Don't Talk About Mickey

23 - Packing

The house was unsettlingly quiet as Carly threw a heap of her clothes into a large suitcase, uncaring of what she was going to wear for the next week. Beside the suitcase sat the printed receipt of the new plane tickets to Cabo. Glancing at it, she sighed. She felt like she should have been more excited that the family trip was happening much sooner than planned, but she wasn't.

After Carly had accompanied Sebastian to his house, where she waited patiently outside, they'd arrived back to an angry Eliza on the front porch. "We're leaving Texas as soon as possible," she had said before going on about getting Carly 'away from whatever is making her act so crazy.'

Now, a sleepless ten hours later, she was getting ready for an afternoon flight, and not sure if she was feeling the spontaneity of it all. The purpose of the trip was no longer to have a nice, relaxing time with family. It was now about Carly's recent bad behavior, which would've been completely justifiable had everyone known the situation she was in.

She went downstairs and into the kitchen, where Eliza was clicking away at her laptop, booking a last minute suite at Esperanza—the resort the Jenkins' stayed in every summer—preferably suite number 64. Sebastian was sitting next to her, glancing at the screen behind the cup of coffee he'd brought to his lips. He seemed to be the only one who was optimistic about the trip, in which he'd been invited along without Carly's knowledge.

"Nice of you to join us," Eliza said, not bothering to look up from the computer. "Did you sleep well?"

No. "Sure." She grabbed a coffee mug and poured herself just half a cup, drinking it straight. As disgusting as she thought it tasted, it still gave her a little bit of the boost she needed to make it through the flight, at least.

Ignoring this, Eliza took on a rapid pace of tapping before one last click, and then she lightly closed the laptop. "It looks like almost everything is settled. The flight. The room. The schedule. All we need is a better attitude from you, missy." She gave Carly a scolding look.

It took all of Carly's strength not to burst out with a smartass remark. Sebastian was giving her a smirk that said, Do it. Say something. I dare you. But she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. No way in hell.

"I agree," Carly said, almost wincing. But the surprised expression on both Eliza and Sebastian's face was well worth it. She went on, "I have been acting a little out of the ordinary lately. I'm really sorry, Mom. I feel like a total idiot." Carly even shocked herself with how sincere she actually sounded.

"Well, that's a good start," Eliza said, a small satisfied smile lurking on her face.

Sebastian was smiling, too. But he was more amused than anything. Carly could almost hear him mocking her. Suck up.

So what if she was a suck up? None of her yelling and complaining had helped. And if her mother went on vacation in a bad mood, it would spread like wildfire to anyone she came in contact with, and ruin the whole trip. Ignoring Sebastian's condescending looks, Carly finished the rest of her coffee standing up and placed the mug in the empty sink. "I'm finished packing, too," she finally added.

"I haven't even started," Eliza said, her stress lines starting to show.

"I could do it for you," Carly suggested, grabbing at an opportunity—any and all—that came her way.

"You do know what looks best on me."

"I do," Carly said smugly. And that was no lie. Any time Eliza had a fashion crisis, Carly was always the one to fix it, and she did it well.