Center of Gravity

Road Trip

"What?!?"

I was standing there slack-jawed at awe, staring at my parents who had the audacity to even think of making out in front of me. Granted, it was their "second" wedding, if you could even call it that, but they're still my parents. A little warning would have been nice. 

The walls around me were cream colored and the eighties pop music had been muted out not only from the crowd's roar of tipsy aunts and wasted uncles, but from my utter confusion on how my parents could do this to me.

I mean it's my last summer with them and they decided to leave for three months on a honeymoon cruise to god knows where?

My mom looked at my dad worryingly, hesitating before she spoke. 

"Honey, I understand you're surprised, but your dad and I need to celebrate and reinvent ourselves", she explained.

"Yea Bellie, you graduated already, you have the house to yourself!" my dad exclaimed. "Go pack all your stuff and we will meet you a few weeks after you start college."

My parents recently had gotten back together after a two year break. You would think it would be traumatizing to have your parents break up, but they never actually get a divorce, they just split. It's actually more scarring to see them making lovey-dovey eyes at each other. 

Anyways, after my graduation they realized they were the only ones for each other and ended up renewing their vows two weeks later.

I know, even me, the heartless human being, gets a little teary at their cliche romance.

Living in the dead center of Manhattan, you would think we were loaded, nope being loaded is an understatement. The next three generations wouldn't have work a single day and they would still be rich. I'm very grateful that I am fortunate enough to be blessed, but my parents always taught me to work on my own and I strongly believe in that. Back to my problem, I only have three months before my real life starts and parents are ripping it away from me!

"You will be fine without us, Bella," my mom replied with her Italian accent, snapping me out of my trance. The two of them slowly walked away, muttering about something they have to do, something I'd rather not think about.

_______________________

"Please, Come on, I need this!" Marcella exclaimed, or otherwise know as Marcie, the bane of my existence and my best friend.

"I don't want to," I replied, looking bored as she continued to annoy me with her whining. 

Marcie was trying to encourage me to go with her to meet her boyfriend, who lives in Florida. Now realize that she's never met him  and the only communication they had was through FaceTime and texts. 

Could you really blame me for being a little paranoid?

"Dude! I need this, come on,"  she pleaded, sounding really desperate, but I didn't want to be the third wheel of their relationship.

"I know you need this, so that's why you should go. I'm just going be the third wheel for a week. I could be doing a lot of other things."

"Fine," she replied, giving in.

"Wait, really?" I asked, perplexed at how easy it was for her to give in. For all the years I knew Marcie, I knew this was not normal for her. I knew there was something else planned.

As she exited my bedroom door, I pondered the question of what she could be planning.

A couple of minutes later my mom entered, she started sifting through my closet. This was a daily occurrence for me. Some would think I would be confused by this, but my mom and I had the same size, but we also had very different styles. She always tried to get me towards colorful things and more fashionable things, but all I have now is two separate sections, one for all my clothes, and the second one for all the clothes my mom will take.

"Isn't this so pretty!" my mom exclaimed, snapping me out of my thoughts. In her hand was a floral mini dress, with a flowy skirt, and almost no back. Not really caring, I told her it would look great.

"Bella," my mom started, pronouncing it as 'beyya' (because of her sort of - not really Italian ways), "I know you are upset that we are not spending the summer together, but you will have fun with your friends, and you will get your taste of independence." 

I still didn't understand it though. It's my last summer before college and while they sail the seven freaking seas, I will be at this house, empty, alone, and boring myself with packing.

Two and half months, then you will be at school again, stop pitying yourself and get a life Bell, my inner demon retorted.

"Enjoy yourself beyya, you will have fun this summer, we will see you in the fall. That's not too long," she said as she walked away with the floral dress. 

I suppose it wouldn't be that bad, but Marcie would probably leave me to meet that cyber, potentially, serial killer boyfriend of hers.

A few hours later, both my mom and dad were packed and ready to go. I said bye, nothing too tearful, and then they drove off.

As I walked back inside, laying on my bed, I thought what I could do all summer. I mean I could hang out with Drew, but ever since the "incident" it's been really awkward for us. All these thoughts were roaming my head as I realized my perfect summer was slowly coming to an end without even beginning. My eyelids grew heavier and soon I gave into the dark comfort of sleep.

___________________

"Wake up Sleeping Beauty and get your lazy ass off the bed, I've got some news!" Marcie's voice screeched, pulling me out of my peaceful pity slumber. I looked at the clock with eyes glazing over the numbers 3:12 a.m. I slowly got out my bed in menacingly way. 

"Why. Am. I. Awake. Right. Now?" I said slowly, quietly dragging out each word. I was so quiet she might had not heard me, but due to the silence of it being way too early in the morning, I know she heard every word.

Marcie chuckled nervously. "Okay, I get that you are very mad right now, but hear me out." 

Slowly backing away from me and the bed, Marcie continued, "Do you remember this?" 

Pulling out a very colorful crumpled up piece of paper, I racked through my brain trying to remember.  My mind was being slow considering I was woken up in the early morning.

"The post-high school list!" I exclaimed, remembering the familiar piece of paper. "What does it say?"

"Road Trip." 

Two words that's all she said.

Road trip.