Jackson
I roll my eyes and drag my hands down my face.
Can't I ever just relax? As a twenty-year-old guy, aren't I entitled to have some fun in my life?
"Jackson, did you hear me?" My mother appears in my bedroom doorway, pinning her long brunette hair back into a sleek ponytail. "I said, don't forget to pack your violin."
My gaze flits over to the instrument that I have stuffed beneath my bed and all hopes of having a care-free summer dissipate in a cloud of smoke and musical notes that I am certain will follow me into my dreams.
"Jackson Giovanni Moretti!" She gasps, following my sights and spying the case stashed amongst empty bottles of energy drinks and dirty laundry. "Your father and I spent gobs of money on that violin and will not tolerate you treating your possessions so carelessly!"
It aggravates me that my parents place this much pressure upon me to challenge my musical abilities to the fullest, but given Gabby's situation, I believe it's only due to their fears of me wasting my potential.
But still, it's not as though I will suddenly forget everything I have ever learned if I give it a break for a week.
However, there is no use arguing with my mother. She wins every time. With a grunt, I lug out the case from beneath the bed and toss it onto the mattress.
I guess I can kiss any chance of pleasure for this summer goodbye.
I want to assume my mother will eventually cut me some slack, allowing me to revel in a moment of quality family time, but I am certain she won't. There is no slowing down once one has been labeled as a musical prodigy.
There's only hard work and harder work. No exceptions.
The world doesn't stop turning just because one's whole life is being flipped on its axis. So, I must forge ahead, knowing full well that being the best is not what truly matters to me right now.
With a nod of satisfaction, my mother turns to leave, and I am left alone with my thoughts. It's a scary place to be. I am eager to escape the information that haunts me ever since that day when I learned in the sterile confines of a brick building that the lives of my family had just collapsed, and nothing would ever again be the same.
Grabbing my duffel bag, I wander down to the driveway where Gabby is straining to lift her suitcase into the van.
"Gabs!" I exclaim, rushing over to aid her. "Be careful. Let me do that." I take the handle from her grip and toss the luggage into the vehicle with ease.
She gives me a weak but grateful smile. "I'm fine, Jackson. You need to stop doting on me."
I open my mouth to respond, to assure her that as her older brother, it is my duty to protect her, but my words are cut short by a shiny red Hyundai pulling up to the curb. It is a familiar car.
I have memorized the chip of paint on the driver's side where the door slammed into a gas station pole on a blustery day. I know that the interior has a fragrance of vanilla and I know that in about five seconds, Sterling will emerge from the passenger seat, her long blonde hair pulled back into a messy ponytail and the silver of her jewelry glinting in the afternoon sun.
I clench my teeth.
"Gabby!" She shrieks ear-piercingly, flying into my sister's arms and nearly barreling her over.
I have to bite my tongue to keep from scolding her not to be so rough. Instead, I settle on an icy glare.
Message received; I think as she makes eye contact with me.
Clearing my throat, I gently tug on my sibling's arm to get her attention. "Gabs, can I speak with you in private for a minute?"
I shoot Sterling another scowl. Alone. Without you, yet again intruding into my life and into my personal space.
Gabby tosses a brief glance in my direction before taking Sterling's fingers in hers and squealing as they jump up and down.
"I'm so excited you're here," she breathes, ignoring me. "Why haven't we thought to invite you along to Maine sooner?"
Because I would have thrown myself into oncoming traffic if you had.
"Gabby..." I say sternly.
She huffs and rolls her eyes. "Excuse me for a minute, Sterling."
She follows me over to the shade of the oak tree in our yard and I gesture at her friend. "What is she doing here?" I seethe. "This is supposed to be a family vacation. And you damn well know that this isn't the summer to make any exceptions."
Gabby plants her hands on her hips and juts out her chin. At five foot two, the last thing my sister should be is menacing but I know her well enough to have come to the conclusion that when she gets angry, she is a spitfire.
I cower slightly beneath her wrath. "Jackson Moretti," she chides, jabbing me in the chest. "Sterling is family. In our world, you know that word doesn't just mean those that our tied to us by blood."
I shake my head. "I don't want her here. She's going to spoil what is meant to be a fond memory."
"Well, I do!" She fires back, her words causing a cardinal to fly away from the limbs of the tree. "I don't know why we are even arguing about this! This trip is just as much for me as it is for you, if not more."
