The (Im)Perfect Escape

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

June 12nd 3:05 P.M.

My stepmother stands next to my four giant suitcases, looking just the same as the foggy image in my head portrayed her. Her black-rimmed, rectangular glasses sit comfortably on the bridge of her nose, and her raven black hair is pulled back in a tight bun, not a strand of hair out of place. Her crimson red lips seem to be set in a stern line, and her pale skin is in desperate need of a suntan. We’re polar opposites.

She gives me a small smile, and appears to be unsure of what to do—whether to hug me or shake hands or maybe do a tap dance; I’m not sure. She finally settles on giving my arm a quick squeeze. “How was your train ride down here?”

I sneak a quick glance over at Train Guy who just grabbed his luggage off the train, and is making his way into the station. His hoodie is back to surrounding his head like a halo, and just as I’m about to look away, he turns his head around and catches me staring at him. He flashes me a quick smirk and finally heads into the station.

I turn my gaze back to my stepmother and shrug. The train whistle takes any words that I was about to say. My stepmother and I turn to look at the train. With all the commotion from it and the noise from people’s chatter, this isn’t the ideal place to have a sharing and caring session.

Finally, she sets her muddy brown gaze back on me. “Why don’t we head to my place?”

“Sure.” I wave a hand in front of my face to try and cool down. Good thing I only wore shorts and tank top on the ride here and not a unicorn sweater that Grandma stuffed at me. It was fine in Chicago, but it’s nothing compared to the heat here. Hopefully, being next to a beach will cool down the temperature a little more. I can already smell the sea from here, so it has to be close even though Grandpa told me it was a bit of drive from the train station to the town. All I know is that I’m definitely going to get a tan. Although, Grandma has that cancer thing implanted in my head now.

“Should we head to the car now? I asked one of the workers here to come help me with your bags. You did pack quite a bit.” She gestures to my luggage.

“Sure.” Is sure all I can say? She probably thinks that her stepdaughter has turned into a walking and talking imbecile. Great first impression there, Lila.

And the four suitcases? A girl has to dress to impress…the, um, five teens that are actually here. My grandfather said there were a lot of teenagers here, but Google says otherwise. To be truthful, I’m putting more trust in an Internet search engine than dear old Gramps.

After making our way through the train station and getting all of my giant suitcases in her red sedan, I slink in the front seat and put on my seatbelt. My stepmother slides in and does the same. After starting up the car, she turns on the radio. Country music. Ew.

I glare at the radio, hoping it’ll magically change. When that doesn’t work, I turn my gaze out the window and sigh. The scenery is so much different than from the hustle and bustle of Chicago. Even the suburban part of town that I’m in, it’s still pretty clustered. It just gives off this free feeling here. Everything’s so nicely spaced and so pastel. Bright colors apparently are sparse around here. Nifty.

After a while, we pull off the highway and into what I’m guessing is the town that I’m going to spend my summer in. Too enamored by the gorgeous beach front, I completely missed the welcome sign that had the population scribbled on it. Although, I’m pretty sure there was only three numbers there. It’s not even in the thousands? Kill me now.

Passing by what appears to be the downtown, I’m amazed by the lack of shops and places. The stores themselves are quaint with older style architecture. It’s like I walked into a postcard from some magical town. Truthfully, this place is so foreign it’s practically Narnia to me. Although, even Narnia would have more people than this town and I would much rather be there.