Down by the Pier

In the beginning, there was nothing.

The drive was mostly silent. He didn't talk and neither did I. I honestly don't think he knew what to say. All I could hear was the faint static from the broken radio, a clicking noise every time my dad would put on his turn signals and the disturbing grunting noise my dad would make ever so often to drown out the silence.

He grunted for what felt like the tenth time.

"You should drink some tea," I spoke.

"Huh?"

"For your throat."

"Ah."

He placed his hand over the air vents, feeling the two in his vicinity. "Are you cold?"

I shook my head.

He retracted his hand and moved it back to the steering wheel. It was silent again.

I leaned closer to the window once the beach came into my view. The clear blue water seemed to be calling to me. The waves were calm, drifting slowly against the shore. I could feel the cool, calm blankets shifting across my hot skin. It felt like bliss. Sighing, I leaned back and almost giggled with excitement as I thought back to my plans for the summer. I had written down every single detail in my calendar; planning everything down to the smallest detail. I was going to make sure that this would be a summer to remember.

The house hadn't changed that much. Not that I thought that it would. My dad wasn't really big on decorating like my mom was. My mom used to always say that my dad was never very good with home decor. The house was charming. It's white shutters complimented the brown rooftop. The grass was freshly cut and the bushes growing on the side of the walkway were trimmed. I watched as my dad struggled with my suitcase. His lanky arms shook as he pulled it from the trunk, letting out a grunt that was a mixture between sadness and disappointment.

"Dad, do you want me to help?"

"No, sweetheart. I got it," he wheezed as he wobbled down the walkway and practically tripped up the three steps leading to the small porch. His shoulder shook as he dropped the suitcase from his hands and wrestled in his pocket for his keys. Before he could find them the door swung open and out stepped the beginning of the end for my summer plans.

He was tall, with broad shoulders, the sides of his head shaved leaving only a handful of hair in the middle and front of his head. His golden blonde hair was wet but pulled up into a small man-bun. He wore a white t-shirt and some swim shorts, with a bag slung over his shoulder. His brown eyes stared down at my dad before trailing over at me and then back at my dad. "Oh hey Mr. H. Let me help you with that bag." Before my dad could refuse, Golden-Haired Demi-God Man grabbed my suitcase with ease and brought it into the house.

Sighing my dad reached into his back pocket and pulled out his handkerchief, dabbing it at his forehead. "Thank-you Daniel."

"No problem," Demi-God Man shouted from inside the house before returning outside. "Are there more bags?"

My dad was already retreating to one of the chairs on the porch. His only answer was a meek nod of the head.

That was all the Demi-God Man needed. He rushed past me and towards the car, grabbing my two remaining bags and my easel as if he were merely picking up a pencil.

"Sista, Sista."

I turned around and nearly burst with excitement as my sister stood in the doorway. I rushed up the stairs and flew into her open arms. "Lea! I've missed you so much," I giggled.

"I've missed you too. I'm so glad you're here," she gushed.

I know everyone has someone that they look up to in life. Sometimes it's a celebrity, a teacher, or their parents. For me it was my older sister. She was everything I wanted to be when I got older. She was my polar opposite; confident, beautiful, and outgoing. I pulled away from her lavender scent and took her in. Her hair was shorter from the last time I saw her. It was jet black and cut an inch from her shoulder. Her caramel skin was free of any blemish and her lips were pulled into a smirk, as if she was one step ahead of everyone. "You cut your hair," I blurted.