Hidden Fox

Five

Packing proved to be more difficult than I was initially expecting. It ended up taking me the entire week to get it done, checked, and double checked. It was a lot of scrambling trying to make sure I wasn't forgetting anything I needed. A big concern on my mind was what if I met him? What if I actually would need everything?

It was stressful. We were leaving tomorrow.

We had decided to make a whole family trip out of it, so I wasn't the only one scrambling around trying to pack my things. And when I wasn't working on my bags, I was across the bathroom in May's room helping her pack her suitcase.

At least May's stuff was easy, she only needed enough clothes to last her a week. I needed practically my whole closet.

That night, I said my goodbyes to my pack, which wasn't that heartfelt if I were being honest. The adults cared more than anyone around my age, but the adults were who had seen me grow up, who had adored me when I was a child. At least that meant it was fast.

Tuesday morning, we loaded Dad's pick-up with all our bags and hit the road.

It was long, and very monotonous—especially once we got out of the mountain roads and it transitioned to the flat western plains of which there seemed to be no end. I passed the time by sleeping, playing road-trip games with May and August, and plainly listening to music while staring out the window. For a while, I chatted with Mom and Dad, each of us discussing theories and hopes for what my new life might be like out here.

I could tell it was hard for Dad, talking about me leaving (considering how quickly it all had come into place!). I was his first born, his heir, his oldest girl. As we were talking, I thought I caught moisture reflecting in his blue eyes through the mirror—eyes he gave to me, actually: crystal blue like the clearest area of the ocean mixing with the stretch of sky above it. Unfortunately I did not inherit his blonde hair with ends that naturally twisted into curls. I got my mom's cinnamon-brown hair that was straight as a pin and August ended up with my dad's hair and my mom's chocolate eyes. It was like genetics flip-flopped from me to him.

May was special, she ended up being a complete perfect mix of our parents with her dirty blonde hair and eyes that seemed to hold every color of the rainbow in the irises. I just knew that she was going to be sought out by every boy when she hit her teen years.

After a total trip time of twenty-nine hours in the car—we drove through the night, switching between Dad, Mom, and myself at the wheel—we finally pulled off from the highway, driving down a series of small-town roads. We passed the campus I would be going to as of Monday before the maps led us down a long dirt road, tangled through a large expanse of forestry. It reminded me of our territory, just without the mountain peaks stretching above the tree-tops. Finally, we were pulling onto a brick driveway that led to a large circular parking area.

The pack house in front of us was gorgeous, with a white stucco exterior lined with brown accents: the garage doors (there were several), the window framing, the roof, and the trim. A small fountain sat to the side, near the steps leading to a large wooden front door. The windows with lights on inside gave a warm glow to the white building making it even more magnificent looking.

Dad turned the car off and we all climbed out. Both May and August gasped when they got the full view of the house, even though we had grown up in a house just as big and beautiful, the design was slightly more appealing than ours back in Vernal.

The front door swung open suddenly and we all audibly snapped our hanging mouths closed and tried to look at least half-way presentable. Or at least as presentable as we could get after over a day in the car with hardly any stops.