She stared at her old house, receding in the distance. The old farmhouse which had treated her so well. The house on top of the hill, with its mint curtains and plum shutters. She sighed and twisted.
“Dad, are we there yet?” she asked.
“Sweetie, we just left the house 5 minutes ago! Like I said, it’ll be an hour from Wingate to Davidson.”
She sighed again and put an Airpod in each ear. She listened to the playlist her best friend helped her create last year. The country music filled her ear. It reminded her of so much. Of her grandfather, tending to the cows. Of her grandmother’s freshly baked cookies.
Now, with both grandparents killed in a tragic car accident, her father, a former university professor at Wingate University, could no longer take care of the farm. So he sold it and transferred to Davidson University, a small liberal arts college in northern Mecklenburg County. She thought about them, and how much she missed them. Tears threatened to fill her eyes. She swallowed and choked back the weepy feelings.
Then she began to think about Kamaya, her best friend. How they built a tree fort in the 1st grade to keep out the boys. How they would go for long walks in the forest behind the farm. How they would pass notes in math. All the things they did together. All the laughs they shared. She lay down in the backseat of the truck to calm her head.
“We’re here!” her father exclaimed, almost too cheerily. She looked at the ugly concrete apartments. “We live in that top one over there! Look, we even have a lake view!” She just shook her head sadly, and with one last glance in the direction of Wingate, grabbed her suitcase and rolled towards her new life.
“Dad, are we there yet?” she asked.
“Sweetie, we just left the house 5 minutes ago! Like I said, it’ll be an hour from Wingate to Davidson.”
She sighed again and put an Airpod in each ear. She listened to the playlist her best friend helped her create last year. The country music filled her ear. It reminded her of so much. Of her grandfather, tending to the cows. Of her grandmother’s freshly baked cookies.
Now, with both grandparents killed in a tragic car accident, her father, a former university professor at Wingate University, could no longer take care of the farm. So he sold it and transferred to Davidson University, a small liberal arts college in northern Mecklenburg County. She thought about them, and how much she missed them. Tears threatened to fill her eyes. She swallowed and choked back the weepy feelings.
Then she began to think about Kamaya, her best friend. How they built a tree fort in the 1st grade to keep out the boys. How they would go for long walks in the forest behind the farm. How they would pass notes in math. All the things they did together. All the laughs they shared. She lay down in the backseat of the truck to calm her head.
“We’re here!” her father exclaimed, almost too cheerily. She looked at the ugly concrete apartments. “We live in that top one over there! Look, we even have a lake view!” She just shook her head sadly, and with one last glance in the direction of Wingate, grabbed her suitcase and rolled towards her new life.
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