Solo

Chapter One: Change

Mom flipped the turn signal of the moving van and veered toward the exit. Following in my Volkswagen bug, I caught a glimpse of a small sign welcoming us to Myrtle Creek. I couldn't help but wonder where the town was when we rolled through the main strip. Other than a few scattered houses, a general store, a gas station, a couple of restaurants, and a bowling alley, the town-and I use that term loosely-was scarce. Where was the mall, the movie theater, the miniature golf course, the amusement park, the water park, and, more importantly, the beach?

Mom pumped the brakes, interrupting my slight panic attack. We veered onto a road leading in the direction of mountains. About ten minutes later, we turned into a driveway meandering to a white farmhouse.

My gramps and grandmother were sitting on the porch in decades old wicker chairs. My grandmother walked to the top of the steps and waited. Gramps, on the other hand, hurried down to meet us.

"Hi, Dad," Mom beamed.

"How was your trip, young lady?"

"It was great. Eliana did superb for driving her first road trip."

Gramps turned and opened his arms to me. "Come here, Munchkin. I've missed you."

I grinned and gave him a big hug. "Hi, Gramps; I've missed you, too." I inhaled peppermint, the familiar scent that always followed him. Memories of piggyback rides, sneaking cookies before dinner, and funny jokes surfaced. Mom always told me I'd inherited Gramps' sense of humor.

I looked past Gramps and saw my grandmother with her arms firmly crossed. She wasn't your typical grandma. You know, the kind with fresh baked pies sitting on the windowsill. My grandmother was... Well, she was more like a warden.

I slowly approached her.

"Hello, Eliana." She awkwardly gave me a half-pat-on-the-back kind of hug.

"Hi, Grandma; thanks for taking us in." I tried to chisel through the ice.

"You're welcome," she replied stiffly.

My mom walked up beside me. "Hi, Mom."

"Hello, dear. I have your rooms ready. I put Eliana in your old bedroom. You're in the room across from hers, just in case."

I looked away and rolled my eyes. What did "just in case" mean? Was it "just in case" I got scared in the middle of the night like I was seven years old, or "just in case" I tried to sneak out like I was an unruly teenager? This was going to be a long year.

We each grabbed a bag and entered the house. I opened the door to my "so-called" bedroom and sucked in the aroma of rose potpourri and moth balls. My eyes rounded at the princess palace with its frilly pink walls bordered by purple castles and a dozen-that's right-twelve porcelain dolls staring at me from a wooden shelf. If anything could scare me, those beady eyes could. I stood there flabbergasted and Mom walked in.

"Honey, we'll fix it later. Just start unloading your car."

"You're sure lucky I love you," I whispered.

By the time we finished unloading, it was too late to return the van to the rental company, so we decided to wait until after I was enrolled in school the next morning. An uneasy feeling swirled in the pit of my stomach. I wasn't ready to start a new school. Mom must have sensed something because she told me she would give me another day to unpack.

After dinner, I started to organize my room, trying to make the princess palace feel more like me. First thing-turn all the dolls around so I wouldn't have to look at their creepy faces. Maybe my grandmother would get the hint and remove them. I tacked up a few of my favorite posters and hung the bulletin board my friends had made for me. It had tons of photos of us at school dances, trips to the beach, and other fun memories. Looking at the photos reminded me to text my friends later. I didn't feel like I had accomplished much unpacking when Mom came in.