I'M NOT HERE | s.stan

006. not-so-nostalgic

"Well, we're here."

I sighed and took the earphones out of my ears and grimaced. Sebastian stopped the car outside of gigantic gate. "I know you don't wanna be here- neither do I, but they're still your parents."

There's something that maybe you should know about my family. They come from a long line of wealthy generations. Everyone has the highest expectations for everything. I hated it, so did my sister. I'd have to admit, I was thankful for my sister to let me live in New York with her. She was smart to pick the furthest college she could be allowed to go to.

My parents might be the least stuck-up compared to everyone else, they were nice and welcoming. But that doesn't mean they were like my sister and I. My mother just has to gossip at least once a day or perhaps she just might explode, she was the president of her cul-de-sac's country club, she only wore designer, and she loved showing her expensive bags off as church.

I'm surprised my dad was the one to invite my sister, Sebastian, and I to the summer visit. Ever since I was little, he was never around. By that, I mean he never went to church with my mother and even when he was home, he was always in the study which neither me or my sister were ever allowed to go to. Last summer I was busy with a school trip to Europe, so my sister had to go instead. The summer before that, our parents were on vacation so this was the first time in two years that I would be visiting them.

"Yeah, I know, Sebastian." I say, a little annoyed. The gates finally opened and we were inside the compound. I don't remember much about this place, I especially didn't remember how huge the manor was.

"Can't say I missed this place." Sebastian said, winking. I chuckle, nodding to his statement. We finally unload our luggage and I hear the familiar click-clack of my mother's heels on the stone pavement.

"Katherine! Sebastian! Honey! They're here!" I hear my mother holler to my father. Before I can look up from my suitcase, I am enveloped in a tight but quick hug.

My mother looked the same through and through. Same hair styled into a bun, the same yellow diamond necklace, the same color of white nail polish. My father stepped out, he's grown a moustache.

"Katherine Joseph," He acknowledges, then comes to hug me. I hated when he used my middle name. After they greet Sebastian, we all head inside.

"Sebastian you can stay in the guest room, and Katherine you'll take your old room."

Sebastian smiles politely, while I study the interior of my childhood home. Not a lot has changed, maybe a couple of new paintings and statues here and there. Sebastian is taken away from my dad and my mom drags me to the foyer to show off her new vegetable garden. It was pretty nice, if I was being honest.

"As you can see, these are the carrots, those are the potatoes. Everything's all grown here!" My mom says, briskly guiding me around her garden. She seemed to be proud of it. I nod, not really interested in what she had to say. I just wanted to swim in the lake just right in front of the backyard.

That was the favorite thing about this house. The lake was small, but it was big enough for me. It has trees of all kinds surrounding it. The water was as clear as glass and almost as blue as Sebastian's eyes. Wait, why did I think of him?

Seattle was a big city, and there was barely anything other than tall buildings and pollution. So having a lake near your house was a big thing. It was so hot in the summer, so our house maid had brought us some lemonade. Mother made sure to boast about the lemons that were used in the drink, they were from her lemon trees.

"Please don't forget that the Jamesons are coming over for dinner."

I scoff, "They come every summer. How could I forget?"

The Jamesons were the only ones (aside from Sebastian's family) that had as much money as our parents did, so it was only fit for them to be the best of friends. They moved away three summers ago and now they always visit on the holidays. I, personally, did not care for them as much as my family did. Probably because Mr. and Mrs. Jameson always bickered incessantly, and their children were total nightmares. The older kid was a year younger than me, but ever since middle school, he's been trying to get into my pants. His name was Caleb and I hated him, but maybe I hated his sister more.

Maybe it was just my undying and unreasonable hatred for children, but his sister was an evil little brat. Her name was Angel, short for Angelina. I always found it ironic because she an absolute devil. She would always cry when she couldn't mess around with Joane's clothes, and she loved to mess around my room; taking books out of shelves, drawing on my sketchbooks and playing my guitar (she didn't even know how.)

It had been three years since I saw her, and she was probably 13 so she must be a 'teenager' now. Even worse, but how could I blame her? I too, was unfortunately a teenager as well.

"Anyways, please make sure to wear something...reasonable." My mother says, eyeing my current attire in disgust. I furrowed my brows, what's wrong with my sweater?

After Mother left me for 'tea time,' I retreated back to my room where I hope I could hide in for the remainder of the night. My room was exactly like how it was when I left it. Neat and tidy. I collapsed on my bed. This mattress was amazing, especially after the crummy ones at the motels.

I sighed in content, but I decided to get up after a while. I still needed to unpack. I figure I should listen to my mother and wear a nice dress like she implied. But I did not pack any dresses, like I probably should have.

So maybe there might be something left in my old closet. I jump to my feet and open the small but space white wardrobe. So many of my old clothes were tiny now, and they were no longer my style. I used to wear clothes that best suited my parent's liking, so if I wore this then I would probably please them.

After a while, I finally find the perfect dress. A pink, floral one. It seemed perfect for the weather, and light too. But there was one big problem, one very big problem. It was too short for me, way too short. The dress went up to half my thigh! It's not like I had a choice, though. It's certain they would never stop grilling me on my 'poor taste' in fashion if I ever wore something else.

So, short dress it is.