Tears prick her hazel eyes and a wave of guilt floods over me. "You know that Mom and Dad would side with me so why fight it?" She continues.
She's right. They would. But still, I push the issue because in the summer that's already going to be written as the worst and the summer when my mom will still expect me to practice violin until my fingers bleed, no matter how much my heart is breaking or what chaos engulfs my family, I need to seek a break somewhere.
I simply cannot allow adding someone as irritating as Sterling into the mix of stress and agony I am already going to be facing.
"She's boisterous, Gabs," I argue. "And she acts as though the rules don't apply to her. I can't handle being around that type of behavior all summer long."
My sister gives me a long look, disappointment shining in her irises over how I'm not being the brother that she envisions me to be. "So, then don't," she hisses, striding away. She tosses a fiery glance over her shoulder. "You'll probably be too cooped up in your room with your violin to give a damn what we're doing anyway."
I punch the tree with my fist, cursing as the rough bark scratches my skin. Then exhaling, I reluctantly follow her back to the car where Sterling is eyeing me, a wide grin on her face. "Hey, Jay-Jay," she greets.
"It's Jackson," I firmly correct her. I am certain she loves testing me to gauge what my boiling point is, but I remain calm.
Until we pile into the van, and she begins loudly gossiping with Gabby as she smacks on her gum. I close my eyes and inhale deeply.
"Addison convinced me to go skinny-dipping at the lake this past weekend and as we were wading in the water, there was this flash of light amongst the trees..."
She pauses and my sister leans in, her eyes glittering as she hangs on Sterling's every word. "It was the police!" Sterling finishes on a squeal and a clap that startles me.
Gabby slaps her hand over her mouth. "Shut up! What did you do?"
"We thought for sure we were going to get arrested for indecent exposure and trespassing, so we ended up swimming to the other side of the lake and exiting onto the shore from there."
"But...your clothes..." My sister giggles.
"We had to hoof it in the complete nude back to the car!" Sterling smiles broadly as though she is proud of this fact, and I catch her eye in the rearview mirror.
"Grow up," I mutter to myself. I could never picture myself doing anything that reckless. Her actions scream of immaturity, even though she is still only eighteen.
"We had to camp out in the woods for an hour in just our birthday suits until the cops finally called it quits and left." She leans forward, her expression mischievous. "And let me tell you, I think I got bit by fire ants in places that one should not be bitten."
"Serves you right," I mumble.
The admission is all it takes for the two to break down into cackles as though they are witches with warts, conjuring up spells around a bubbling green cauldron.
It wouldn't surprise me if Sterling is half-witch. She is always plotting her next outrageous scheme.
From the backseat, she scoots up towards where I am sitting in the middle and clasps my shoulder. "I suppose we won't catch you doing anything of the sort up at the lake, will we Jacks? You're too much of a do-gooder to ever entertain the idea of something so outlandish."
I swivel around in my seat. "That's not true. I take plenty of risks."
She scoffs, sitting back and smiling smugly. "Name one because I find that extremely hard to believe. You are wound up so tightly that if even one single thread of your being was pulled out of whack, you would unravel completely."
"I had a sip of beer...once."
From the front seat, my mother gasps. "Jackson Moretti! We are going to have a chat about this later, young man."
I give my mother a sharp look but know to hold my tongue for hers is much more intimidating. Even though the woman has been allowing me to consume wine with dinner since the age of thirteen, in her eyes, one sip of beer is absolutely unthinkable.
How dare I?
Sterling tosses her ponytail over her shoulder in triumph, never one to be outdone. "Is that so? Well, I once downed so many nips of vodka that I blacked out and threw up in the bushes behind my house."
I clap my hands sarcastically in her face. "Congratulations! Your parents must be so proud."
"I'm sorry that we can't all be as gifted as you, violin boy," she retorts. "Some of us have to rely on the talents we've been given."
I grit my teeth and face back towards the front, cursing that it's only an hour into the trip and she's already succeeding in riling me up.
Who was I kidding? I think to myself.
Even if my mom had let me forgo bringing along the musical instrument, there is never going to be any chance for rest or relaxation on this trip. Not as long as Sterling is present, crawling under my skin at every chance she gets.
A postcard image forms in my mind of shimmering waters, towering pines, and a mossy cabin. It's addressed to Sterling and splashed across the front in looping letters is the message, Wish you weren't here.
Question of the day: Is Jackson too uptight or is Sterling just too relaxed?