After a while, I get bored and check my phone to see its only been about 45 minutes, but i've been listening to music to pass the time. I sigh and jump off my bed, grabbing my duffel bag from the floor. As i'm walking out of my room, a feeling of sadness sort of consumes me. I turn around and scan the room, taking in the small space, and the low ceiling. I drop my duffel bag and enter the room again. I walk around the entire room, pulling my favorite posters off the wall, rolling them up and putting a hair band around each of them. By the time I'm done I have about 12 posters collected. Next, I walk over to my collection of cds. I grab only my favorites again. Lana Del Rey, 5sos, Arctic Monkeys, Passenger, and Miley Cyrus. I unzip my duffel bag and shove the cd's in, but there's no room for the posters, so I grab another small bag from my closet and shove those in the bag.
I walk out of my room and turn around for one more glance before whispering "It was a good 15 years," and closing the door behind me.
When I get downstairs I drop my duffle bag and plop down on the couch, laying my head back to study the ceiling again.
I can hear my mother and her 5 inch heels still clacking around in the kitchen.
"So, how long you been plannin' this one out?" I shout, not bothering to look into the kitchen.
There's no reply, only a long sigh.
"Quite sometime actually. Almost since your father left." she replies, laughing to herself.
That gets my attention. I flip over onto my stomach and look into the kitchen with wide eyes.
"6 years?!" I yell.
"Oh, yes my dear. I really just can't handle you on my own," she says walking into the living room and sitting in a chair across from me. I roll onto my side to look at her.
"That's what a mature mother would do," I say sarcastically.
She clenches her jaw.
"No, it's what any mother in her right mind would do if they had to deal with little brats LIKE YOU," she says, her tone angry and irritated.
I can tell that I've angered her which makes me laugh.
Soon, I hear a car pull up out front. I look out of the window and see a moving van. Apparently, it's not driving us all the way to Atlanta, just to the airport. I sigh and then yell.
"CHASE, THE MOVING VAN IS HERE."
I see Chase at the top of the stairs, tears in his eyes. He walks slowly down the stairs. When he reaches the bottom, I walk up to him and kneel down infront of him. I reach up my thumb and wipe the tears away.
"We gotta be strong buddy, it'll be fun okay?" I say trying to cheer him up.
"But all of my friends are here." he sobs.
"I know, all of my friends are here too. But we'll make a lot of new friends down in Atlanta," I try to reassure him, ruffling his hair and standing up.
There's a knock on the door. My mother goes to open it. When it opens, I see a short woman in almost the same outfit as my mother, but her hair was up in a neat bun, and she had glasses.
"I'm here to take you to the airport," she says calmly.
"Right," I say picking up my two bags. Chase only has a small bag, but I don't question it. My mother begins to tear up. Fake. Of course. I roll my eyes and huff.
As we're walking out my mother pulls me into a strong embrace.
"I'm going to miss you so much," she says, tearfully, running her hands through my hair.
"Whatever, bitch," I say under my breath, pushing her away.
She acts shocked as I walk out the door past the moving lady, who also looks shocked.
My mother covers her mouth and then shouts, "I love you!" as I continue down the side walk.
I reply loudly with, "HA!" not even looking back. I keep walking till I get down the sidewalk, to the moving van and swing the door open. As I swing it open, I see 3 other people in there, about my age. All boys. They suddenly look very interested in me as if I'm a piece of meat. I try my best to ignore it and hop into the van, tossing my bag to the floor. Since the boys have the back seats, I take a seat in front of them. I look out the window to watch my mother place a kiss on Chase's head. I roll my eyes.
"Quite the show you put on back there," one of the boys speaks up, suddenly. I turn around and see that the boy who spoke, is...very attractive. Side swept brown hair, blue eyes. I mean he was hot. But I would never give him the satisfaction by mentioning it.
"Yeah.. it was." I say, and then turn to face front again.
The other boys laugh.
"Sassy," another one says.
"We like that."
I roll my eyes and suddenly feel a hand playing with my hair. I turn around.
"Don't touch me," I say sternly.
They just laugh again.
"Make me," one of them says, and winks, nudging the boy next to him.
I just turn around, trying to ignore them.
"Guys, guys, she's probably never done this before," says the attractive boy.
This gets me curious. I've never done what before?
Suddenly, the van door swings open and Chase hops in, tears staining his rosy cheeks. Once he's buckled in I lean over to him and whisper.
"Chase, it'll be fine, I promise okay? We're gonna live with Grandma and everything will be okay," I place another quick kiss to his forehead.
"Awww," I the boys in the back say, collectively. I sit up and shoot a glare at them. What are their problems?
"So sincere," says the dark haired boy again.
I can't help but to stare. He's.... perfect actually. I wonder if he was going the same place I was.
"The name's Chandler. Chandler Riggs," he says, reaching out a hand. I turn down the hand shake.
"So, you're going the same place as us?" he asks.
"Depends on where you're going." I reply.
"Well, if you're in this van..which you are, you're getting on a plane, which you are.. I would assume?"
I nod my head yes.
"And once we get off that plane, we'll be in Atlanta, and in Atlanta, there's a private schoo-" I cut him off.
"No no no. I don't do private schools. Been there done that. Not going back," I say shaking my head.
"Whatever you say, hot stuff," he says, fist bumping his friends.
Are we twelve?
"Don't call me that. Especially infront of my little brother," I say shooting him a glare, pointing at Chase.
"Mmm..feisty," says his friend.
"And who's this dumbass?" I ask.
"Oh, we can't call you hot stuff because of your little brother, but you can call us dumbasses?" Chandler says, jokingly.
"Ahh no. I called that one a dumbass, not you." I say pointing to a boy with about the same hairstyle as Chandler.
"The names Trent," he says nodding.
"Oh.." I say.
"And what's your name?" Chandler asks.
"Ariana Peters, but every one just calls me, Ari.. for the most part," I answer quietly.
"And what if I were to call you Ariana? Would that make you mad?" he smirks.
"Are you trying to get on my bad side, because this will be one hell of a ride for you if that's your goal," I sternly, my patience with the boy growing thinner by the minute.
Chandler and his two buddies begin laughing. I should be mad at him right now, but he's so cute. When they're finally done laughing, the boy sitting furthest from Chandler speaks up.
"I'm Shawn," he says.
"Hi.." I say awkwardly, and turn around.
Finally, after having about a 10 minute conversation with my mom, the moving lady driving us to the airport comes back to the van.
"Alright, we've got to be there in about an hour and a half," she says before stepping on the pedal. I look out the window, and realize this is probably the last time I'll see this house, or one of the last times anyways. Before we turn the corner I can see my mom smirk and slam the door. She's probably having wine right now. Celebrating with herself.
"Sad about leaving your mommy?" Chandler says in a baby voice. I just keep staring out the window.
"Shut up," I simply respond.
"You know..if you are going to the private school..I can make you feel better..once we get there," I can tell he's smirking, and I can't even see him.
I turn around and see his friends laughing their asses off.
"There is no way in hell, that I would ever do anything with someone like you," I say, even though I don't honestly believe that myself.
"Right, whatever you say," he laughs and his friend pats his leg.
I could already tell this was gonna be one of the longest rides of my life. I sigh and put in my headphones blocking out the three boys' annoying voices.
It'll be okay, Ari. You can do this.