1

Just the intro. It drags out a bit in the beggining, but bare with me!

 The trip up to Rhode Island seemed to last forever, and road trips weren’t really my forte. Being strapped to a chair for hours, playing listless ‘I Spy” with my little sister wasn’t my thing, and in fact, I hated it. My parents sat up front; my mother sleeping with her head tilted back and mouth open, and my father was turning up his baseball game, crackling over the radio.

         “I spy…” Gabriella screeched. “something… BLUE!” From the backbench seat, my brother grunted and turned over onto his side. He hadn’t talked the whole way, and none of us were expecting him to. Traveling all the way up to Rhode Island was a family impulse this time around, due to the stress factor my brother had put on my parents a week earlier. I’d been at home, flipping through the channels when we got a phone call.                              

   SHAY, MICH My brother Mitch. He was always the smartest kid I knew, and an easy show off for my friends when I was littler. He always had an answer, even to my dumb questions, and could make anybody laugh. I was never jealous, no matter how many times I was compared to him, in fact, it made me admire him even more. He was that dorky kid in middle school, I remembered, the one with the white high socks and always had a backpack that weighed around a thousand pounds. Annoying kids in the hallways would nudge his backpack hard, sending him spinning in the other direction, just to be asses and well, because they were in the fifth grade and their suppossed to be annoying. I didn't understand this when I was younger, of course, because I was three years younger and everyone was generically friendly.

 Throughout his highschool years, however, he had become more popular after his amazing summer of puberty. His acne cleared, he became taller and broader, voice deepened, and well, sort of attractive. He apparently received so many opprotunities of popularity that year, like being invited to parties, and the occastional ditsy girl standing by the front door asking him to take her on a date. Like I said, he was smart, and wildly driven, and he didnt want too many things in his way. He'd spend his days usually studying furiously or sketching here and there, under the precipitous noses of our mother and father.

He was always so funny, and even when he would grumble the slightest thing, others would cackle in laughter. Ignoring his sudden popularity didnt make it disapear, but his modesty made it grow. I'd walk in the hallways, now in high school, and have people walking up to me asking if I was Mitch's sister. I would say no, Im Liz. I didn't want to be reconized as 'Mitch's sister'. I admired him and all, but I want to be my own person. I'd also see him roaming the halls, iPod in his earns, looking down at his feet, backpack heavy as hell.

 Not only was Mitch extensivley modest, but always had my back as well. Whenever I had a fight with my parents, he’d take my side almost immediately. Sure, it may have been wrong, even if I was at fault, but hey, its all about support.     

    

       “Hey,” He said, sounding weary. “Can you put mom on the phone?”

 

 

 

He was still in college, only for another week though. I was over with my junior year now, and felt a slow tightening knot form in my stomach when I thought about next year. Seniors in our school make 12th grade seem like a breeze, no gym, math, focus on your college. But I'd bet I would find it the hardest. My mother and father are still upset about the fact that I didn't know yet of what I wanted to do with my life and "I was not going to go to school as an undecided major. No way.".      

  I knew something was up, since Mitch didn’t ask me how my year was rounding up, or say anything how his was turning out to be. I found my mother upstairs, relaxing on the printed white sofa with a glass of red wine. My dad was sitting across from her in a chair, reading the local newspaper.      

 

 

        “It’s Mitch.” I said, and handed the phone down to her. My father put down his newspaper, and looked in the phone's direction. The bags under his eyes where increasingly present to me now, as the sun hit them just perfectly, bowing beneath the trees this time of day.    

  

   “Mom,” I heard him say quietly. “I need to talk to you…”

 

 

  I left. Whatever it was, it was bad, and I didn’t want to hear the uproar. Mitch would never start a conversation out like that. Going back downstairs, I heard my mother whisper, “Excuse me?” Or, maybe I should stick around, but make sure not to be seen.      

 

 

   “I’m not completely understanding what you’re trying to tell me here, Mitch.” But she did understand. Something clicked in my mind, and I knew what he was doing. Oh no.        

 

 

   “You can’t do this to us! This just isn’t acceptable!” She yelled, and started to pace around the room. The vain in her forhead pulsated, and the corners of her mouth depressed.

 

 

This conversation went on for over an hour and a half. Both my mother and father had a good share of the phone, neither one of them siding with Mitch. I had a hunch. He wanted to drop out of college. I knew that being a lawyer wasn’t for him from the get-go. Not that I have ever doubted his brilliance, but he was always working on little projects here and there, or drawing up pictures for his friends. I always thought it would be art school that he’d be after, but my parents always had their lawyer plans for him. Dropping out of law school and living at home was one thing. Dropping out of law school and transferring to an art school… was another. He came home that weekend, only to be involved into another shouting match. My parents were fuming, but me, understanding. But he didn’t want to talk at all. Not even to me.   

