Barefoot

~1~

I want to get out of America. Or at least Tennessee. I have never been out of the state, let alone the country.

That's what I thought about in one of my sleepless nights. Yeah. That would be amazing. Nothing but a backpack filled with food, a blanket, an umbrella and some money. I want to see the world.

My mom and I never traveled much, since dad left and we don't have enough money.

***

"But you're only 16! You can't just quit school for traveling! And I'm going to be all alone!" Noel screams in that high pitch voice. It hurts my ears when she does that.

"Calm down! It would probably be for a year or so. I'd be back in time for graduation" I tell her.

"So you think you can catch up one year of information within less than a week? You're gonna a to repeat the year!" Pain in my ears again.

"Okay okay. Chill. It's not up to you anyway." I say annoyed and walk off to my chorus class.

Noel can be so annoying sometimes. But she's my best friend. And besides, I would be mad too if she left me.

Chorus was just like every other class. 42 minutes of staring at the clock. 3 minutes of actually paying attention to the teacher.

***

When I get home I throw my bag on the floor and go into the kitchen, where mom is drinking coffee out of her french mug that has all these sayings like: "C'est la vie", "Oh la la", and "Salut!" on it, while she's humming to "Sweet Home Alabama".

"Hey mom" I say as I walk into the kitchen.

"Oh hey honey, how was your day?"

"Well the usual." Mom nods.

"Um I have a question." Mom turns around and looks at me with big eyes. She always gets big eyes when someone asks her a question.

"If I asked you weather I could skip a year of school to go travel and see America, what would you say?"

Silence.

"You have no idea about life do you? It's not just a game. High school is important. No way you're missing junior year!" Then she got up, put her mug in the dishwasher, and went upstairs.

That's when I realized that there was no way I could leave America. It's already too expensive to leave Tennessee. Why would mom book me a flight. She couldn't.

And that's when it crossed my mind.

He never responded to any of my letters. But what if I tried calling him? Moms phone was laying on the table. I took it and looked through her contacts.

P...

Q...

R.

Renee...

Rick Peters! She actually has his number! I didn't think they were still in contact. But whatever. I have his number now, and maybe he will pay for my flight!

The only thing that's left to do is find a destination.

I go on my computer and search for "best travel destinations Europe"

I go on Yahoo questions and find a list plus description by Marie.butterfly234.

She has all these categories listed: for families, for couples, for seniors, and for single travelers. That's what I need.

Single Travelers:

I recommend Germany. Lots of things to see, great food. It's not a relaxing vacation, it's more getting to know different cultures.

That's it. Germany. It's not tropical or a beach or anything, but that's what I was kind of going for. I want to get to know more of the world, and I sure know what a beach looks like.

***

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Be-

"Who's there?" A low, mean sounding voice says out of the speakers.

"Uh.. Um this is Callie... I mean Caroline!" When I pressed "call" I didn't realize that this would be the first time, after 12 years, I'd be talking to my dad.

"Caroline... Are you-"

"Yes I am" I fall into his sentence. Now I feel guilty. I shake the guilt of and say: "Hi um ... Dad?" I didn't know what to call him. Rick or Dad. Either one would have been weird. But dad was right.

"How- how are you?" He obviously is trying to deal with it, as I can hear in his voice.

"I'm good, or not. Honestly it's very awkward.... Dad. I'm just ... I'm just gonna go. Bye!" I stutter.

"WAIT!" He yells. That scared the crap out of me. Gosh.

"Yeah?" I ask quietly.

"Let's talk a little. How is school going?" Typical parents talk.

The conversation was extremely awkward. We talked for about 5 minutes, until I finally got to my point.

"Dad, this might sound extremely rude, but would you be willing to book me a flight to Germany?"

Silence.

"I would go for maybe a year, or just half a year. I would miss most of junior year, but I dont mind and-" This time he's the one to cut me off.

"Listen. First of all, I'm not the one to decide, and I'm pretty sure your mother won't let you. So I'm sorry, but no."

That was pretty much our conversation. It didn't feel right to argue with him, after talking for 5 minutes. In 12 years.

After that I went back to my room. That really was a stupid action. Why would he spend over $700 on me, if we hadn't talked in twelve years. I lay back and stare at the lamp on my ceiling.

I sigh. Stupid me. My dad must think Im a freak.

Then my mom comes in and holds up her phone.

"I just got a phone call from Rick. Do you have anything to do with this or no?" She says in that ironic tone parents get when they're mad, not the yelling mad, the mad. If that makes sense.

"Well... Uh.. I called him." I stutter.

"So you really think your dear father is going to pay for your flight? After not talking to you for twelve fucking years?!" Now it's yelling mad. She never curses, just when she's in the yelling-mad mood.

Then her phone rang again. Rick Peters.