Chp. 1:

Indian Summer: 5 dictionary results

–noun

A period of mild, dry weather, usually accompanied by a hazy atmosphere, occurring usually in late October or early November and following a period of colder weather.

Usage:

The term 'Indian summer' is also used metaphorically to refer to a late blooming of something, often unexpectedly, or after it has lost relevance.…

~xXx~

There was nothing special about this summer. I can assure you of that from the start. Nothing ever happened during the summer, other than the occasional spark of entertainment when my granddad was actually funny, and that my friends is a rarity. Or at least, that's what I thought as my mother pulled up to the ranch where I would be staying for the next couple months. It was a petite ranch that once had been a beautiful bright red with children running about the yard, and chickens pecking the ground minding their own business. Now it was falling apart and a horrible shade of dirty tomato with paint peeling in every crevasse throughout the buildings exterior.

This is where I have been staying every summer for the past couple years since the death of my father. It was supposed to help with the grievances I was supposedly feeling, for that closure I had been seeking according to just about everyone. It still brought a few rebel tears to my eyes every time I thought of his death; I preferred to leave it as a tender subject then actually display my emotions openly.

Not like I actually knew anything of the death. Other than one day, he was home and the next I was watching as my mom sat on the couch sobbing into her pail spindle like hands.

Stepping onto the gravel driveway, I take a deep breath of the country air trying hard to resist the urge to shiver the wind has brought with it; it's so different than suburbia Wisconsin...it was tainted with cow manure instead of the toxic fossil fuel gases. Though I have heard that cow manure contains methane, a toxic gas... My mom gives me a weak smile as she tips her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose. "Now honey," she begins the same speech she has given me every other year I go to my grandparents, "Please, please, please do what your grandmother and granddad tell you to. We don't need them having any heart attacks over the summer." I swear I could recite it from heart. I had been hearing it ever since I was a grievance stricken seven year old without a father, I mean really who describes a seven year old like that.

Rolling my eyes, I continue towards the trunk of our silver Honda. Opening the latch and letting the door swing open, the overwhelming nostalgia of home hits me hard in the face as I lean down to pick up my bags. Pushing a strand of brown hair so it hooks around my ear, I stay there like that for a couple moments. Letting myself be enveloped within that familiar smell of coffee beans and dry cleaning that always seemed to fill our house and make its way to the car. The aroma that trails my mother, and at one time my father, everywhere they went. It had been their trademark; that familiarity that separated them from the rest of the world.

All it was really was a horrible reminder of where I would be for the next couple months. Away from the suburbia life I had lived my whole life and back to this…dare I use this word, dump I was dropped off at every summer. I like it here and what not, but there never really is anything new or different that occurs during the summer. Something has to give though; something really has to give after awhile.

"…and remember, I will be at home if you ever need me. Just call and I'll be there…." She rambles on. Not like after a few years of this rehearsed speech I hadn't gotten use to it, but whatever.

"With your phone glued to your side." Smirking, I finish her sentence for her as I watch a look of annoyance flicker across her face for a brief moment as she stares at me; twisting back in her seat to get a better look at what I am doing. I mean, of course I would be dealing drugs out of the back of her car with her sitting in the drivers seat now wouldn't I? Placing the bags on the ground with a faint thud, I walk towards the driver's door as she swings it open to meet me.

Standing up and out of the car, she motions for me to give her a hug "I'm going to miss you; even if you are a smart ass half the time." She sighs as she squeezes me one last time before walking back towards the trunk. "Now let's get your belongings into your room."

A sense of resentment out of no where fills the cracks in-between the butterflies that are suddenly filling my stomach and beating their deadly wings against the lining within my stomach. Trying hard not to lurch at the new feeling, I grasp for the suitcase handle and straighten up. Maybe something already has given.

My mom walks towards the house with one of my bags, reaching for the doorbell as she always has; her hair the same color as mine blowing slightly in the breeze. But still, the breeze has brought some change with it. I slowly let this new feeling consume me as I look around for a second, probably this is just paranoia. No one watching me, no weird white vans driving by; maybe my body's defense system is out of whack. It could be the nostalgia of home is back, though I have never felt homesick before.

This is the same feeling I had right before my second grade school recital, who knew the lead elf would get sick and I would too…only this time on stage. I am pretty sure though I won't be puking all over my grandparents because I have to sing in front of them anytime soon and there aren't any second grade recitals in the middle of summer.

Taking another couple deep breathes and letting the fresh air fill my lungs, I let that familiar faint smile slowly creep across my face. Letting a few strands of hair fall out of place from behind my ear, they sway back and forth in front of my face as the smile broadens a bit more.

Or maybe, it's a sign of a wonderful adventure set out before me. Maybe Mother Nature really knows what she's doing.

I could just as well be crazy though, and all of this is just a weird feeling who doesn't get those every once in awhile.

I could just ignore the negative thoughts running about my brain, and just entertain myself with the thought of this summer being different than any of the others. Like that's even possible.

Shutting the trunk door with my free hand, I continue my way up the driveway and on to the sidewalk leading towards the front door.

My mom is probably in the living room, fake laughing at one of my granddad's mundane jokes. Swirling that iced tea my grandmother insists everyone drinks with a spoon and assuring her, "Loraine it is wonderful, but I drank before I came." Even though it's like a hundred degrees outside and for some reason she insisted on wearing jeans.

Running my hand up and down along the outlines of the bark on the old ash tree sitting next to the outside stoop, I wait for my mom to come out and wonder what I am up to.

After a minute or two, I hear loud stomps as someone approaches the door. The door swings open to reveal the smiling face and open arms of my grandmother. Almost like it's where I belong, I fall in-between her outstretched arms and am greeted with a warm familiar hug. Returning it, I am ushered into the house and up the stairs as something round and waxy is snuck into my hand. Glancing up, I am given a nod and a wink as my grandma gives me one final push towards the stairs.

Grinning at my clenched hands, I continue upstairs and down the hallway towards the room I had overtaken when I started coming here for the summer.

Opening the off white door with caution signs posted on the top half of it, I am welcomed with a collage of everything I was and am. There are still butterflies and flowers pasted on the light purple walls that prove frightfully hard to scrape off, left over from when I was seven. Lizards I had stuck to the ceiling that are hanging by a thin piece of sticky plastic from when I was nine and a 'tomboy'.

My tween years had left various teen boy band posters that I just couldn't bare to part with still hanging on the wall by thumb tacks. The latest addition would be that canopy I had begged for about three years ago. It hung over my bed with its white lace flowing over the head portion of my bed. I got bored with it after about a day, and decided to move it here.

Other then that, there were various rugs flower print curtains and my white painted dresser that at one time belonged to my great great granddad according to my grandmother. Way to scare my seven year old self grandma. I still have visions of him haunting me at night telling me to give him his dresser back.

Plopping down on the bed as dust kicks up all around me, swirling in delicate spirals reflecting the day light that's pouring in from the window. I open my hand as my smile widens.

Unwrapping the piece of cheddar flavored gum and tossing the wrapper with the words WISCONSIN JOES CHEDDAR CHEWS and a picture of a man smiling into the waste bin, I let the taste remind me of a past time, one that I would give anything to return to.

A/N: Yep, my first Sonny With A Chance fic. The next couple chapters are going to be in flash back mode, then it will go back to present for the rest. Just a little for note about what is going on.

Reviews = Love so spread the love people! Review if you like, or hate. Whatever you want to. I don't care if you review or not really, but still it would be appreciated.

Oh and any mistakes are my own, this has not been beta'd