Eve and Timothy

Chapter 1: Summer

"I don't want to go!" I said. "Eve, you are going," my father replied as he shut the trunk of the car. "I have so many other plans this summer. Liv and I were going to go bowling on Saturdays, Emma and I were planning to have a sleepover every other Wednesday night, May and I were going to-" "I don't want to hear it!" he interrupted. "You knew for a long time that we were going to California for the summer," he continued. "You didn't even care to ask me what I wanted to do though! Why don't I just stay home and you go to California. I am fifteen after all!" I exclaimed resentfully. "Exactly, you're only fifteen!" He said as he walked to the house. I pinched my lips together and frowned.

I rested my face on the seatbelt as the car backed out of the driveway. My head rocked back and forth as it drove over rocks and small piles of dirt. I was so mad at my dad for taking me away. It almost seemed like a punishment. I sighed as I watched familiar buildings and landscapes disappeared behind me revealing mysterious lands I had never seen before. An hour passed before I left Nevada and entered California. I glanced at Lake Tahoe as it too disappeared behind me. Hours rolled by on the never ending car ride. "Forty minutes until Vancomb," dad announced.

As we approached Vancomb the forest around us became more and more dense. Fewer and fewer cities appeared as we passed through them. I wondered were we were even going. The pine trees towered over the car. The concrete road slowly turned to a dirt one and became increasingly more narrow. I finally saw a road sign. I was a wooden one that was carved with jagged letters saying, "Vancomb, ½ miles." "Almost there," dad remarked. I could tell he was tired.

We finally entered Vancomb. It was even smaller than I had imagined. Most houses looked more like large cabins than houses. Other houses were small and square like, most shaped like an L with a porch in the front. There were large fields in between houses filled with different types of livestock, most were filled with houses. Each house had its own barn. We passed the school which was tall and painted a shinny red color. It seemed to be the newest building there. Everything else was run down. The town looked just like a stereotypical cowboy ranch.

Finally the car pulled up to my grandmother's drive way. I stepped out of the vehicle and was greeted by my grandma. "Eve! Look at how big you got!" she exclaimed. Then she began hugging and kissing me. She turned away from me and then greeted my father. "Mark," she said more calmly. She hugged him too. "How have things been?" She asked in a calm and loving way. "Tough, but what can you do?" He said smiling. She smiled at him back, "Come inside. I prepared both your rooms."

My grandma's house was an average sized house, but seemed like a giant compared to the other homes. It was a beautiful antique house. I was painted a light yellow, and was very clean. The lawn had freshly cut grass with a few flowers growing in front of the porch. There was a swing hanging from a small tree in the front yard. The windows had no glass, but were replaced with white shutters. The inside of the house was cozy and seemed much smaller on the inside. The front door lead right to the kitchen and living room. A piano was set right next to the stares that lead to the second floor. The second floor had three bedrooms. One was for my grandmother, which I was not aloud in. The second and third were my father's bedroom and mine.

I set my luggage on my bed and then began to look around the room. There was a small white dresser that sat in the corner of the room next to a rickety desk. There was an old deep red carpet with, what seemed to be a pattern but was so worn you could barely see what it was supposed to be. The bed had a white and light pink pattern on in with a quilt resting at the end of the bed. The pillows were flat and hard with no pillowcases on them. I began to unpack my clothes into the dresser, then I took my art supplies and put them on the desk neatly.