Chapter 7 Summer

Chapter 7
James Island

    The next morning, I wake up at the same time as Holly around five. I’m not hungover and neither is she, but I’m groggy and stay that way as I walk home with my tote bag of clothes and sneak in before my mother wakes up. I take a quick shower since I smell like puke, which probably means I threw up at some point last night, then sink into bed and knock out once more.
    I get up again around ten and begin the adventure of cleaning my room. Not having a clue where to start, I just begin with the clothes, throwing them onto one huge pile on my bed. The pile is so high that it nearly blocked the air flowing through the one window I have. That three foot tall pile added to all the clothes jam-packed into my walk-in closet probably means that I should get rid of some clothes.
    My room is pretty disgusting now that I look at it. There are empty plastic bags laying around along with empty shoe boxes, Kleenex boxes, composition books, unfinished diaries, unworn shoes, unworn clothes, bags, purses, and old school papers.
    By the time I’m done cleaning, I have two garbage bags filled with rubbish and three loads of laundry to do. When the laundry is done, I pull a suitcase from my closet and start packing.
    I pack two bathing suits, because God forbid I get yelled at by Mom again because the last time I didn’t listen, the strap on my bikini had snapped in a freak accident that nobody could have predicted. Along with the bathing suits, shorts and tank tops. Also, jeans and seat shirts for the cool nights, two pairs of sunglasses and my strawberry body wash and body butter, razor, and hair products. I also pack a pair of slippers and a couple pairs of sneakers. In a duffle bag, I threw my electronics chargers, books and an extra blanket.
    The trips I went on in the summers, I’d had to pack light because it was with a tour group of teenagers and we each had to carry our own things. Now I could splurge.
    I put on my favorite comfy pants. They’re grey and Capri sweat pants with elastic cuffs at the bottom. I put on my favorite grey jacket and slip my red Crocs on before throwing my hair up into a ponytail. The ferry ride is almost two hours long, might as well be comfortable.
    Downstairs, everybody on my dad’s side of the family that I know is there. His sisters, Aunties Joanie, Terrie, Omi and Uncle Allen, Aunty Joanie‘s husband; cousins Kerry and Ryan and Ryan’s girlfriend and her kids Kylie and Noah and my ninety-year-old-grandfather who can‘t hear. It’s a mad house, especially with Mom running around trying to get everything in order.
    I text Holly for her and Jake to come down instead of enduring this by myself. But we end up sitting in the back of my mother’s SUV for two hours talking, bored out of our minds.
    We had to load countless numbers of canned juice, juice boxes, cans of soda, bottles of water, bags of chips and a million and one groceries. That’s the crappy thing about the beach house--not only do you have to bring the basics, you also have to bring the food.
    When everything in finally loaded, everyone separated. Aunty Omi rides Aunty Joanie and Uncle Allen in their car along with my three cousins. Aunty Terrie rides with Ryan, Daina and her kids and Mom, Dad, Jake, Holly and I take Mom’s car. My brother and his girlfriend arrive just in time to follow us. Our car is so packed that I’m forced to sit on Holly’s lap after much arguing with my mother about there nor being enough space for everyone to cram into one seat.
    The two hour long ride to the dock is pretty entertaining. For the most part, Holly and I have different tastes in music. I like classical, baroque, slow jams, S Club 7, and alternative and rock as my top two. She started me on the whole alternative rock thing when we were in seventh grade though. Since then she’s gotten into more hip hop, rap, R&B-ish sort of thing, but we still manage the two hour ride listening, dancing and singing--very loudly-- to the songs we used to love a couple years. We also do oldies and Cyndi Lauper and Grease one and two.
    My parents roll their eyes. They have nothing to listen to but our singing, seeing as only we can hear the actual songs because of the earphones.
    Usually, I’m not this crazy around my family, mostly because there’s nobody to be crazy with me, but as always when I’m with my best friend, things will get out of hand.
    We finally get to the ferry, we begin unloading the cars. Or everybody else unloads the cars. I don’t have the muscles to carry anything and after a few minutes of trying to help and getting shoved out of the way, Holly, Jake and I decide that we’re better off just dragging everything off to the side.
    Within fifteen minutes, our bags were loaded, we’d bought our tickets and we’re sitting in the ferry and the dock is growing smaller and smaller.
    Holly and I had taken Dramamine an hour before we’d gotten on the boat just like instructed. I’m exhausted, but I’d rather be tired than sick from the motion of the boat anyways.
    The first time I’d gotten motion sickness was the first time I’d gone out of the country. The flight to Japan was nine hours and in the last two hours I’d fainted--slumped over the arm of the chair and into the aisle. My friend had been talking to me the entire five minutes I’d been out, thinking that I’d reached over because I’d dropped something, before our chaperone had woken me up asking if I was alright. My first thought was that I’d fallen asleep and just fell over, embarrassingly enough. But then two minutes later, the nausea started and I took a Dramamine my mother had packed for me just in case two minutes before I had to ask the chaperone for a bag. I puked.
    That had been the most unpleasant plane ride ever and I had no desire to feel that horrible ever again, even though it’s happened on all my trips at some point.
    We’re practically the only ones on the huge ferry so Holly and I go to the dining section and choose a booth before lying down on opposite sides of the table. Holly knows out instantaneously while I toss and turn uncomfortable until Jake comes. He nudges me to move over and lays my head in his lap. More comfortable with the not quite pillow-like support, I fall asleep.
    It only feels like a few minutes when I begin to wake.
    “Holly.” A hand is on my arm, shaking me awake.
    “Mm.” I groan grouchily without opening my eyes.
    “We’re here.” Jake says. He grasps my arm and pulls me up into a sitting position.
    I sigh and look around. Outside, the sun is setting, and though I’ve been nothing but freaking excited about getting to James Island, the only thing I want right now is to get to the beach house and crawl into bed.
    The boat docks and Holly and I link arms, clumsily making our way off the ferry to the dock where they’re unloading our luggage. We’re moving our stuff from the loading dock to a bench up on the boardwalk and Jake doesn’t let me carry anything past the half way marker.
    The air outside is fairly cool. The summers here are never actually hot. Warm on some days, but most of the time it’s comfortable, meaning that the nights were freezing and when you go into the water, your teeth chatter for ten minutes before you get used to it. The air smells like a mixture of saltwater, charcoal, and barbeque. There’s some places where there’s grass growing through the sand. The houses are all one story, which is why my family will be splitting up. In front of all the houses are grills, and more than a few people are barbequing tonight with plastic chairs set up on the front lawns.
    My mother instructs me to sit on the bench and watch our things while they make trips back and forth between the dock and the cabin, which naturally means Jake and Holly will be staying with me, seeing as they’re my guests. I sit with my hands in the pockets of my jacket, eyes closed, and head leaning on Holly’s shoulder.
    Ten minutes later, we’re rolling out suitcases down the main boardwalk. Directly in front of us is the theme park with tourist shops and restaurants, only open during the summer. I know from pat experience that we probably won’t be going to the theme park. We usually like to steer clear of crowded places.
    An agonizing five minutes later, we reach the beach house we’ve rented for the summer. Not taking any time to unpack or explore, we picked the room downstairs with one queen-sized bed, threw down our suitcases and fell asleep.