Summer break had finally come to an end, and I was eager to reunite with my family and friends. My summer at my grandparents' farm had been a delightful adventure, filled with discoveries and newfound friendships - especially among the charming farm animals.

Rocky, the feisty rooster, had become a memorable companion, crowing punctually at 5 a.m. every morning. His persistent choice of my bedroom window as his daily wake-up call had often left me wondering if he'd make a better breakfast option.

With my belongings packed the night before, I was free to enjoy the day without any hassle. At 7 a.m., I sprang out of bed, feeling refreshed and eager to tackle the day.

After a refreshing hot shower, I got dressed in my favorite outfit: dark blue jeans, a crisp white cropped t-shirt, and a red plaid long-sleeved flannel shirt. Black boots completed the look. Next, I tackled my thick, dark brown wavy hair, patiently pulling it into a ponytail.

I slipped on my glasses, examining myself in the full-body mirror beside my bed. My tongue instinctively traced the familiar contours of metal and wire, feeling the slight tension as I bit down. The habit was becoming second nature.

In the morning light, my braces gleamed as I inspected my teeth in the mirror. The orthodontist's promise echoed in my mind: "Just 5 more months."

At 9:40, I joined Grandma to collect eggs from the chicken coop. As we worked, I couldn't resist playfully ruffling Rocky's feathers, teasing him for waking me up so early every morning.

Our farmhouse feast was a delightful spread: sunny-side-up eggs for me, scrambled eggs for Grandma and Granpaps, fluffy pancakes topped with juicy, freshly picked strawberries, crispy bacon, toast, and glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice. But the crowning glory was my favorite drink – a cold glass of milk straight from Milly, our lovable cow.

By 10: 30 a.m., we'd finished breakfast, feeling satisfied and content.

After breakfast, I assisted with clearing the kitchen. At 11 I took one last ride with the horses around the farm with grandpa and Gale; a worker. Promptly at 1 pm., my father arrived to take me home. We had lunch with the grandparents first before we left. Dad helped Grandpa load bottles of fresh milk, meat and farm vegetables into the van. It was my grandparents way of expressing gratitude to my parents.

Following heartfelt goodbyes, hugs, and kisses, we set off on the long journey from the farm to town. Luckily, my favorite songs and stories kept us entertained throughout the ride.

We'd stopped at a gas station where my father refilled on gas, I had decided then to text my friends in the group chat.

QueenCora: heyyy! Can't wait to see you guys.

I eagerly typed excited to reunite with the trio. AmberLynn and LucasWright active two weeks ago. It made me groan as I checked their active status. I scrolled up to the conversation we had two weeks ago about why monkey's butts are called Hynie's.

Lucas had mentioned that 'Hynie' or 'Hiney' was a term used in Scottish and Northern English dialects, but Amber and I opted to stick with 'monkey butts' – it was just easier and more fun to say. After chatting for a bit, Amber and Lucas had to leave since phones were only allowed during their free time.

I had sent a final message, wishing them goodnight and telling them to take care and how much I missed them. The status still read ' delivered.'
I pictured them either parking their bags for last day of camp or on the bus, headed home. They'd reply once they were free.

I tucked my phone away as Dad settled back in, smiling at me as he buckled his seatbelt. "You okay, kiddo?" I returned an enthusiastic smile. "Yes." I nodded. I couldn't wait to finally get home.

Dad's assuring smile crinkled the corners of his eyes as he started the engine. An hour passed, and we finally pulled into our driveway. The long ride had left my butt sore and muscles aching. The sun had began to set, casting a dark, starry night, I stepped out to grab my luggage.

My pink backpack and matching suitcase, adorned with hearts, floral stickers, and glittery letters, were unmistakable. I inhaled deeply, savoring the fresh neighborhood air, a welcome change from the farm's cow dung, chicken poop, and organic fertilizer.

Just as I swung my bag over my shoulder, the front door swung open, and little footsteps rushed toward us. A sudden impact knocked the wind out of me. Little hands wrapped around my waist, holding tight. "I missed you!" my little sister exclaimed.

I bent down, returning the affectionate hug. "I missed you too." For a moment, I had forgotten all about my annoying little sister.

Addie's eyes sparkled with mischief. "So, how's farm life? A little bird told me you fell headfirst into cow poop." I rolled my eyes, anticipating her teasing.

