Summer Getaway

Chapter 2: French Vanilla Milkshake

I wake to the sound of someone banging around in the kitchen. "Well, I guess that's my wakeup call," I mumble.

I slip out of the covers into the frgid air. You'd think Louisiana in Summer would be hot, but my house is always freezing. After grabbing my toothbrush and toothpaste out of my suitcase, I go to the bathroom to get ready.

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Twenty minutes later my hair is in a ponytail, I'm dressed, and my teeth are brushed. I slump down the stairs to see the source of my three-in-the-morning-wake-up-call, Mom.

"Hey, glad you're up" she says with a smile. "Yeah, I was a little worried to go in there and wake the bear from hibernation," Dad says jokingly coming into the kitchen.

"Hilarious," I wisper to myself while fixing my coffee just how I like it: French Vanilla creamer with a splash of actual coffee.

"Grab your stuff and get in the suburban; Becca's already in there sleeping" Dad warns. I gulp the rest of my drink and hurry up the stairs with my throat burning.

I snatch my two suitcases and haul them downstairs and into the car. Then, a little more awake now thanks to the caffeine, make my way back up the stairs.

I get my record player, my best vinyls, my sheet music, and my guitar, Tori (named after one of the best vocalists of our time, Tori Kelly). Yes, I named my guitar. Why? Why the hell not is a better question.

After making another trip down the stairs, I plop into the back row of the suburban with my blanket, pillow, phone, and headphones. I put on my top twenty - five, and close my eyes. I don't even notice backing out of the driveway, probably because of the Fall Out Boy blaring in my ears.

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Two card games, three bathoom stops, and twelve hours of driving later, the Olsen family is finally.... half way there. Yay.

After Dad checks into the hotel, we get on the elevator and head for our room. 394... 394... 39- ah! Found it! Dad puts the key in the door, and we all shuffle in behind him.

It's a nice room. Two queen size beds, a window overlooking the parking lot, a fridge, a coffee maker, a bathroom, a TV, and a weird painting of a tree that looks like it was painted by a dinosaur: sloppy and old.

I set down the one suitcase I brought inside the hotel with me and lay on the bed farthest from the window. I had to leave two of my babies in the car, Tori and my record player. I got to bring in one of my babies though, gotta love my Chuck Taylors. Only 15 and a mother of three, shocking I know.

"Just like old times, huh?" Becca says sitting next to me. "I swear if you kick me one time in your sleep, I will kill you," she says, the smile gone from her face.

"So if I kick you while I'm awake, I get to live?" I reply with my eyes closed.

"Really, Rachel, you should be a comedian."

"Seriously though, I grew out of that years ago," I tell her truthfull. "I'll believe it when I see it," I just barely hear her mutter.

I pick up the remote to the television and start scrolling through the channels. Sesame Street or The Middle? The Middle it is.

"Well, I'm going to the workout room," Becca says standing. "See ya" I yell back.

"Don't forget a key," Dad tries to tell her before she shuts the door, but it's too late. "I don't think she has a key," I tell my dad with a chuckle.

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The next morning is very similar to the last, except there is a 19-year-old girl laying on top of me this beautiful day. "Becca, your breath smells like Marco's shit, please get off," I tell her as kindly as possible.

"Mumnmunm," she mumbles as drool dribbles down her chin. Yuck. I roll out of bed and crawl to the shower.

After I'm clean, I throw my hair in an absolutely gorgeous bun on the top of my head, brush my teeth, and change into a pair of jean shorts and a tee-shirt that says "GO EAGLES!" (eagles are my school's mascot).

I walk out of the bathroom and realize it's just Marco and I left in the room. I bend down to his level and ask in my best doggie voice, "Did they leave for breakfast without me?"

After thirty seconds with no response, I stand, grab a key, and walk out the door.

On the bottom floor I see my family eating breakfast without me. "I made you a waffle," Becca tells me as I sit down. "Is it safe to eat?" I ask, poking it with my fork.

"I don't think you can mess up a pre-made waffle," she says with a serious face. "Leave it to you to figure out a way," I reply while popping a piece in my mouth.

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After breakfast the whole family piles into the suburban. I decide to take a nap in the back seat... for ten hours. Oops?

Just a few minutes until we get to our new home for the next three months! "Hey, Becca," I wisper, tapping her on the forehead. "The blue bedroom on the second floor is mine, okay?"

"Ummmhumm" she says with her eyes still closed as she rolls over. I'll take that as a yes, I think as I sit back in my seat.

"We're here!" Dad says from the front seat.

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Next chapter! Aren't you guys proud of me? Two updates in two days!

Okay, yes I know this chapter is short too, but I really wanted to stop at this tiny cliff hanger. Evil, I know.

Did anyone get my awsome Harry Potter reference!? I'm very proud of myself.

Expect some new characters next chapter!

Don't forget to share, comment, and vote!

~R