When Summer Ends

02

02

Our house sat two streets away from the beach. The driveway is lengthier than what it needs to be. I mean, who wants to feel like they just walked two miles just to reach their front door? My shoulder is aching from carrying this duffel bag so I scurry towards the door as fast as my legs will allow. I pause as I raise my fist to knock. This is my home, should I even knock? Or just walk right in? I feel idiotic for overthinking it. I take a deep breath and then knock. I hear footsteps growing closer and closer and then the handle moves and here I am – face to face with my mom.

Everyone says the same thing – I look like my mom and my sister looks like dad. Mom and I shared the same chestnut wavy hair and deep brown eyes whereas my sister obtained her honey blonde hair and hazel eyes from dad.

Even though I never bothered to let my mom know that I'm coming back home, she appears more unimpressed than surprised.

"So, you decided to come back." She is stony faced.

"You don't look happy about it." I reply.

Mom scoffs and wraps her cardigan tightly around herself. "I'm not exactly looking forward to routinely picking you up from the police station and finding empty bottles of Brandy in your bedroom."

I look down at my shoes, feeling ashamed. "Mom, I'm not like that anymore. I've grown up."

"I doubt you have considering you've been living with your father for the past year, I know how he likes to let you get away with everything."

Of course, my mom had to stick a jab in there about my dad. She hates him. In her defence, he did cheat on her and then left her for his mistress a couple of years ago. I was mad at my dad too for a while.

"I know that I forced you to put up with a lot of my antics and I'm sorry for that but I promise you, I am done with being a dumb teenager." I respond, and I mean it sincerely.

"You act like I haven't heard your apologies a thousand times before. It gets to a point where they become meaningless."

I sigh. "I have been sober for a year now. I finished school and haven't been in trouble since leaving here. You know that."

"Let me check your bag." She demands.

"Are you serious? You think I'm hiding alcohol?"

Mom just looks at me stony faced. If I have to be truthful, her distrust of me is justified. I decide it's not worth the fight and I slide my bag off my shoulder and dump it at her feet.

After a thorough inspection and finding nothing, my mom moves to the side to allow me in the house. When I step inside, a sense of relief crashes over me. I'm grateful to be home.

As soon as you entered my house you can immediately tell that my mom is an interior designer. When my parents were still together, my mom tried to convince dad to paint the walls in the living room turquoise blue but he always refused. So, when he moved out, not only did my mom finally paint the living room walls blue – she painted almost every single wall in the house blue, out of pettiness.

I follow my mom into the kitchen where she is preparing dinner. She resumes peeling carrots. I drop my heavy bag on the floor and shake my tender arm out.

"Sorry that I didn't call in advance, I thought you would have told me that I'm not welcomed back." I explain.

"Viviana, you're always welcome home."

She sounds genuine but the conversation we had the day that I packed my bags and walked out made it hard to believe her.

The tension in the room is palpable. I don't know what to say. Are we going to pretend that everything is normal? Because I don't remember what normal is.

I remember Gigi. "I stopped by Betsy's a short while ago."

My mom grabs a knife and begins chopping up the peeled carrots. "Isn't it unfortunate? Poor woman's heart kicked it."

"The new owner, Gigi, offered me a job." I say as I open the refrigerator and scan it until I spot a can of Arizona Iced Tea which I snatch with eagerness.

"I don't know if she's the best role model." Her voice has a judgmental undertone.

I pull the tab back on my drink. "I guess she's a little rough around the edges but I think working would be a positive thing for me."

"Mhm. I'm not disagreeing."

I chug back the iced tea and then set it down on the marble kitchen bench. Now that I'm back in Coral Cove, I don't know what to do with myself. I have very important people that I left behind. My sister being one.

My sister and I have always been close. We're only a year and half apart in age. But we were different in various ways. She is level headed and an overachiever, I was very much the opposite. Sasha stood by me even when I didn't deserve it.

"Where's Sasha? Is she home?" I ask my mom.

"She should be in her room I believe." She answers.

Excitedly, I stride out of the kitchen and head down the hallway, I walk up the staircase and then head for Sasha's bedroom to the left. I try to tread softly; I want to surprise her. I wrap my hand around the metal handle.

"Guess who?" I shout as I swing the door open abruptly.

My face falls.

My sister and Nicolai making out in her bed.

They pull apart swiftly as they both look at me with their mouths and eyes wide open. The room is spinning and my mouth turns drier than the Sahara desert.

"I-I'm so sorry," I breathe before backing out and slamming the door shut.

I walk backwards until my back hits the wall. There is no way. No fucking way. Nicolai Zillman, the boy I've been friends with since I was ten. And loved since I was at least twelve is hooking up with my sister.