If you missed out on the Get Lucky Anthology now is your chance to meet Charlotte and Hunter.
It had been five years since I was forced to spend my Spring Break with my parents at their friends’ lake house. Five years since I had to put up with their annoying son, Hunter Davison, who thought throwing frogs at me and watching me scream was the greatest activity since tubing.
Unfortunately for me, this year, the annual Robotics Camp was cancelled because Mrs. Langston had to go and get pregnant. I’d so much rather be working with machines than spending my week in a technology-free zone with a frog thrower.
I put my worn copy of Wuthering Heights down, and stretched my legs out as best as I could in the backseat of Dad’s Subaru without kicking my little brother, Joey. It had been a long drive from New York to North Carolina and, while I wasn’t exactly looking forward to our destination, I was looking forward to standing again.
Mom rolled down the window, and my dirty blonde waves instantly got sucked into the whirlwind. She inhaled deeply. “Can’t you just smell the fresh air?” she exclaimed.
“All I smell is Joey’s feet,” I mumbled.
“My feet don’t smell!” Joey yelled and then proceeded to stick both of his oversized feet in my face. I wrestled with his dingy socks, trying to get them as far away from my nose as I possibly could.
“Mom, tell him to stop!” I called out, and landed a good smack on his leg.
“Knock it off, you two,” Mom said and, with one last thrust of his foot toward my nose, he finally retreated to his side of the car.
“Real mature,” I groaned.
“I’m ten. What’s your excuse?” he said, with his signature smile that could have an old lady pinching his cheeks in seconds.
I looked at him, his blond curls a complete disarray on his head, and laughed. I reached over and rustled his hair which won me a few arm smacks before I put my hand back in my lap. My brother could be a royal pain in the butt, although, for some reason, I still loved the little dweeb.
“We should be there in a few minutes,” Dad said, and I think it was the first words he uttered since we got in the car. He was a man on a mission, and I doubted we would have even stopped if it wasn’t for Joey whining that he had to pee for twenty minutes straight.
“Yay!” Joey exclaimed. He had been coming to the Davison’s lake house with my parents for the past five years and had become close to the Davison’s youngest son, Parker, who was only a year older than him. According to Mom, once we pulled into the parking lot of the Davison’s, I would barely see either of them. Which was fine by me. It was bad enough I had to spend my Spring Break in the middle of nowhere. The last thing I wanted was to have to entertain a ten and an eleven-year-old.