Hotter than Miami♥

Hello!:)

I hope you enjoy this story. It's going to be this cute summer romance story, of course with loads of bumps and blips in the middle!

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 Tell me how to get back to,

Back to Summer Paradise with you,

And I’ll be there in a heartbeat.

From : Mom

Time: 8:32pm

Honey, I know it’s been a hard month, but I’ve been trying my best to wrap things up here. I can’t make it this Monday either, so rain check on our trip to LA? I’m so sorry. However, I can’t let you spend your entire summer at home, unguarded and unattended, and so I spoke to aunt Clarisse about you staying over this summer. Guess what, she was ecstatic!! We’re still finalizing the dates, so I’ll get back to you on that.

Stay safe and don’t burn down the house. Good night sweetie.

NO. No, no.

This can’t be happening. My long awaited summer plans just cannot go down the drain. I quickly call my mom. Her phone’s busy. Okay, I won’t give up, it’s her secretary then.  Alice picks up on the first ring.

‘Sky, is everything okay?’

‘Hey, um, I guess. Can I please talk to mum?’

‘Honey, she’s currently talking to an important client, so, I’ll tell her to call back once she’s done?’

We say our bye’s quickly. Mom’s a busy woman. Ever since dad passed away, three years ago, she’s been on fire. She’s faster than the wind, and unavailable for conversations that last for more than two and a half minutes. You’d think it was about time for a breakdown, right? Wrong. Mom’s good at the whole –bottling up your emotions- thing. Very good. The week after dad died? She was back on her feet, her ear glued to her precious BlackBerry. And then she was practically never at home. It was weird for me. I was used to her being home on the weekends, attending my parent-teacher meetings, going for shopping sprees. But life’s a rollercoaster life, isn’t it? It’s mostly been going down for me though; I could so do with a direction change.

My head it churning with thoughts. How can I avoid what’s going to be potentially, the worst summer of my existence?

With my head still in deep thought, I step out of my house and into the scorching heat of New York. My skin starts to prickle. Already. I jump into my ancient , chrome yellow, Volkswagen Bug and silently pray to the goddess of Cars to let my dear Buggy live for one more day. After a lot of sputtering (the car), and profanities yelled (me), my car stammers to a start. Mission accomplished.

My car is blessed with an okay radio. If you ignore the slight screeching which gets louder when you hit a bump and the automatic changing of channels once in a while, my car radio is quite agreeable. Okay, ignore the fact that I once thought my car was possessed and I started comparing it with Herbie. I even wanted to spray paint it in the Herbie colors, sadly though, my meager fund didn’t permit it. The screeching sound actually starts to sound like a part of the song after a while.  And even though the air conditioner blasts only hot waves of air, I’m okay. Buggy’s my baby and I’ll love it forever and ever. At least till the radio works.

The weathers getting shittier each day. There’s no wind in the air, and it’s humid enough for you to start sweating buckets a minute after you exit your heavenly, air conditioned homes.  My phone rings, Carly Rae’s ‘Call me maybe’ alerting me that I have a phone to pick up. It’s Lisa, the ying to my yang.