 

 

        “We need a vacation,” My mother said out of the blue, after sitting in the living room after the fight. I was still hiding in the banister, visible to only Mitch. So that’s why were here, now, in the rotten fruit smelling van.

 

 

        “Something blue, Lizzy, something blue!” Gabriella whined again. I was half listening, while my music from my iPod pumped through my ears.       

 

   “I dunno Gabby, the sky?”  

    

   “No, silly!” She pointed down at my metallically blue iPod.    

 

 

       “Good one, Gabby.” It was, considering her previous ones had been the green trees, grey road, and the brown dirt.     

 

     “Just an hour now.” My dad grumbled. Thank God. I can’t take any more of this.

 

 

 About 45 minutes later, my mom woke up, her hair standing up unttamed in the back, and told me to put my shoes on, we’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Aside from road trips, I hated this the most. I don’t need to be told when to put my shoes on. Geez. I’m 17. It’s just these little things that get on my last nerves. I noticed the town straightaway. We always come here, and its grown to be a home away from home. The small little shops that were scattered through town, the large water tower in the middle, and the street we 'lived' on, where neighbors were always out and about during the day, and out on their poarches later at night. We took a turn into the neighborhood, where I started to unbuckle my seat belt, and slip into my flip flops.      

     

“Were here, were here!” Gabby screamed, making the whole car jostle.      

 

 

   “Gabriella Tonya Shay,” My brother said, his first words today. “Must you?” She giggled, her short black hair shifting across her face.  

 

 

 My father pulled into the driveway, next to the familiar blue house. 12 Lakeside Road it read on the mailbox. Instantly Gabby shot up, and ran into the thinning yard.        

 

   “Be careful, honey!” Mom coaxed, and stepped out herself.

 

 

The air was fresh, with the salty smell of the ocean that stung my nose, and a distant waft of barbeque. I suddenly realized how hungry I was. We last stopped at noon, at an Arby’s, and it was eight now. We had the wrapppers and bags still stuffed into the tight corners of the car, where they will probably remain for the rest of the vacation before my mother notices them and busts us for it. I refused to eat the samplery sandwiches that my mother had put together before the trip. She mentioned a “Special Surprise in Liz’s Sandwich”, which I assumed was a food that should never be in a sandwich.        

 

   “God, I’m starving.” I said aloud, dragging my luggage into the small living room.    

 

       “First of all,” My father began. “You are not starving. And second of all, the word ‘god’ should never be used in vane.”   

  

 My father was brought p in a very religious household, and still bitter to this day that our family does not go to church with him every Sunday. It brought to mind this one Sunday a while ago, when we actually all went to church as a family. I couldn't recall it much, but we certainly did not sustain the proper civilness to sit in a church, and just for that Sunday. I was talking non stop to Mitch next to me, getting glares from the old ladies sitting to the North of me, and I even said "I don't even beleive in God," quietly, but people around me heard.      

 

   “But, it is late. And we all are hungry. I’ll call for pizza.” He walked out of the room to try to find the local phone book.         

 

 

 My mother suddenly looked cross.

 

         “I still don’t know why we are letting these tasty sandwiches go to waste.”

 

 

  She pulled them out of the cooler, and looked around at us. She was never much of a cook. She tried to make homemade pizza once, Oh God, and left it in the oven for an hour and a half. When I got home from school, I smelled it burning away, and told her that it may be time to take it out. Her response was, “ Oh, no honey. That just means its baking.” Of course, it was burnt to a crisp.

 

          “Mom,” I said honestly. “Your cooking scares us.”

 

 

         “I made sandwiches!” She said. I laughed, knowing it wouldn’t faze her, and brought my bags up to my room on the top floor. It was hot. Real hot. It was the closest to the roof; you could even consider the whole floor the attic. It had painted yellow walls, a single twin bed, dresser, and a cushy chair in the corner. I opened all the windows, including the screened skylight, and it instantly cooled down. Unpacking my things, I heard laughter of the girl next door. Her name was Debbie, and I had known her since I was seven. Happy to see her, I went to the windrow and screamed, “Hey Deb!” She was surprised to se me, of course, because we hadn’t even planned to come here this summer. Her mouth opened, and she waved both hands estatically, and ran near the house. Within a few minutes, Deb was up in my room, helping me unpack.

