Midnight rider

Part 2

I wake up in a good mood. That lasts about ten seconds. I remember that i'm moving,  and any happiness I would have had today goes out the window. I'm feeling very teen angsty, so I grab my phone and start listening to some Green Day. Do you know your enemy?  The lyrics float through my head. I know who my enemy is. My parents. Its such a rebel teen thing to think, but it's true. They're the ones who're ruining my life. Ugh. Never anticipated my angsty trains of though being so predictable. 

My dad opens the door to my room and sticks his head in. "Paige, you've got to get ready for school!" I totally forgot I had school today. 

"So I can say my goodbyes?" I mutter. My dad still hears me. I swear, he has supersonic ears or something. 

"Paige, you have to think of this move like a new beginning. You can still text and call your frends at the ranch."

"It's not the same," I whine. 

"Paige, you'll like it there. I promise. Plus, there's this lovely horse named midnight. Now get ready for school, you don't want to be late on your last day."

Ugh. My last day. Why did he have to say that? I do want to be late for my last day. Actually I don't want to go at all. But there's no postponing the inevitable, so  eventually I have to start getting ready. Since I've already decided to be emo today, I throw on a band tee shirt and some black jeans. Then I wash my face, brush my hair, and head downstairs. I don't feel like getting ready at all, but I force myself to, hoping that if I move quickly, the day will too, and this nightmare can be over faster. 

As I head down the stairs, I make a decision. I'll play, the sad, quietly crushed child. I won't allow myself to feel happy or say anything funny until my parents realize how much this is destroying me. And then they'll cancel the move. Deep down I know that this won't happen, but I try to keep a tiny sliver of hope alive. 

I come into the living room to see a bunch of cardboard boxes stacked against the wall. Some of our furniture and all the art that was on the wall is gone, and I lose any hope that I have. Seeing my furniture and my art all packed away and ready to be shipped off the country just solidifies the fact that I'm leaving. 

"Come on and eat, honey!" my mom calls from the kitchen. "I made waffles! Your favorite."

Waffles aren't my favorite, actually. I like french toast. But that's just another thing my parents don't really know about me. I sit down to eat, subtly deflecting all my parents attempts at conversation. But they don't take the hint. They just keep trying to engage me in some sort of positive conversation. Can't they see that I just don't feel happy?

"What are you looking forward to the most, Paige?" my dad asks as he drinks his La Croix. I've never been very into the idea of drinking carbonated water. He made try some of his La Croix once, and I thought it was disgusting. but I guess it makes him feel healthy to have a "no-sugar" carbonated drink with his breakfast every day, so I don't ever say anything about it. 

"Honestly, I'm not really looking forward to anything," I say, staring down and cutting my waffles. 

My mom's mouth turns down into a frown. I can see that I've hurt her feelings, but I'm trying hard not to care. "Now, Paige, I thought we were all going to have a positive attitude about this."

It's easy to have a positive attitude about something you want, I think. But I've already let my parents know how I feel. I need to be quiet. Subdued. So I hold my tongue. "Right," I say quietly. 

I finish my breakfast quickly, not wanting to spend any more time with my parents. "Ok, I'm going to leave for school now," I say, after washing my dishes and getting my backpack.  I'm about to step out the door when both my mom and dad come to see me off.