Violetta (Violet) Jackson has big dreams. None of which happen to include sitting in detention for a week straight for a lab disaster that wasn't even her fault. That's all thanks to Will Hawthorne, his friends (one of whom she unfortunately used to...
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Elton John's Honky Chateau blasted from my record player as I tucked a pair of pants neatly into the corner of my suitcase. It was full to bursting already, my clothes taking up the majority of the space available. I tackled the various chargers of my electronics next, stuffing them much more unceremoniously into the left-hand wedge that was slightly less bulging than the other side.
As I looked out of my open window, taking a small break from the wrestling match that packing was proving to be, Oak Point's late August colors greeted my eyes. Summer was still holding out for as long as possible, the trees still green and defiantly vibrant, but some leaves had already started to fall, covering the pavement below. The breeze that blew in was thankfully cooler than it had been the last couple of months, and I let it brush my skin pleasantly before forcing myself to get up again, heading over to my bedside drawer to see if there was anything else I needed to pack. Elton John's voice still sang to me from my record player, an all-too-recognizable tune:
She packed my bags last night pre-flight
Zero hour 9:00 a.m.
And I'm gonna be high
As a kite by then
I miss the Earth so much I miss my wife
It's lonely out in space
On such a timeless flight
I smiled as I thought of Will and his future degree. He really will be a rocket man, I mused as I leaned over and reached for something lying on top of my bedside table.
"Violet? Are you all set?" Evelyn's voice came from the kitchen.
My fingers closed around the Polaroid picture, lifting it and bringing it closer to me. Everything about it was familiar to me now: the dark brown hair that fell in the girl's face as she leaned down and plucked the guitar string that the boy was holding, lying there on a somewhat scuffed-up couch, him staring up into her eyes. My parents; forever encased in an untroubled, quiet moment. I brushed my thumb over the picture as I carefully put it in my back pocket. "Yeah," I called back. "I'm all set."
The drive to the airport meant another three-hour stint to Portland, but at least this time, it wasn't as ridden with heightening anxiety the closer we got to the destination, and even as we pulled into the massive airport short-term parking lot, I don't feel the same tightening in my chest, the same dizziness in my head. Even as I dragged my brand-new suitcase (I've never really traveled much at all before, considering how expensive it was; and I never had much of a good reason to leave Oak Point) around Portland International Airport, the only thing I felt was the butterflies in my stomach fluttering around excitedly, my heart beating loudly in my chest as I spotted Will up ahead.
He wore a red-and-black jacket, courtesy of MIT, and a square black suitcase rested by his side, one hand on the handle as he leaned against it. Evelyn had offered to drive him to the airport, but Will politely declined, saying that his dad and stepmom had insisted on taking him, which, I supposed, was fair enough, considering that he wouldn't see them until the Thanksgiving break in November.
