Jukebox ✬ Jasper Hale

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     For my entire life, I lived by the coast where it was foggy and cold, with the occasional sunny break. I had heard stories of the rain and pure gray ceiling up north in Washington, and when I moved to Olympia, its capital, they were more than stories.

     I thought I could grow to like this bustling city, but the constant dreariness of the weather made the once fun and exciting rain dismal and boring. 3 months into the move, my mother decided it would be a good idea to take a road trip up to Ozette Lake, a remote part of the Olympic National Park, for a little summer camping.

     Apparently, the lake water was clearer and bluer than the skies down in places like Arizona and Texas, and the Ozette Loop was "a breathtaking and exciting boardwalk trail." I shrugged during the initial proposal. Maybe a change of scenery from this crowded city could brighten up my time in Washington until I graduated from high school and moved back to California.

     Before I knew it, it was time to pack some serious luggage into the car before driving a grueling 4 hours. The majority of the trip was going to be spent going west and then up the coast, but a good quarter was just for navigating through the anxiety-inducing, but beautiful, cliff paths.

     "You ready, Delilah? It's time to go," Mom called, her voice quickly overpowering my thoughts.

     "Yup. Is it okay if-"

     "Yes, yes, yes. I already knew you were going to ask," she smiled warmly at me and winked mischievously.

     I hesitated as I climbed into the passenger seat,"Are you sure?"

     "I have the good old radio to keep me company." The worn down stereo received a good pat in an effort to reassure me.

     "Okay. Thanks, Mom." I sighed, relieved, before putting in my earbuds and taking out my notebook, beginning to write passionately to the flowing music without another word.

     Eventually, I got bored, put down my work, and read the passing signs as we drove through towns alongside the restless ocean. Neilton, Queets, Clearwater, Oil City, Forks. I wondered how people could live in such a small town for their entire lives, where everybody knew everybody. If you screwed up, you screwed up your life, your reputation, your social acceptance, and your status.

     "Delilah, we're going to find a place to eat here all right? The road to Ozette Lake branches from the main road here in Forks, and that's another hour of driving ahead."

      I mumbled a weak,"Okay," given that I didn't really care if we did or not. She rolled her eyes at my typical carelessness, and laughed under her breath.

     "Come on, honey. I found a cute little diner that I'm sure has what you want," she bit her lip, mouth upturned, as if she had a secret I didn't know.

     "Mom, you're such a tease," I groaned, though I eagerly got out of the car and into the diner afterwards. It was quaint, to say the least. We were seated at the corner table by the window, where we could see the many patrons chattering and laughing at other tables and at the counter.

     "Hi, I'm Cora. Can I get you ladies something to drink?" A waitress approached us, friendly and relaxed.

     "A cup of coffee would be great. Delilah, what do you want?"

     "Milk, please," I said quietly, slightly embarrassed. I was always self-conscious of my height, and while I wasn't short, I wasn't the tallest girl in the room either.

     "I'll be back with your drinks soon," Cora replied as she wrote down our orders on a well-worn notepad.

     After bringing the milk and coffee, she asked, curious," Are you two moving into Forks? I never forget a face, and I know I've never seen you around before."