Afterglow

Chapter 1 "I'm related to these people"

    I would have to say that movies and television series are the actual saving grace of my sanity. Without them I would not exist let along be the same person. If someone were to ever say they do not have a small part of themselves that are based off of a character they are complete liars. I can proudly say that I have soaked in at least twelve characters and meshed them into my soul. To the people who think that is crazy, they can go fuck themselves.
    As I sit on the couch with my father watching the walking dead I can't help but wonder which character I would be in a zombie apocalypse. Obviously I want to be a Daryl but I feel it would be more realistic if I were a Carol or a Maggie, because breakdowns do exist in their world. My Dad would definitely be a Hershel, he has all the knowledge in the world and has his heart. He's kind and the type of person that is still stern but friendly. I want to be like him when I grow up.
    Now I say that in a little bit of a vague way, I do want to be like him but n ot in every aspect. The parts of him that I deem admirable is his talent of being a great parent, wise, well rounded, and overall a likable person. I admire that my father likes talking to me and my brothers all the time and that he will randomly barge into our rooms and sit on our beds asking us about our day. Or that I can watch a show with him and discuss predictions on what comes next or how much we love a character. How smart he is on every subject. Knows how to do practically everything from handy work to computers, and not to mention everyone that knows him likes him. My father does have flaws , like his anger issues. He inherited them from his father and though he is good at containing it, it still scares me sometimes and I often have to walk on eggshells around him. Thankfully my older brother did not inherit that trait and is honestly the kindest person I have ever met. My younger brother on the other hand, oh yeah he can get angry with a snap of a finger.
As if on queue,  my older brother walks in and plops on the couch with a thud and pulls out his phone. He definitely has the receiving love language of quality time and physical touch. We are similar in that way which also leads to lots of random car trips to go and grab something to eat or just random visits into my room with no words said. That is probably my favorite time. We both don't really care for talking all that much and I think we both silently appreciate that about each other. I would consider Landon like my second father, as most older brothers would be considered. My younger brother on the other hand hell no. He has his moments of maturity, but mostly he acts his age which is 15. I could see once I got older us all being really close with each other but in the mean time we are worse than a girl with mood swings on her period. But that's really how siblings are supposed to be. You hate each other one minute and then you are laughing at a meme or realistically your other family the next.
There is one rule that is known across the house and its pretty standard through every household. DON'T make fun of Mom. She is not the type to mess around in that way and will get angry. Considering she is a natural red head you wouldn't want to make her mad in general. And that is why for me and my older brother our father is our favorite parent. Our mother is Spencer's favorite, which makes total sense since he is the youngest. Anyone who says the psychology of oldest, middle, and youngest doesn't exist; they clearly were an only child. There is a reason we go to our father to ask anything that may be a little questionable. An example would be from a week ago when I asked if I could go and visit my friend Ashley in Corvallis for spring break. I went to my father first because he would be logical in answering my question. Which he did exactly what I predicted. He asked how long, what were going to do, and what car I would want to be taking. So in preparation I had answers to all those questions before like an interview.
    In the end I was granted permission to go and see Ashley for three days and was to be home before dark on the last day. Was there reason for him to doubt or be skeptical of me going up there? No. I'd like to refer to myself as a "good girl" if you will. I'm not the kind that will not have any fun, but I know my father trusts me to the point where he knows I'm not going to make bad decisions that will ruin my life. Normally, in this situation since I am a middle child, I supposedly should be allowed to go anywhere since they would forget about me. That is according to psychology. In this case, I am the only girl so that goes out the window. In reality I am the princess so I will usually have stricter rules than the boys and everyone is hyper aware when I am around.
    Since I was cleared to go to Ashley's, I go up to my room and pack in preparation of leaving. Yes it was a risk asking last minute but somewhere in my gut it told me I was going to get permission. I have a way with my father. We are the most similar I would say on a spiritual level. My older brother and me both share his easy going attitude, problem solving techniques, and the ability to be really good with people. Well with me just a little good with people, I still get really anxious in most situations. Landon also got his way with words. My grandpa says when my Dad was growing up he could talk anyone into thinking it wasn't raining as they were standing drenched in a huge storm. And I believe him. Listening to him tell stories is one of my favorite things. I definitely didn't get that. I jumble around and skip ahead only to hit the reverse button. So I normally let my Dad or Landon tell the stories.
    'I can't believe you got Dad to let you go on your little trip." Landon says as I turn my head towards him. He leans on my doorway with his arms crossed but facing me.
    "What? Jealous?" I say with a smirk on my face.
    "No, at least I'll finally get a couple of days free from you."
    "Oh come on, you know you'll miss me like crazy. In fact, I bet you can't go the whole time without calling me." I say continuing to fold the clothes into my bag.
    "Pfft, please. Piece of cake." He says rolling his eyes.
    "Is that a deal?"
    I hold out my hand with a smirk on my face. He eyes my hand with a smirk of his own and slowly stands from the doorway and makes his way over to me. We never make any deals or bets in this house without shaking hands. It's kind of a tradition instilled by our grandfather. He would always bet with us and make us shake hands to make it official. I know that goes through his head too as he slowly raises his hand to mine.
    "If I win you do my laundry for a month." He spits shaking my hand.
    "And if I win you have to help me on all of my homework."
    He slightly furrows his brow at my request. Probably curious as to how that was what came to my mind as a reward. Truthfully, I am not doing so well in school. I used to be really talented and gifted as a student. Got good grades, teachers pet, and would be the smartest in my class. Now I'm starting to slip and feel like there is a block in my brain against learning forming. Though my family doesn't have to know that yet and they won't until I look back and am telling the story in thirty years.
