What We Lost In The Winter

Chapter 2 (Part 1)

I sit at the kitchen table, waiting for Mom to come downstairs. My Uggs are already on my feet, even though it’s only November. It’s barely gotten cold here in Chicago. I look down at my green Iphone and check my Instagram. It’s a little bit pointless for me to even have the app. I have about ten followers, and I’m only following those ten. We’re the Homeschool-Crew: an elite group of elementary to middle school homeschooled kids. This club was started by my mother, so I was forced into it. I am positive that it’s just a waste of time. But it is where I see my only friends— Haley Merrik, Delaney Kent, and Jackie Kent.

“Becca-boo, are you ready?” Mom says as I look up from my phone. I cringe at the use of my “nickname”.

“Yep,” I sigh, throwing on my black North Face sweatshirt. I push myself off the wooden chair and crack my back.

“Lily, let’s go,” Mom gestures for my younger sister to follow her. The three of us march out into the garage. I pull myself into the front seat.

“Why doesn’t Alaina go to the Homeschool-Crew?” I ask, rather annoyed. The Crew is one of the worst parts of my day. It would be more fun if Mom could just drop Lily and I off at the park’s gazebo and let the whole group just run free. We don’t need her watching over us and making sure that we always are playing nice, happy, little-kid games. There have been numerous occasions in which she has forced us to play a two-hour-long game of duck-duck-goose.

“You know your sister,” is her only response.

“That’s not a good answer,” I mutter. I know what she means though, but still. It’s really not fair that Lily and I are forced into the Crew and Alaina isn’t because she’s nothing but a hermit crab.

“Becca, be smart. We both know that Alaina couldn’t do the Homeschool-Crew,” Mom sighs.

“I get it, she doesn’t have to do the Crew because she locks herself in her room and doesn’t even speak to her own family! If I just locked myself in my room and stopped talking to you, would I get to skip the Crew? No, I wouldn’t,” I snap, but instantly regret it. “Sorry,” I add.

“What’s wrong with the Crew?” Lily asks from the backseat.

“Nothing, it’s just boring,” I shrug.

“I like it,” she says. Of course she does. Lily’s only in fourth grade, or she would be if we went to school. I sigh, trying to end the conversation. We sit in silence for about ten seconds, and that’s when I realize that Mom didn’t try to continue this important talk about my hatred for the Crew. That’s a first. I have the type of mother that never likes to stop talking. You can ask her what her favorite color is, and she’ll give you a ten minute long spiel about how when she was two years old, she got a beautiful green necklace from her grandmother, and therefore, green is her favorite color.

Honestly, I don’t understand my family. My dad is never home, so I don’t really know him all that well. But there’s my mother, who doesn’t shut up, and her daughter, Alaina, doesn’t talk at all. I guess Lily takes after Mom, but I think that’s how most normal nine year-olds are. However, I think I must be most like Alaina, but I don’t really see how that’s even possible. I think I’m a lot different than Alaina, but when it comes down to it, I have social anxiety issues, and I don’t have a lot of friends. Neither of us enjoys talking to people.

“Let’s go,” Mom says, turning off the engine of our blue Subaru Outback. I push open the door and step down. Lily runs out of the car and over to the park’s gazebo. Mom briskly walks ahead of me, and I reluctantly follow behind. I know that I should enjoy the Crew, but I don’t. Haley and the twins are my only friends, and it’s a rare occurance for them all to show up. Like always, the Kingsers are the first to arrive. I take a seat on one of the benches and check my phone.