“Oh, Ellie. This is so exciting!” Mom was running around the kitchen like a person on drugs. Today was the day I was leaving for Grandmother Allie's, all the way in America. Where there is no Katherine Ruffision, and no Michaela Waters.
“It's not a big deal. Can I go over to Michaela's?”
“What? Why? You don't want to hang out here?”
“Why would I want to hang out here!? Dad hates me and you're freaking me out. I just want to hang out with Michaela before I won't get to see her for 3 years!” I yelled the last part louder than the others, reminding Mom of her cruel punishment.
Mom sighed. “Fine, Ellie. Go see Michaela. But if I hear one word from anyone that you were at Katherine's, you will stay at Allie's until you're 20!”
I packed a small duffel bag with snacks and went over to Michaela's. I didn't knock on the door, I went up to her tree house instead. Her dad had built a tree house for her younger brother, Micah, and when Michaela saw it, she wanted one too. So it's Micah's tree house with Michaela's on top. There's a rope ladder going around the outside of both of them, so you don't have to go through Micah's to get to hers, though you could if you wanted too.
“Hey Micah!” I yelled through the window as I climbed up the ladder into Michaela's tree house.
“Hey Ellison!” He yelled back, where he was playing a video game with one of his friends.
I sat down on one of Michaela's bean bags and got out my phone.
Ellie- Go to your tree house.
Michaela- Why?
Ellie- Because that's where I am. Duh!
Michaela- Be there in a minute. Am I bringing snacks?
Ellie- No, I brought a duffel. Hurry, though. I can hear Micah and his friend talking, and I don't know how to work this stereo!
Michaela appeared a few minutes later. I heard her yelling at Micah to “Shut up before I force Dad to come out here and pry you guys from the tree house!” She doesn't make very good threats.
“Hey!” She yelled, excitedly, slamming the door behind her. She walked over and turned on the stereo, where Mayday Parade began playing.
“This is a whole lot better than Micah and his friend's conversation.”
“I would hope so.” Michaela laughed and sat down on the zebra print sofa, dragging my duffel over to her to see what snacks I brought.
“I didn't bring a lot. Just a few candy bars and crap left over from the school party.”
“That's fine. My snacks wouldn't have been much better.” She grabbed a Crunch bar out and unwrapped it. I did the same.
“Cheers!” We said, touching our Crunch bars together.
At 3:30, Michaela and I were still in the tree house. Mom pulled into the driveway and honked the horn. I could see from the tree house that my luggage was in the backseat. We would be leaving and going straight to the airport.
Seeing mom in the driveway and knowing that this would be the last time I saw Michaela until I was 18 kind of knocked some sense into my brain. Why was I “celebrating” with Michaela now? Why wasn't I up in my bedroom, crying for myself? For the friends I wouldn't see for 3 years? I started to cry hysterically.
“Oh my gosh, Ellie. What's wrong!?” Michaela asked, rushing over to me next to the window. Oh, Michaela. Acting so innocent. Like you don't even know the cruel punishment inflicted on me by my parents. By the cruel woman in the car in your driveway!
“I'm fine. Promise.” I said after a few minutes. I wiped a few extra tears from my eyes, then walked out of the tree house, holding my head high. Like I was proud to be given the opportunity to go to America and leave all of my childhood friends behind.
“There you are, Ellie. I was wondering where you girls were.” Mom giggled like a little girl as Michaela and I came striding over to the car.
“Mrs. Jamaica, does Ellison really need to go?” Michaela started pleading. You know Michaela, this might have helped when I told you I was moving. The day I'm leaving, though? That's not going to do much.
“Don't bother, Michaela.” I tapped her shoulder and she sunk down, defeated. I whispered “She's heartless.” under my breath and Michaela laughed.
I had made sure to “accidentally” leave my duffel in Michaela's tree house. Last night, I had written a letter to Michaela and put several pictures and keepsakes of mine, along with the letter, in one of the side pockets.
“I'm ready.” I said, once I had hugged Michaela for almost 10 minutes, not wanting to let go, and had buckled myself into the passenger seat.
“Bye Michaela.” I had held out my hand to her and she had held it until we left her driveway.