    "Oh no way in hell I'm losing now." He laughs as he's heading out of my room. I snicker and shake my head. He should know I am the more determined one. I will do something just to spite the other person. Though he has that kind of determination too only I need the reward more than he does.
    I wake up in the morning to no alarm with the light shining through my window. This is my favorite way of waking up. No immediate obligations and no rush of getting out of bed. I look at the clock and see that it is eight thirty. Hm earlier than I predicted, I must of fell asleep really fast. I crawl out of bed and walk down the hall to the bathroom only for my younger brother to run past me and slam the door in my face.
    "Spencer!" I shout and bang on the door. I can hear chuckles from the other side. "Spencer I have to get ready so I can leave for my trip!"
    "What trip?" He asks
    "I'm going up to see Ashley." I say wiggling the doorknob.
    "How on earth did you get permission to do that?" He questions clearly sitting on the toilet from the sound of his voice. Don't ask, its a sibling thing.
    "My special talents." I boast standing back from the door. He swings it open with an annoyed look on his face.
    "That is totally not fair how come I don't get to go anywhere?" He whines while his annoyed look turns to a wounded one.
    "Maybe its based on the fact that I am nineteen years old and you are fifteen." I say with a straight face and a slight sense of duh. He scrunches his nose and breezes past me in a fit. I turn back to the bathroom and notice the lingering smell he left. I really want to throw up. How did I not notice that when he opened the door? I quickly grab the air freshener and spray religiously around the bathroom. After I am finished with that I close the door and hop in the shower. Enjoying every second, I take a little bit longer than I probably should but eventually decide it is time to get out.
The question is do I get ready with effort or do I dress homeless until I get there and then get ready? The pros of getting ready now is that I will be gassed up for the car ride and have some bomb ass concerts with happy music. The cons are I have to take the time to get ready. But if I don't get ready I can hop in the car quickly and jam out to break up songs and sad music and have a feelings ride. And the probability of having a sad mood arriving are extremely high. Hmmmm..
To hell with it I'm getting fully ready its spring break for gods sake.
I turn on my straightener and go back into my room to pick out my spicy outfit for the day. And by spicy I really mean I'm wearing a pair of leggings that make my butt look good and a tank top that is tight around the breast but then turns into a half skirt. I have awful fashion taste and I know it but I accept it. To my luck, Ashley is has great fashion sense so hopefully she can help my pick out some outfits. After blow drying my hair I straighten it as quick but as good as possible. Mainly because I just want to get on the road. So with that in mind I do minimal makeup that includes mascara, eyebrows, and a light layer of concealer under my eyes. Enough to make me look more alive but not to the point where its recognizable.
I pack all of the last minute toiletries and mentally check that I have everything before saying goodbye to my parents and getting into the car. Before I forget, I quickly send a text to Ashley that I got permission and am on my way. The trip is filled with music that you would vibe to at the beginning of summer or if you were just in a happy mood, but my main focus was on Taylor Swift. I probably couldn't even go a day without listening to her music. I arrive to Ashely's house at one and excitedly go to call her and tell her I am here.
"What's up?" She answers.
"Guess who is standing outside your apartment building?"
"Oh! You're here! Cool, I'll be down in a sec." She says with very little enthusiasm. Normally I would be a little upset she didn't sound more excited but I have come to the conclusion that is just who Ashley is. The only times I have seen her show great enthusiasm is when she is getting a call from her younger brother or talking to her grandparents. And it is understandable considering her history. Her Mom was a drug addict while she was growing up and left her and her half brother when she was in middle school. Then has the audacity to come back to her grandparents to steal from them and leave every couple weeks. So she doesn't really get her hopes up for much. And she never lets me forget that I have a great situation at home with my parents.
Ashley opens the door and gestures for me to come in. We ride up the elevator exchanging pleasantries and small talk until reaching her apartment. You can't really talk the raunchy stuff until you're behind closed doors. And as soon as they were closed Ashley gets right to it.
    "So I went to Josh's house last night." She says with almost no emotion at all.
    "How was it? Did it improve from last time?" I mimic her enthusiasm.
    "Eh, he was definitely more excited to see me than I was him. And he did last a little longer but didn't do anything different."
    "He sounds like no fun then." I finish and we both sit I her bed scrolling through our phones. Now from that conversation it sounds like I know about sex and have had a long list that I have slept with. Ha ha no. My body count is zero. Not because I'm waiting for marriage. Not because I couldn't find somebody to hook up with. It's because I'm scared to be that vulnerable. Can I talk like a prostitute? Hell yes I can. But the second you put me in to play I buckle my knees and faint. And Ashley sort of knows that. She understands that I'm quote, "not ready" to have sex yet and she thankfully accepts that and doesn't tease me outrageously about it. Is Ashley sort of a hoe? Yes, but will I tell her that? No because I would like to live.
    "Wanna go get a drink?" Ashley asks me looking up from her phone.
    "Uh yeah lets go." I reply jumping up from the bed.
    Now in Oregon there is a coffee/drink place that everyone likes to go to and that is Dutch Bros. It's really only a west coast thing but I guarantee that in like ten years it will be a nationwide deal. As we head to the Dutch stand I roll down my window and angle my head out of the car. The breeze feels amazing. We pull up to the stand and I notice the worker on the side we are in line for.
    "Uh Ashley do you see who's working?" I frantically point at the stand window.