Through Blessed Eyes

Chapter 1-- Evelyn

EVELYN

Sighing, I zip up my pink suitcase, pressing down hard on the top so the bulging bag will close.

"Evelyn?" my mom comes into my room, "Are you all set?" I sigh again. My mom is about to go over my entire list of "What You Will Need" items again, because she apparently thinks a fifteen year old girl can't pack her own suitcase.

"Yes ma'am," I say in my slightly southern accent.

"Clothes for three months?" Mom's brow knits together.

"Yes."

"Underwear and bras?"

"Mom!" I gasp turning a deep shade of red.

"Well do you?" Mom persists.

"No, I managed to completely forget those particular garments," I hiss through my teeth, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Evelyn Thatcher, watch your tone," Mom warns.

"Yes ma'am," I turn so Mom won't see me roll my eyes. I pick up my list off the dresser.

"Look, I went over it twice," I say, handing it to Mom.

"Did you find out who's naughty or nice?" my sister, Bethany, says snidely; grinning as she waltzes into the room. I stick my tongue out at her.

"Guess which list you're on?" I tease, smiling. Bethany mocks offense.

"How dare you suggest that I'm nice?!" she says.

"Tee hee hee," I say sarcastically.

"I still can't believe you're going to be an exchange student!" Bethany exclaims, jumping excitedly around my room, inspecting my passport, backpack, and suitcase.

"I know! I'm just excited I get to go to Scotland! Hey! Don't touch that!" I snap as Bethany starts messing with a snow-globe of mine.

"But it's soooooo tempting!" Bethany pretends to die, her hands clutched to her chest. I laugh while my mom goes over my list for the ten billionth time.

"You have your passport in your backpack?" she asks.

"Yes," I nod.

"You toothbrush?" she inquires.

"Nah, I'm gonna let my teeth rot," I grin. Mom’s green eyes shoot me a disapproving look over the top of the list.

"Evelyn, is Scout gonna come pick you up or are you going to pick her up?" Bethany asks, sitting up.

"Scout's older brother is driving us," I explain.

"Which one?" Bethany asks, "Charlie, Ishmael, Johnny, or Microsoft?"

"Mycroft!" I groan, "And it's Johnny coming to pick us up."

"Sorry! It's not my fault his name sounds like a computer!" Bethany pouts, tossing her chestnut ponytail, her blue eyes snapping.

"Unfortunately, he doesn't have the smarts of a computer," I mumble.

"Evelyn!" Bethany gasps, "That's so mean!"

"Well he tried to see how many times he could hit a beer bottle off of Scout's head with a paintball gun and ended up hitting her on the forehead. I think he might have given her a concussion," I say, rolling my eyes. Bethany looks confused.

"Where in the world did he get a beer bottle? His dad doesn't like beer," she puzzles.

"Do the math," I say.