"Twenty more miles, peeps," Mom says from the driver seat as another sign whirs by the car. I lift my head up and flip around in my seat, trying to get a glimpse of Dillon in the back seat. I laugh quietly.
His head is hanging backwards and his mouth is open wide enough to fit in a grapefruit. Well, roughly.
I roll my eyes at him and turn back in my seat to face the road before us. Sagebrush and dead grass fills the scenery all around, making it easy to roll your head back and pass out like my brother. I honestly consider it, but knowing we're getting pretty close now, I think it's better to simply stay awake.
*
I crack open my eyes when I hear the tires of our Dodge grind into rough gravel.
Guess I did fall asleep.
I stretch my back and look over at my mom. "Wakey, wakey, hon," she smiles at me and I shift back into the seat, not wanting to have to unpack all our bags. "Dillon's still out like a light, so we'll give him a minute or two more."
I nod sleepily and try to keep my eyes open. I rub them with my hands and look around.
Mom pulls the car up and parks it, bringing it to a sharp halt. "Hop out, babe," she tells me as she climbs out of her seat. I silently obey, popping the door open and swinging my legs out.
I hear the high-pitched 'beep beep beep' of the automatic trunk opening and grab out my few boxes we managed to shove into the back. I hear the moving truck pull up on the black gravel behind us and I instinctively move to the other side of our car to let it pull up by us.
"Hey, we're just going to start with the big stuff," the man inside the moving truck rolls his window down to speak to Mom. I look at his nametag and it says Doug.
Mom nods to him and slaps Dillon's car window to wake him up. He jumps and blinks before narrowing his eyes at my mom.
"Get up fatso," I tell him from outside. He replies with a muffled 'fine' and opens up his door.
I duck my head back under the trunk and stack another box on the pile in my arms. "I'd appreciate the help, Dillon." He shoots me a look, his dark brown eyes tired.
"I bet you would."
I roll my eyes again at him; something I do quite often with things relating to my brother. I set my chin up on the top box and squint into the sun, looking up at our new home.
"Oh my," I whisper, balancing my pile of boxes with one arm and shading my eyes to get a good look. The house is massive and looks like it could blow over if someone sneezes too close to it. "You have got to be kidding me."
"Welcome home, my children," Mom says in a voice as if she had walked out of The Adams Family or Dracula. I let out a breath, blinking again in the bright light of the early afternoon.
Dillon walks over to me, his tall figure casting a shadow on the ground next to me.
I shake my head at the world before cautiously starting the walk up to our new house.
*
"Holy crap, this place looks like it'll fall over." Dillon kicks open a creaky door and peeks into a room.
"There has to be at least like four levels, right Mom? I mean, look at the stairs." I crane my neck and peer up the huge spiral staircase, cobwebs hanging off each corner.
"I've been putting money away for a long time to do this, guys. And yes, it's a bit of a fixer-upper but try to see its potential!" Mom spins around, her arms out wide.
