It all began.... About two hours ago. What I mean by that is, really, when it all ended. My beautiful summer plans, my life...... Essentially ruined. Crushed like my heart. Cause, yeah, my heart was crushed by the move too.
I really hate my Dad's job.
As I scarfed down the remaining strains of my Starbucks tea, I stared blankly at my bedroom wall.
"Wow, and I thought today couldn't get any worse. PMS, Kellie's bad breakup, and now moving. To FREAKING GEORGIA!"
I threw my empty plastic cup across the room, stood upon my bed and waited. For the anger, for some cuss word to pop out, or really anything dramatic and satisfying that would fill me with a feeling of "ha!".
It didn't come.
That awesome, justifying feeling abandoned me.
So I did what any perfectly sane, reasonable person would do. I screamed "FUDGE YOU!!!" at my cute kitten poster.
Yeah. I know. I have great anger management skills.
I flopped down onto my pillows and quilt, barely stifling my scream.
I am so going to hate Georgia. It is going to be super hot and boring and bugs everywhere and I am going to actually hate it. Maybe I could move in with Kellie? No. Momma and Dad would never let me. Not in a blue million billion years. Ha. It's for my own good they say. Not.
I let out a guttural growl slash shriek.
If only I didn't love them so much, then I could actually be mad at them....
Sighing, I dragged myself into a sitting position.
"You can do this, Melanie." I grunted, coaching myself as a mustered up the energy to roll off my bed onto a pile of blankets that had dropped on the ground.
"Oof!"
Lying there on the floor, frustrated, mad, and saddened, I realized something. I needed real food. Like right then.
"Cheetos."
As I had this miraculous realization, I dragged myself up using my bed for support, and started my exhausting trek downstairs to the chip cabinet.
It was a long journey, but three minutes later, I arrived at my destination.
The chip cabinet.
***3 hours later***
I flopped down on the contents of my closet.
My closet was now the cleanest it had been since we moved in. My bedroom floor, however, was a horror all of its own. I had a huge pile of sweatshirts, more leggings than I could count, at least 15 different pairs of flip flops. I discovered so many new shirts I'd thought I'd lost that it was like Christmas all over again.
A random blue sundress was sliding off my bed, and I had draped lacy shirts and bras over the back of my aqua reading chair.
Stacks of other items cluttered the floor. Okay, so maybe I had a lot of clothes.
Fine. Maybe more than a lot of clothes.
YOU ARE READING
Sweet Tea, Fireflies, And Giggles
Teen FictionWhen Melanie moves out to Georgia in the summer, and then is abandoned by her parents and brother for three months, things heat up under the furious Georgia sun.
