Don't Say You Love Me

Chapter TWO

Teegan

Avila beach doesn't have an airport, so I have to fly into a bigger city an hour away and hope my mom doesn't forget to meet me there. She's missed a lot of birthdays over the years, calling me only when it was convenient for her. Once she was pregnant with her son, about seven years ago, it was like I didn't exist anymore. Her new life with her new husband was just better, I guess. I'm still trying not to resent her.

  I get off the plane after a reasonably smooth flight and head over to the baggage claim. I know the airport well. It takes awhile for my bags to appear but I finally get them in my hands and then drag them over to the exit, to wait outside. She hasn't texted, so I assume she'll be here. My mother is the queen of running on her own time, though.

  Half an hour later a text comes in.

  Almost there! Sorry, there was traffic! Hope the flight was smooth!

  So. Many. Exclamation marks. I don't reply. 

  When her big, gray minivan pulls up, I take in a deep breath. This is it. She gets out and pops the back open so I can toss my bags in, her dark hair so similar to mine down, around her shoulders. We do this every year but this year is very different and we both know it. She's looking at me like I grew an extra head on the airplane.

  "Oh, Teegan. You are so grown up!"

  I let her hug me but it's quick and as she backs away, she looks unsure. I give her a my best fake smile.

  "How was the flight?" she asks before we get into the van.

  It felt long. And it was boring. And I couldn't sleep because the seat was so uncomfortable. I listened to music and ignored everyone. But I don't tell her this. There's no point.

  "It was good."

  "Good. Okay, let's get going!" she says, ending the conversation just like that. 

  When I open the sliding door and step into the van, four little eyeballs are staring back at me.

  Josie and Oscar know me, but I'm not as close with them as my half siblings that I live with. These two are four (Josie) and six (Oscar). Still so little, and yet they look so different from last year. My mom's husband, Francis, is in the passenger seat. He turns and says hello right away. I wonder what he thinks about me staying in their beach house all summer?

  "Hey," I say to them all as I slip into the third row seat.

  The kids are both in car seats in the row in front of me, and Oscar turns around as I click in my seat belt.

  "Hi Teeeeegan."

  I give the little boy a wave and he spins back around the right way again.   My mom gets back into her seat and starts driving, as if she picks up her adult daughter for the summer as often as she brushes her teeth.

  I don't really feel like an adult, though. My birthday was two months ago. Graduating high school was a big life event, but even that didn't make me feel any older. I feel like a kid stuck in this almost-adult body.

  "How was the flight?" Francis calls back to me as my mom merges onto the highway to drive back to their tiny beach town they resides in.

  The kids in the row between us are watching something on an iPad. One of them squeals in excitement. The volume on the show is loud so I have to yell to talk to Francis in that front.

  "It was fine," I call back to him.

  "Good, good," he answers but then a minute later, he grunts and then tells my mom something about the email he just received. He's a doctor - plastic surgery - and usually isn't even around much, so I'm surprised he's here, picking me up from the airport.