Survivor

2| Super Sushi

After about 5 hours and 17 minutes of singing and dancing my way home, I arrived at my childhood home in Spring Valley, Nevada. Actually, it was closer to 6 hours if you count the fact that I stopped twice to pee and once to get some fries from McDonalds. I had a craving. Reflecting on my drive, I maybe should have been paying more attention to the road and less on the music, but oh well. I made it back safe and sound in one piece despite my now fried vocal cords.

I had barely hid the evidence of my fries under the passenger seat and secured my phone in my purse when Carter came out of the house, a huge grin plastered on his face. He had finished his exams already so he was home for break. I swear the boy got bigger every time I saw him, which wasn't nearly as often as I wanted to. He chose to attend the University of Wisconsin-Madison. I didn't know how he survived winters there because I heard they were terrifyingly cold. Yet, he seemed to love it, so as his ever supportive sister, I was happy for him. I got out of the car and was met with a huge hug.

"Hi Carter," I chuckled.

"Hey! So glad you're home! How was your drive?"

"Oh it wasn't bad," I squeaked out, clearing my voice and repeating it.

"You sound hoarse. Don't tell me you overdid it singing One Direction again?"

He knew me too well. "I might have," I admitted.

Carter helped me carry in my things, taking my duffel and stacking it on top of my basket before taking them both into the house. Carter was strong, so I let him take the big stuff. He was drafted for track and field at Madison for discus, shot-put, and hammer throw. Needless to say, he was a good person to have in my corner. Especially back in high school when kids would pick on me for my weight. Even though Carter was younger, he never hesitated to stand up for me, and given his size, people usually would back off.

He brought my things all the way up the stairs to my room, and I followed him with my backpack and rolling suitcase, of which I used both hands to dramatically hoist it up step by step until I reached the top. He set my things down on my bed with a huff.

"Jeez Cassie. I love you but you need to learn that there is a thing called NOT overpacking."

"Ha Ha. I'm going on a trip! Who knows what I will need. It's best to be prepared. Plus, I like to do my laundry at home when I can." My laundry in my apartment building was not in-unit. There was a rickety laundry room in the basement and for some reason, even as a 21-year-old woman, I still got the heebies being down there alone.

"Sure," he grinned and headed for the door. "I'll let you get settled."

"Wait!" I shouted a little too abruptly, "Where's Caralyn?"

"Oh she's grabbing a drink with Dan. She should be back any minute and then we will go to dinner."

Shocker that my sister was out with one of her old flames. Dan was someone who you might say peaked in high school. In fact, he was still living in Spring Valley, working at the same bowling alley, and probably jumped at the chance to take Caralyn out for a drink.

"Okay cool. Thanks Carter," I replied.

He nodded and left me to my old bedroom. My mother had left everything in here untouched from when I was in high school. My pale purple walls (my favorite color at the time) looked awfully childish when paired with my purple and teal paisley comforter and purple unicorn pillow pet named Raisin. Yes, like the dried grape.