First Love

Chapter One

Car Rides Suck

Do you want to know what always sucks?

Long car rides. (10 hours.)

Want to know what makes them suck more?

If you are on that long car ride because your family is moving away from where they have been your whole life.

Where are we moving?

Somewhere in Vermont.

Why?

Because my dad is opening his own restaurant there.

Why there?

The tourists that go there during ski season in the winter and hiking season in the summer.

Didn't your old home have tourists?

Maryland isn't a very touristy area so I would say no.

Who is asking all these questions?

I don't even fucking know.

Wait new question...

What would make this drive even worse?

Being squished in the backseat between your brother's and sister's carseats.

Before this story continues let me introduce myself.

Hi. I'm Lilly Quinn. I'm thirteen years old and I'm going into the eighth grade.

My dad is Kevin Quinn. He is thirty two years old and soon to be a restaurant owner. He has always wanted to live in Vermont and now his dream is coming true.

My mom is Liz Quinn. She is thirty three and an artist.

My sister is Sky Quinn. She is three years old and pretty smart for her age.

My brother is Oliver Quinn. He is six years old and sometimes as annoying as hell and sometimes the most precious, lovable six year old boy you have ever met. Depends really.

My family all look alike for the most part. We look like a family.

My dad has extremely dark, dark, dark, almost black hair with blue eyes.

My mom has medium brown hair with green eyes.

I look like my dad with his dark hair and blue eyes.

My sister looks like my mom with medium brown hair but has blue eyes.

And my brother has my dads black hair with my mother's green eyes. (No he isn't Harry Potter or Percy Jackson.)

"How much longer." My brother whines as he squirms in his car seat.

My mother looks at the GPS and says "Three hours and thirty nine minutes."

I groan as does Oliver.

Sky is content coloring in a my little pony coloring book.

She puts down her green crayon and picks up purple. Purple is her favorite color. Pink is mine.

I let my head hit my seat and my neck cracks.

I'm so hungry. I haven't had anything to eat since eight in the morning when we left. And even then it was only a very small, small bowl of cereal.

"Can we please eat soon?" I both question and whine.

"We should stop at the next food place." My mom tells my dad.

"Where is that?" My dad says.

My mom glances at a road sign before answering "Three miles I think."