Page 96 - NS 2024

“Do you even have your license?” Owen asked.
“Yes,” Sienna replied. “I’m twenty-one. Why would I not have my license?”
Owen shrued. “You had that remote-controlled toy car when we were kids and you were so bad at driving it. I promised myself I would never get in a real car with you.” Sienna
looked at both of us. “Break your promise, then. I’ll pick you up in two hours.”
When Sienna pulled into my driveway I had four bikinis laid out on my bed. I ran to the door and poked my head out. “Hi,” I said.
“Hi,” She replied. “Are you ready?”
“To be honest, I don’t know what I’m preparing for,” I admitted. I still had my mother’s note in my pocket, and I had been rereading it every een minutes to make sure I wasn’t missing anything.
I held the letter up for Sienna to read, as if she hadn’t read her own. When I held it up, I realized there was something on the back: coordinates. “Wait!” I exclaimed. “ese are coordinates. We can conrm these with Owen to make sure we’re headed to the right place.” “Genius,” Sienna said. “So are you ready for this adventure now?”
“Not uite. I don’t know what to wear.”
“at’s a good outt you have on right now,” Sienna told me, gesturing to my jean shorts and bright pink tank top. It felt almost wrong somehow to transition from a black funeral dress to a bright pink tank top, but I needed a bit of cheering up.
“Yeah, but I need to pack a swimsuit. What if we have to swim to this island?” “I didn’t think of that,” Sienna said. “I didn’t pack one.”
“at’s okay, you can borrow one of mine.”
We spent the next een minutes picking out the perfect swimsuits to wear. “Should we get goles too?” Sienna asked. I found myself truly laughing for the rst time since my mom passed.
“We should get some pool noodles while we’re at it!” I suested.
In another ten minutes, Sienna’s car was loaded with pool oaties, goles, and a few snacks in case our adventure lasted long. She turned her radio on and asked me if it was okay if we rolled the windows down.
“So what have you been up to recently?” I asked. I knew she was in college, but that was the extent of my knowledge.
“I’m studying art,” She replied.
“Really?”
“Yup,” She said, pausing. “Are you judging me?”
“No, not at all. I’m just thinking of the little drawings you used to make in our sand-pit.”
“I did use to do that,” She laughed. “I’ve always loved art. My parents threw a t when I told