Our Summers

Chapter 1

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   Mr. Richard and Mrs. Richard's beach house in California was a two-story house color schemed a relaxing brown that can also be perceived as some shade of dirty red. Their children, my younger sister Sally's usual playmates, spent probably more than twice than we did in that house, with their parents's love and enthusiasm to get away from the everyday hustles and bustles of life. They were an outgoing and adventurous family.

   The Richards had three kids. Anderson, at seventeen; Sophie at twelve; and Rico, who was a year apart from Sophie at eleven. They were all very playful. Each looked very different, but all sported the same dark hair and dark eyes.

The beach house was owned by the Richard's whole family, their extensive relatives coming to view. The sole title holder of the house was Mr. Richard's sister, who was traveling and too busy most of the time to just enjoy her days around the beach. She gave Mr. Richard and her family days to spend on the house, allowing them to invite whoever they chose. During the days that no one wanted to stay around, strangers could rent the house for a few days and enjoy its charms.

The beach house had four bedrooms, each one large enough to be able to comfortably accommodate a family. Mr. and Mrs. Richard would invite us the Swaynes, and the Connors. We'd spend our summers together.

   The Connors was a gem. They seemed to be the ideal family- close, physically active, and always down for some fun. Mr. Connor was a big man. He was powerfully wealthy, intelligent, and had kind eyes. He was the sort of man everyone respected. Mrs. Connor was as equally kind, but we all knew that she would readily stand up against anyone for the sake of her family. They had two daughters and a son. Jessica at twenty-two, Denise who was my age at sixteen, and Pace at eighteen. They all seemed worldly to me, I always felt like my life was boring and dull when they talked about theirs.

   I was recently a junior in high school exploring the worlds of calculus, science, and even the social hierarchy, to real life was only a small extent of possible boundaries . They always seemed to be traveling the world and exploring, enjoying. Already doing what I felt only possible in my life like ten years from today.

   My family was as far stretched off from one another as possible. You could go as far as to say that at times we hated each other. I think that the only thing that kept us together was my dad's constant need to keep everything right. My mother was a know it all, and everyone knew it- and it only seemed a fair play on words.

   My older sister, Paige, eighteen, was the type of girl who everyone adored. She was not too pretty, but her face was unique enough to be special. She was smart, so much that it felt like it bordered on genius. Then there was me, and came after Sally, thirteen, who always seemed to be as plain as a peach. She didn't seem to care about anything too much, she lived her life carefree.

   This was our summer. The people, they made it up. And every year, I looked forward to it. On the last days of school in New York I looked forward to our airplane rides to California, where I knew everything was on its way to going back to being simple.

  It felt the same as always when I arrived through the opening doors, the cherry oaken furniture which blended with the houses's murals so cozily, the chandelier, which hung grandly yet didn't interrupt the beach houses's homey and summery feeling, and of course the people that greeted us.

   Everyone was the same, but a year older. There was a year spent differently. It was funny how the changes were so small, yet very there when we look back and reminisce on our first trip ever.