Spark

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Emmett

Packing Day at the Dawson house is like the Macy's on West 34th Street during Black Friday shopping. There's so much panic and disarray, my brain always about to explode from the millions of things going on in our midsize two story house. I love it though. It makes the start of the summer seem real.

The first person I see when I walk through the door is Amanda Dawson- second grade teacher, advanced sculptor, terrible cook (don't tell her I said that), and a pretty great mom. She hauls box upon box of clay, knives, smocks, paint, glazes, and her last piece of art equipment -of course-her 500-pound kiln. I walk in when she is trying to move the kiln. I try to escape the torture I'm bound to face and race toward the stairwell, but good old Mandy spotted me.

"Emmett, dear, would you mind helping me get this kiln out to the truck. I am only a frail woman." She smirks deviously.

"How do I let you get me every year?" I chuckle as I pull the dolly that the kiln is resting on out to the huge truck that we rented.

Once I loaded the kiln onto the truck, I head back into the house. My ears almost explode from the shriek that projected from my five-year old sister, Suzy.

"Give it back right now Donny!" she whines as my thirteen-year old brother runs away from her with her stuffed unicorn in hand. I pluck it off of Donovan and hand it to Suzy. I proceed to my bedroom almost uninterrupted. My dad stops me in front of my door.

"How'd the game go, Emmet?" he asks.

This was the question I had been avoiding.

"It was alright. The girls won by one point."

"Zia beat you? You let a bunch of girls pound you?"

"Hey! It was a close game!"

"All I have to say is good luck. You know, with the little girls beating you up."

Shaking my head, I walk into my room and shut the door. I have most of my packing done, but I have some stuff that still needs packed. My clothes and what my mom considers to be essentials are already in the truck. I get a mesh bag and fill it with what I consider to be essentials: my sports stuff. That includes a football, a soccer ball, a basketball, baseballs, tennis balls, a tennis racket, and more. My phone buzzes, and I see a text from Zia.

My little sisters just offered to help you in soccer. ;) I shake my head.

Haha very funny. I reply.

What's my relationship with Zia? What can I say? She's one of my best friends. We've known each other longer than I can remember. She's smart, funny, athletic, kind, pretty-

"Emmett, have you seen my baseball glove?" Donovan's standing in my doorway.

"It's in the backyard. We were practicing. Remember?"

"Oh, right." He turns to leave but then looks back. "What were you thinking about when I walked in?"

"What do you mean?" I say.

"When I walked in you were staring off into space and grinning like a clown on drugs."

"I was just thinking about, um, you know, what else I need to pack." I stutter.

"Yeah right." Donovan rolls his eyes and walks out.

I go back to packing and try to forget the thing that I was really thinking about.