Beneath The Skies

one.

I had no intention of uttering a single word during our drive to South Carolina. Despite my earnest pleas for us to stay in New York this summer, my parents were unwavering. In just three days, I would be turning seventeen. And for the seventeenth time, embarking on the 13 hour obligatory car ride to Charleston.

I had no intention of uttering a single word during our drive to South Carolina. Despite my earnest pleas for us to stay in New York this summer, my parents were unwavering. In just three days, I would be turning seventeen. And for the seventeenth time, embarking on the 13 hour obligatory car ride to Charleston.

We all knew Mama also didn't want to come this summer either, but it didn't matter. A few weeks ago, when I arrived home early from tennis due to getting rained out, Dad and I overheard her in the kitchen. The main level of our townhouse was not large enough for voices not to carry.

"You shouldn't be forcing yourself to go, damn it in Sade! If you're not up for it, you're not up for it! Let me call William eh? This is bullshit," my Aunt Amara hollered through the phone.

The bullshit she was referring to is us staying at The Michaels' for three weeks. Chad the head of the household is Dad's former frat brother. He and his wife Lily got together with my parents during their final spring break trip of schooling that out of the entire friend group they should continue a life-long friendship and raise children together.

"I know Nwanne m nwany! It's not about me–" she spat at her sister in their native tongue stepping out to see us in the front room.

Mama swiftly informed her sister that she would call her back in a second, explaining that Dad and I had just walked in. Before I could even take off my shoes, Dad promptly ushered me up the stairs to my bedroom barely allowing me to get my shoes off. I tried to listen in the hallway but our old wooden floors gave me away, forcing them to seek privacy downstairs in the cellar.

Groaning, I opened my bedroom door, tossing my tennis bag on the ground and sprawling out on my couch. I lifted my phone over my head, scrolling through Instagram in an attempt to shake off their strange dismissal of me. Closing the app, I stared at the photo on the wall of Mama, pregnant with me, holding her stomach and smiling. Mama was a first-generation college graduate with an immigrant mother. They had moved to Harlem when Mama was 13, and Aunt Amara was only 9.

Their love story began when Mama and my Dad, Will, crossed paths during their time in med school at Duke University. While my mom had faced struggles and came from a different background, Dad, with his privileged upbringing in a rich, upper-class family and a long lineage of doctors, was a Duke legacy admission and the president of his fraternity. Their worlds collided during their medical education, merging two different dimensions of life.

Then there's me, Augustine Rae Fitzgerald, this awesome combo of my parents. Before I came along, Mama went through two tough miscarriages and after battling cancer a few years prior. It was seriously intense for her, and she decided she didn't want to go through all that again. So, boom, I'm an only child. And honestly, I'm totally cool with it. Having my parents all to myself? Best thing ever.

Being an only child, I had the privilege of soaking in all the love, attention, and guidance from my parents. I treasured the special bond we shared and couldn't fathom sharing them with siblings year-round. However, Piper and Fletcher, Chad and Lily's twins were good enough as temporary siblings for three weeks.The twins had been my closest friends since before I could even fathom a world without them. We were practically inseparable during our childhood, sharing secrets, dreams, and countless laughter. Those early summers are something I wouldn't change for the world.

But as highschool came, things began to change. My schedule filled, and I found myself caught up in the whirlwind of a new social life here. Specifically this last year it just meant less effort I put into FaceTime calls and text messages with the twins. The three of us weren't as connected as we once were, mainly on my behalf.