American Vacanza

hello, raw fish • madison

I handed Siena my rayPhone and told her to text Ethan about our little change of plans. What a euphemistic way of putting it: "change in plans." Like when my mom- my real mom- told me my goldfish had been sent to SeaWorld because he was an 'extra special fish.' I believed that lie for longer than I care to admit.

Then, realizing my mistake - that Siena hated Ethan, and would probably use my phone to text him something creepy and weird- I amended my orders. She should call him. And put him on speakerphone.

"Don't say anything weird when I'm talking to him, okay, twerp?" I demanded, slamming my hands down on the steering wheel.

"Well, you just called me a twerp, so I'm not making any promises," she grumbled.

This trip was a bust, and I already wanted to get it over with. Didn't Mom and Dad know that by sticking us in a car, much closer to one another than either of us wanted to be, we would just fight more? We'd been on the road for two minutes, and we weren't any closer than we were yesterday.

I tapped Ethan's phone number and called him, sending a death glare to Siena before the car swerved and I put my eyes back on the road. She was still snickering- which wasn't a good sign.

"Hey, babe, what's up?" came his gruff voice.

Siena interrupted before I could say anything, her voice high and nasal: "Hey, baaaabe. I just wanted to tell you I'm breaking up with you, because you both look and smell like raw fish."

I wrestled the phone out of her puny little hands, deliberately whispering, "Shut UP, Siena! Hey, Ethan. So, there's been a little change of plans. Our parents want us to drive to New York instead of flying to Italy."

"New York? I'm down," he intoned, his signature 'chill California bro' attitude shining through.

"No, no. So, Siena and I have to drive to New York, where there's a plane that can take us to Italy. So, if you want to go to Italy, you have to come on this road trip with us. Are you okay with that?"

"Yeah, as long as I'm with you." Ugh, he was so sweet. Ethan might not have been the perfect boyfriend, but he really tried to be. And wasn't that what counted?

"All right. Perfect. We'll be at your house in a few minutes." I hung up, sending yet another hard stare at Siena before sliding on my aviators and stating at the horizon.

"I don't know why you haven't broken up with him yet. He's a jerk and he literally looks like raw fish. I wasn't exaggerating on that one."

Siena could offer her opinion all she wanted- I wasn't listening.

"Because he's nice to me. He loves me, and we have the same crazy personality. He'll do anything with me. He's fearless."

"Yeah. He'll do anything with you, like spray-painting the wall behind the school or smoking pot at every party you go to," she chuckled.

"That was just a rumor! We didn't... we didn't actually paint that graffiti and you know it!" I defended. Those rumors had been put to rest a year ago, when a kid at school had come to school literally red-handed-- he had red paint all over his hands and couldn't get it off.

"Sure. Notice how you didn't defend yourself on the pot thing. We all knew that your 'allergies' excuse for why your eyes were red had 'liar' written all over it," she sniggered. "Nobody gets allergies in December."

The thing was, I hadn't been smoking. Sure, Ethan was a grade-A pothead. But as the daughter of a guy who was somewhat in the public eye, I couldn't afford any missteps.