracking another beer for him and one for me.

"Maybe you should slow down," I said. "Don't want to be sick, do you?"

Again he laughed. "Relax, I'll be fine. You are cute when you worry."

I did blush at that. It's weird when a quiet guy like Oliver calls you cute. Before I could reply, his cell phone went off.

"That was my buddy," He told me as he hung up. "Says there is a pub down the road that has half price pints tonight. You in?"

No, I wasn't in. But, I'd rather go some where I don't want to, then have Oliver stumble around drunk late at night.

"Sure thing" I flashed my best fake smile that I could.

Regardless of what you may have heard, a pub is not the best place to be when you are new in town. No one shows you any respect, and the bartenders don't really want to serve first off. Being a girl as well as an American was even worse than I thought it would be.

I was seated at a table Oliver was sitting at with a few of his friends.

"Bring me beers wench," One of them yelled.

"How about 'go fuck yourself,'" I replied. "I'm not your bitch. Go get them yourself if you are so thirsty."

Oliver was looking off into space when I sat down. It looked like he was going to sleep at some point.

"You want to go back?" I asked placing a hand on his shoulder. "You aren't looking so well."

"He looks fine, just give the man a pint." His friend said, coming back with a handful of beers, sliding one to Oliver to which he happily drank. "One for you too, Wench,"

"Don't call her that," Oliver slurred. "Her name is Elliot and its a beautiful name, for she is a beautiful girl."

All of his friends laughed.

"Gosh mate looks like you got whipped," One stated.

Oliver just giggled and went back to his drink.

My beer was warm. Wasn't as good as the one back home. No one seemed to mind it though. Guess they were looking to get drunk rather than enjoy the drinks.

We were surrounded by teenagers enjoying the fact no one carded them. Some kids like they could pass as 18, others looked like they should be drinking from a sippy-cup still. Guys tried to look the coolest they can, as girls showed as much skin as they legally could and padded their bras.

Olivier's friends chatted away, ignoring me and the drunken mess that Oliver was becoming.

"Shit Oliver, we gotta get you to bed," I started pulling him out of the table.

He didn't argue. He held my hand and stumbled a few times till we made it to the door. Before we got a few feet from the door, one of his friends came running after us.

"Let me help you," He said holding Oliver up by his arm. "I can't let you walk home alone with him like this."

"Thank you," I said. "You seem nicer than the others back there."

He shrugged and began walking Oliver forward. "Don't tell them that. Apparently, it's cool to be an asshole. Come on, we can take my car."

We walked over to a compact rust red beast of a car. His friend opened the back door, and sat Oliver down. "Do you want to sit in back with him?"

"Probably should," I slid in next to the drunk mess that was almost sleeping.

His friend ran around to the front and took off for the few minute drive to the house.

"I'm Sean, by the way," He told me. "Those other blokes back there were Jason and Matt. Not the best people you'll meet, but at least no one will want to mess with you while they're around."

"They don't seem like interesting guys," I said.

"Not really," Sean laughed. "Sadly, that was them being nice."

Oliver burped next to me and placed his head in my lap.

"He never drinks like this," Sean stated. "Honestly, I've never even seen him finish a beer. Guess you make him nervous."

We got to a stop sign. A couple of kids hung around it, smoking, waving to Sean and calling out various things.

"More friends of yours?" I nodded to the kids.

"Wouldn't call them friends," He said. "People are just nice to me cause I throw really good parties."

"Kiss asses, eh?"

"Pretty much,"

Sean pulled into the drive way and parked. By my looks, it seemed Toby was asleep. Meaning we needed to get Oliver downstairs and Sean out of the house without waking him.

It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. Oliver was pretty light and Sean had some hidden muscle under his charming smile. We were able to get Oliver into to the house and to bed with ease. I emptied his pockets and took off his shoes. Sean left a bucket and glass of water for him.

"Think he'll be okay?" I asked walking Sean back out to his car.

"He will be fine," He laughed. "You are cute when you worry. Did anyone ever tell you that?"

"So I've heard," I blushed.

Sean just smiled and got in his car. "See you tomorrow Elliot."

"Night Sean," I waved as he pulled out into the street. Once he was out of sight I went up stairs and headed for bed.