Sincerely Emmy

Note 01

Note 01
Dear Emmy,

Do you know why mom and dad named you Emmet? They thought that you were going to be a boy.

I guess the name just grew on them. It suits you, even though I know it might not be your favourite.

-L

。。。

I hear my door creak open, and I suddenly shove the note into my nightstand. At the door is my mom, peeking her head through the door.

"Hey Lesley." She opens the door wide enough to enter and sits down beside me on my bed.

"Hey." I say back.

"So... Your father and I figured it might be best if you and your brothers stayed away from home for a bit. While we get things... Figured out. You and Jackson will be staying at the Porter's... Jackson gets along with Dakota's brother, right?"

"Yeah, I mean, I guess." I say. "And Zach is probably going to be staying at his girlfriend's?"

"Yeah."

A long moment of silence passes and the only thing to be heard is the breathing from my mother and I. "I'm sorry Lesly. I know this is hard on you, on us all. It's been tough these past few days."

"I know. It's not your fault... None of us should be placing blame."

I hear a sigh from my mom, and after hearing no reply, I speak again. "So, when do we leave?"

"Tomorrow."

Another long moment of silence passes, as we both stare out my bay window.

"Hey mom?"

"Yeah honey?"

"Does that mean I'm going to a new school?"

"I-I never thought that far ahead. Most likely yes. I still have to talk to your father about things."

"Alright. I'll get to...packing."

。。。

The drive to the porter's was long.

I didn't really know how Jackson felt about the whole situation. Getting uplifted from your whole school system and friends had to be hard for a 14 year old kid, right?

But I couldn't figure him out half the times anyways.

I sat in the back of the van, taking up little to no space out of the 3 seats. Jackson is sitting the next row up, leaning his head on his resting arm, listening to something. Music, I presume.

He hasn't really spoken anytime other than at the dinner table. But even then, he was still pretty distant.

The drive was mostly silent. Only a few words from my mom wondering how we were doing. 7 hours in a vehicle has got to make you go a bit crazy, so I'm surprised she wasn't asking herself that question.

We pull up in the Porter's driveway at about 11 o' clock in the night. It isn't as dark out as it would usually be back home, but it's dark enough to want to collapse on a big comfy bed and sleep for hours.