 

         “I didn’t even know you were coming up!” She said, and flashed her toothy, gorgeous smile. I was so jealous. She was the kind of girl that all the guys want, without even trying. Her tan was natural, she had pretty brown eyes, and big wavy blonde hair. As me, who can’t get a tan if I traveled to the sun, bland eyes, and gross dirty blonde, flat hair.

 

She reminded me of my friend at school, Camille, who had the same shifty and wavy blonde hair. She was never seen without a peice of gum, in class, after class, and right as she's finishing up her lunch, she pops another one in.  

 

          “Yeah, well… We decided that it just isn’t vacation when were not here.” There was no way I was getting into the story.

 

          “Aww, I know.”

 

 

She fixed her hot pink top, sliding it slightly to the left, exposing an extreme bikini tan line on her shoulder.

A guy yelled up to the window, which I instantly knew was for Deb. She smiled, and verifyed this.

 

        “Who’s the guy?” I asked, rolling a shirt into a drawer.

        

  “His name is Adam. I met him at a party a few nights ago. He’s real sweet.”

 

          Blech. Adam. The name made me want to hurl.

 

         “I just broke up with a guy named Adam.” I wanted to make it sound off like a conversational point, but instead I heard it like, Please Feel Sorry For Me.

 

         “Liz, you didn’t tell me that! Not even that you were dating a guy!” She widened her eyes and flahsed her smile again.

 

  Deb and I would chat on the phone often, keeping each other up with one another's lives, so there would be no news dumping when we see each other. It would mostly work efficiently, but there was always a piece or two of gossip one didn’t tell the other. Like Adam, for instance.

 

          “Yeah, well, he was a jerk anyway.” I rummaged through my suitcase mindlessly, hoping she wouldn’t say anything else. I was still stiff on the subject, and wanted to stay far away from it.

 

         “Well most of them are. But my Adam…” She peered out the winder where he was standing patiently. She didn’t say anything else.

 

          I had remembered last summer, when Deb had met a guy, and he turned out to be a total a*****e, and she said she would never date another guy, because they were all pigs. I guess she got over it. I suddenly wondered how many guys Deb has been with, blistfully unaware that they were all the same, and would dump her weeks to a couple months later.

 

        “Sorry Liz,” She said. “We were just about to go out. I hope you don’t mind.” She glanced back out the window.

 

          “Of course not. See you later.” She left, and her blonde hair bounced behind her. I looked out the winder when grey clouds started to form, and the wind was kicking up. I closed the skylight after dirt from the roof started to sift in, in response of the wind. I looked out the window again, where I saw Adam and Deb holding hands and walking down the street, her face lit up and pretty-like.

          This trip will be long, I thought to myself.

 

                                  ----*----*----

 

 

After our ordered pizza dinner from the greek resturaunt 5 miles away, the house was quiet. Some certain little sister had to bring up Mitch and college during our almost normal dinner, which brought the night to a damper. Nobody wanted to talk about it, not just yet, but Gabby didn't know that.

 

          “What did I do wrong?” She said, and widened her blue eyes at me.

 

        “Nothing, Gabby. Lets go upstairs and I’ll play dolls with you.”

 

 

 I could see Mom and Dad beginning a lecture, and Mitch was already slouching in his chair.

          Gabriella had the room next to mine, but it was way smaller and had light yellow walls like mine.  

 

        “Why are mommy and daddy so mad?” She said instantly as we stepped into the room.

  

      “Because of Mitch. He’s dropping out of college.”

 

 

 I don’t sugar code things. especially for my little sister. If she asked me a question, I’d answer it, and I’d answer it honestly. She had asked me what she did wrong earlier. And I did answer honestly. Nothing. They needed to talk about this, vacation or not. I didn’t want my little sister to grow oblivious. She’s five, better start now.

        “Because of Mitchie?” She didn’t get it, like most things. She hadn’t fully grasped the concept of college yet. Mitch dropping out of college didn’t seem like much of a big deal to her, so I explained. She listened, and blinked heavily every once in a while.

 

 

        “So that’s why they are upset with Mitch.” I finished with, only to find that she was half asleep. I tucked her in, and kissed her goodnight. There were only soft grumbles downstairs and the sound of the local news turned on low volume. There didn’t seem to be a fight tonight it seemed, so maybe they have sorted things out.

Reviews

[Jenn Gold]

Very interesting. I did have a bit of confusion with one sentence closer to the top about Mitch only had college for another week. I thought that meant he was graduating, and then I realized that it probably meant about him dropping out. So it was a little confusing. And then it says that Lizzy is a junior, but after the college reference I wasn't sure if that meant high school or not until later.

Also, I think it's interesting how she thanks God about arriving in town, but she takes His name in vain.
Otherwise, I'm interested to see what happens next.