Where The Road Ends

Chapter One: Making the Move (Again)

"Tess, grab your things. I'll get the food." My mom instructs me from the kitchen outside our bedroom in this tiny apartment.

I grab my duffle bag and start stuffing my things into it. Besides clothes the only thing I really have of value to me are photos of what my family use to be before my dad left. I'm almost done ripping pictures off the wall when I see Pony on the floor, a stuffed dog toy I've had since I was a baby.

I pick up Pony and sit on my bed. I stare at the blank eggshell white walls.

Our room looks just like how it did a month ago when we first moved in. Empty, just like my life.

It's like I was never here. I think. But then again, what difference does it make? I've lived in so many motels, apartments, even our car. I don't think anyone would care if I wasn't here. I don't even know if my mom cares anymore. I don't know if I care anymore.

Mom and I get in the car. Believe it or not, everything we own was able to fit in the trunk of her beat up, silver 2003 Honda Civic.

My mom pulls out of her parking space in front of our apartment, although I guess it's not ours anymore, it never was ours. If this was a movie, I would look back out the back window, gazing thoughtfully at our old apartment. Sad music would play and I would wave dramatically towards the apartment building. Then a single tear would slide down my face. My mother would pull me close will one arm and tell me everything is going to be ok.

But this isn't a movie. What really happened was not that interesting. I didn't look back because later it will just be one of the many, many, places we had stayed. My mom doesn't pull me close, she's not like that. At least not since dad left us.

Instead my mom pulls her bleached platinum blonde hair into a ponytail at the red light. The ponytail reveals her dark roots. She looks at me kinda surprised like she forgot I was next to her in the passenger seat. Keeping her eyes on the road she says, "If you're hungry, theres a granola bar in my purse." She lazily gestures to the backseat.

If she knew anything about me she would know that I absolutely hate granola. But, of course, I have bigger problems than a snack. We both do.

Where is my mom gonna work? Is she going to work at all? What school will I go to? Will I even go to school? All these questions overwhelm my brain.

What I don't think about is where we're going. Who cares? It's not like we'll be there for long.

...

5 hours and two cans of Red Bull later my mom exits off the highway and we enter a cute beach town.

I pull one of my earbuds out.

"Don't tell me you have to pee again," I say, rolling my eyes.

"I don't have to pee, silly, this is where we live now."

"Huh?" I thought we would be on the road for a lot longer than this.

"Were you not listening to me like 10 minutes ago?" She asks me, visibly annoyed.

I wasn't listening, I've learned to tune her out. Honestly, I've learned to tune most of the real world out by listening to music.

I don't answer her and she sighs. It's silent in the car for about 5 minutes, then she finally says, "We're going to live with your grandmother."

"Your mom? I've never even met her."

"You met her when you were born, so technically you have, Tess."

She turns onto a palm tree-lined street and then into the drive way of a small one-story house. The house is painted yellow, but it's faded from the sun. The grass in the yard is overgrown but there's a blue boat in the carport.

She rings the doorbell and peers through the glass door. Moments later, a petite woman in her 70's arrives at the door. She hesitates and then says, "Stephanie, what are you doing here?"

"Hey mom, we've come to stay with you for a bit." She points back to me. "This is Tess." I half-smile at this stranger.

"Stephanie," it's weird to hear her say that, since my mom has always gone by Stevie, at least as long as I've known her. "You can't just show up like this. I haven't even heard from you in over 15 years."

"I know mom. But I wouldn't be here unless I had no where else to go." That's not true, she always seems to have somewhere to go, there must be some other reason why she chose to come here. "Besides, don't you want to get to know your granddaughter?"

My grandmother looks disappointed, but not surprised. She glances at me for a second, unimpressed by my appearance. "How long do you expect to be here?" She asks my mom directly.

"Uh, not long. I just- I had no where to go so I came here and um can we please just stay for a little while?" She struggles to get it out.

My grandmother sighs, then fully opens the door. "The guest room isn't clean. I wasn't expecting company."

"No worries," my mom says already heading back to her car to retrieve her bags.