Drastic Changes

Chapter One : Gina

I was walking back to my bedroom as I heard my mom answering the door, saying "Gina! How are you?" So, I walked back down stairs, and there was Mom and Gina—my cousin.

"I'm dropping by because Dad got sick. Is if okay if I stay until he gets better?" Gina asked, smiling sweetly. She was my age—17, but we hadn't hung out in a few years, and she certainly looked way different. Prettier, in other words. She had gone out of her curly hair stage and now her short blonde hair phased to golden blonde hair that went down to her waist. Her eyes were the same Hershey brown they've always been and her freckles were now lighter.

"That's completely fine, Gene! How've you been?" Mom said, grabbing the 3 suitcases Gina had in one hand.

"I've been okay, Aunt Viv." Gina said, walking inside of our house. I stayed quiet, looking at her as I was on the stairs. "Hey Quinn." She glanced at me and gave me a smile.

"Hi." I replied, going down the stairs and then hugging Gina. It wasn't really a hug, it was a side-hug. Although it felt crowded only with me and Mom, I knew our house was fairly large enough for Gina to fit too. 

"Ness, will you show Gina the guest room?" Mom asked me, her eyes saying : Do not act like a brat in front of your cousin, Quinnessa. So I didn't, and then I just waved my hand and lead Gina to the guest room, which was pretty bland, but there was some nice paintings.

"Thanks. Um, how are you?" Gina said, uncomfortably. I shrugged.

"I'm okay, I guess. I don't know. I haven't done much lately, how about you?" I said as I stood by the doorway, awkwardly. I was so uncomfortable at the moment—it made me feel weird when I was by Gina. She was way prettier than me and I felt like we shouldn't be "friends" at the moment because we hadn't talked in years. Years ago, Gina's mom died of cancer, and her drug-addict dad took her in custody and now he's "sick."

"I'm fine." Gina smiled. Under that smile, I knew there was sadness. She knew that when Jeremiah—her dad—got sick, he overdosed. Of course, he still never got Gina took away for some reason. Staring at Gina, I remembered when me and her had gone to Bora Bora with my mom—Vivian—and Bella—her mom—and Jeremiah and my dad—Daniel. It was our favorite memory, and I knew it. It was when everything was right, and when we got to go to somewhere different other than Seattle, Washington, where we lived. Then Jeremiah divorced Bella, and moved away and Bella died, and then Daniel—my dad—had eventually just walked out the door and never came back. Ever.

"Okay." I replied, looking down at the wood floor.

"You've gotten prettier, Quinn." Gina smiled again, sitting on the guest bed, looking at me. I shrugged.

Everyone told me I was pretty, and I was a little pretty, but I didn't care of my looks much anyways. If I was pretty or absolutely gorgeous, I wouldn't care about my looks. Why should I? I mean, looks are only the outside. And the outside is just the first impression. "Thanks, you too."

"Well. I'm going to be heading to bed." Gina told me as she was opening one of her suitcases. I looked over at the alarm clock and saw it was 8:38. "Okay," I reply, nodding.

I walked out of Gina's room and to my own. I got on my bed and laid there, staring at my ceiling fan go in circles. It was kind of like love. It just went on and on until someone turns it off, or gets sick of it. My eyes watched the fans go around and around fast, like they couldn't contain it. Why do humans get so easily attached? So easily entertained? So easily broken? I've been broken before. Plenty of times. But when I got really broken, it was when Bella died, and my dad walked out. Why do we always pay attention to the ones who leave?

I didn't sleep that night. I didn't dream. I remembered.

I remembered Bora Bora. I remembered when me and Gina went into the state fairs, or the woods, or to McDonald's.

Why do kids so easily think things like friendship and people last so long?

As I got up from my purple sheeted bed, I walked over to my window sill, and sat there, watching the sun rise slowly.

I finally realized that I cried at Bella's funeral, but not like this. I was broken on the inside right now.

I had realized that after she is gone, times like that won't happen, and without my dad, there will never be a day where we ever go to Bora Bora, or we ever have a day where it's all the same. Where we all were not ready for the worst, but we were living the best at the time. Now, we can't.

~

Chapter Quote : "The sooner you realize it's never going to go back the way it was, the sooner you can move on."