Love Bites

Chapter I

"Dad, stop seriously." I groaned, sinking further into the passenger seat, wishing the faded fabric of the old pickup would swallow me whole.

"What, too cool to talk to your old man now?" He chuckled, turning away from the street ahead to wriggle his brows at me. I roll my eyes and motion for him to keep his on the road. The trees are a blur of brown and green as we speed past. Looking out, I don't see any familiar landmarks—I haven't in a while.

"Do you even know where we're going old man?" I asked, rummaging through the glove compartment for the GPS. The truck, for all its rustic charm, was decidedly lacking in modern conveniences—a built in GPS being one of them.

"Short cut. Don't change the subject Mina," he replied, catching on to my now futile attempt to fend off his curiosity.

I sighed, "It's girl stuff Dad, not something you're interested in, trust me."

"This is our time together, anything's fair game." He began sincerely, "Besides I know you don't really feel comfortable talking to Annie yet."

"She's great Dad—" I started, before he cut me off.

"I know, I know, you're happy that I'm happy. If you've said it once you've said it a thousand times sweetheart," this time it's his turn to sigh.

And that was true, I was happy that he'd found someone—especially like Annie, she was kind, patient, everything anyone could ask for. But she wasn't my mom, and she was never going to be. Though I couldn't really fault Annie for that, no one could come close to my mother; not even me.

People were always shocked after meeting my mother and I, we couldn't have been more different. I'd inherited my father's deep brown eyes, dark hair, and tendency to disappear in a crowd. A stark contrast to my mother's sunny disposition and bright blonde hair. When the sound of her laughter disappeared, so did the warmth that made our house a home. A stony silence settled over us in its place.

I hadn't visited mom's grave since the funeral. It didn't feel right—or real. She was planning a trip to Greece with my aunt Sadie. I remembered helping her pack. Nestled in between sun dresses and sandals were the kind of romance books Dad would have made fun of us for reading. He used to tease her in between cups of coffee and his morning paper, "What do you even get out of reading that useless drivel?"

She'd look up from her book mildly perturbed and reply, "Joy."

"Don't be like your mom Mina, keep up with the news or read history books. Don't turn your brain to mush," he'd say gruffly, before winking at me and burying the smile ghosting his lips in his paper. I'd giggle and mom would stick her tongue out at him when she thought he wasn't looking.

How did things turn out this way? Mom and aunt Sadie went on at least one vacation together every year. When I was little, I used to cry, begging her not to go. She'd hug me and tell me she'd be back before I knew it. That's how Taylor and I became friends. She had just moved to the neighborhood when she found me teary-eyed and lonely on the playground, and made it her mission to make me smile again. She taught me how to make flower crowns and we spent the rest of the summer chasing fairies and having tea parties in our handmade adornments. Taylor and I were as thick as thieves and latched onto each other like the sisters we never had. We got pimples and braces together, color coordinating our rubber bands with each other.

It was Taylor that suggested we join the cheerleading team come high school. I was sprawled across the bed in her candy floss pink room, reading the latest installment of our favorite book series as she straightened her curly blonde hair within an inch of its life using the flat iron she stole from her mom.

"I think we should try out for the cheer team next year," she declared abruptly. I looked up to find her blue-green eyes boring into mine from her vanity mirror.