Chapter One

I have visited my mom's parent a total of twelve times in my whole life. We would go every year on my grandma's birthday and do the same touristy things every time. We would drive to the beach and bring too much stuff when we did, we would go to Disney World and ride the teacups, and of course, go to Key West and take pictures at the mile marker. When I turned thirteen I decided I was too old to spend a week in the hot zone so I found a summer camp for teens that I would go to instead. The condition for this trade was that on her actual birthday I had to call and tell her ten things I have learned in school that year. I abided by that because the counselors at the camp were awful at paying attention to the kids so I got to have a lot of fun behind their backs.

I am currently waiting at an airport in Tampa for my grandparents to come to pick me up. They have a history of being late so I expected this and came prepared with plenty of games to play on my phone. The therapist I saw in Maryland told me she knew the one that I will see down here and that she is a nice lady so not to worry. That is something that everyone tends to say to me now. "Don't worry" as if me having frown lines is more important than me being a maybe orphan. When the accident first happened I was lucky, all the doctors said it was a miracle. It was a miracle that I could lose my mom at seventeen, it was a miracle that I happened to be sitting in the backseat, It was a miracle that I was able to ID the drunk driver after he picked himself up and drove away with his partially intact truck.

I have never felt so unlucky in all my life. I keep mindlessly tapping on my phone until I feel a tap on my shoulder.

"Mason?" a female voice says next to me, I look up to see my grandma wearing the safe outfit of jean capris a soft colored, baby blue, blouse with and elbow length sleeves, and tiny little birds patterned all over it. She smiles when our eyes meet.

"How are you honey?" my grandma says looking at my scratches and bandages.

"I hear that I am lucky," I say bending down to pick up my bags. Since my stay is indefinite I backed quite a few bags in case I have to stay well into August. "I think they are saying that to make me feel better." She starts picking up my last remaining bag and throws it over her shoulder.

"Well, if you don't want to feel better just yet that's fine by me. You take your time and feel as miserable as you need to" she starts to head for the exit "I don't see the point in rushing you through the healing process"

"Wheres Grandpa?" I ask looking around as we walk.

"He stayed behind to make sure your room is ready, He is trying to figure out how to set up the router and the TV." she adjusts the bag "We wanted to make sure you weren't bored and sad"

When the news broke that I would have to move down here for the summer I was not surprised. My mom was already talking to counselors and my therapist about how it might be good for me to spend time away from her. They would use the words coddle and co-dependent a lot when they discussed and it would end with my mom getting offended and leaving in a huff. My mom thought that she was right in how she raised me. She hated second opinions and would diagnose me herself and tell the doctor what medicine they needed to give me. If they disagreed with her then she would instigate a screaming match. She only trusted her mom's opinion and grandma Enid always gave it to her.

"Are you hungry?" She asks opening the back of her Subaru to put my bags in "We can go to Cracker Barrel or Olive Garden"

"No, I ate on the plane," I say throwing the bags and moving to get in the backseat.

"You know, you can sit up in the front seat with me, it would be easier for us to chat on the long drive there" I hesitate with my hand on the door handle.

"I just would feel more comfortable in the backseat." all of a sudden I feel very shy and bashful as if someone caught me singing a song. She sighs and walks around to get into the driver's seat. I have both hands on each of the door handles trying to find the courage to open the front door. I feel the anxiety creeping up in me and panic. I get into the backseat and buckle up. I look up to see her watching me from the rear view mirror. She starts to back up and begins the three-hour drive to my new home.