After finally turning eighteen, Aspen, and her best friend Margot, follow their dreams and travel to France. Leaving behind the only home they ever knew was difficult, but embarking on a new journey sounds too tempting.
Meeting some long-lost relat...
Philip, the man who picked us up, has been driving for over thirty minutes now. Seeing the SUV break off from the usual roads and drive down a narrow path filled with trees has only increased my anxiety about the whole thing. However, Margot surprisingly seems calm, almost at peace. She sends me a reassuring look every few minutes; that's what is keeping me calm. As long as the man does not drive us into a tree or throws us to the wolves- I'd personally like never to encounter any of those situations.
"Carmen is going to give you both a tour once we arrive. Elijah says I will be driving you both back after dinner." Philip says as we take yet another sharp turn. A dull headache forms in the back of my head from his crazed driving.
"Thanks, Philip," Margot replies, grinning.
The trees begin to clear out again, and I feel a small shift in the air. It's almost like when you walk into a movie theatre during the day, and you leave when it is dark outside. An eery feeling, which causes me to rub my eyes and blink a few times.
A large town comes into view, with small roads, both cobblestone and cement, and log cabins of all shapes and sizes scattered around. The entire place is surrounded by forest, but the land itself is quite flat. We pass a few people while driving on the road, more like families, who walk together with grins across their faces. Although it is light outside, poles with lanterns are littered all across the pathway. Every home is flooded with different flowers and fruit trees in its front yard.
Finally, Philip breaks off from the main road, and we follow down a more private area, slightly distanced from the rest of the houses. Glancing over to Margot, I see her nervously bouncing her leg in her seat.
A home, almost mansion-like, comes into view. Large windows are scattered all around, and it had a country charm, with a wrap-around oak porch. The house itself was entirely made of wooden logs, which only added to its authenticity. Rose bushes were scattered around the walkway, leading to the front door. Standing on the porch was a petite woman who must have barely been five feet tall. She wore black pants with a yellow and green patterned shawl. Her brown curly hair was pulled back into a ponytail. The woman's neck was littered with necklaces, all of different colors, shapes, and sizes. Bracelets and rings were placed so chaotically on her arms that it just made sense.
Meeting new people is always something that stresses me out. Of course, when I'm at work, I can go into a 'customer service' mode. But when I, Aspen, meet new people, it's sometimes a struggle. You see, I have a crippling issue where I feel like everyone is judging me, and will not like me when I meet them. Subconsciously, I look down at my outfit, which I once liked, and begin criticizing my choice. The baby pink color is probably washing out my pale skin, and my shoes are dirty. Margot's Aunt is going to think I came fresh from off the streets. I can hear it already. Margot and her crazy friend are staying for dinner... Margot's zombie-like friend is here, be welcoming! Margot's here, and her friend that we just can't get rid of.