"I'm not saying it didn't happen," I admitted, recalling the multiple times I'd struggled to scrub off the stench. Addie laughed amused, I scowl at her and she sticks out her tongue at me. As payback I attacked her with tickles.

" Ladies, a little help here?" Dad intervened, walking past us with bottle of milk in each hand, his muscles flexing beneath his cotton T-shirt.

Addie squealed with delight, dodging my tickling fingers. "Daaaad, help!"

My dad chuckled, setting the milk bottles on the porch. "No rescue missions today, kiddo. Your sister's got this."

I grinned, relentless in my tickling assault. "You're going down, little squirrel!"

Addie collapsed onto the grass, giggling uncontrollably. I helped her up adjusting my glasses, and we headed toward the house, arm-in-arm with my luggage.

Inside, Mom was busy preparing dinner. The aroma filled the air, making my stomach growl.

"Welcome home, sweetie!" Mom exclaimed, giving me a warm hug as soon as I had stepped into the kitchen. "How was your summer at the farm?"

She pulled away with a final kiss on my forehead and I headed to the kitchen table to take a seat after setting my luggage down, Addie still clinging to my arm. "It was...eventful. Learned a lot about farming, though."

Mom smiled, "Glad to hear that. Your grandparents said you were a big help." I smiled, remembering how I came to adjust as days had flew by. " Trust me, it was quite difficult at first. I survived."

My mother hummed in response.

" How come I haven't been to the farm?" Addie asked, feeling like she's missing out on the conversation.

Mom chuckled, returning to the stove to check on what looked like roasted vegetables. " You have but you were a baby back then."

I watched as Addie shrugged, her expression nonchalant. "It doesn't count because I hardly remember anything."

Mom's eyes darted toward Addie before she swiftly changed the subject, turning off the stove and wiping her hands on a tea towel. Her smile seemed forced as she faced us.

"Why don't you help your sister carry her bags and freshen up?" she suggested, her tone light but evasive. "I'll set the table."

I sensed Mom's deliberate diversion, sidestepping Addie's comment to avoid an argument.

Addie glared at me, her eyes narrowing. "Isn't she old enough to carry her own bags? Why do I have to do it?"

I met her gaze, a hint of amusement dancing on my lips. "Aren't you old enough to set the table too? Yet Mom's doing it."

Addie let out an exasperated sigh, dropping her head back in frustration. "Fine."

I chuckled, rising from my chair to grab my suitcase and adjust its handle. Addie whined, reluctantly lifting my backpack onto her shoulder.

We left the kitchen, meeting Dad in the doorway, who was bringing in a basket of fresh vegetables. Addie's dramatic groans echoed through the hallway, reminiscent of a wounded goose.

" What's with the noise?" he asked, nodding toward Addie.

I shrugged.

"Don't ask about it, just keep moving," Addie snapped, her tone dripping with teenage attitude.

Dad's amused glance flicked between us before he continued to the kitchen.

We continued up the stairs.

Everything was just as I had left it when I opened the door to my bedroom, except for the open curtains. I assumed Mom had aired out the room during one of her occasional cleaning sprees.

Addie dropped my bag in the doorway with a thud, catching my attention. I turned to face her, and she rolled her eyes before spinning on her heel and heading back downstairs.

I shook my head. Getting Addie to do anything was always a battle, thanks to her notorious laziness. Her toddler-like attitude and tantrums were nothing new to me.

I settled onto the edge of the bed, surveying my familiar surroundings. My hands absently smoothed the fabric of my dark blue jeans, the repetitive motion soothing. Every detail of my room, from the posters on the wall to the books on the shelf, felt comforting. I savored each moment, grateful to be back home.

I pulled out my phone and checked our group chat for any new messages, but the screen remained unchanged. I wondered if Luke and Amber were back home yet. If so, why the unusual silence? Our group chat was always buzzing, especially when we were apart.

A faint pang settled in my chest, threatening to disrupt my calm. I pushed the feeling aside, focusing on the friendship necklace dangling from my neck. Each of us had one, engraved with a letter from our names - L, A, and C - a symbol of our unbreakable bond. No matter where life took us, we vowed to find each other, no matter what.

I ran my fingers over the delicate chain, tracing the contours of the tiny letter "C". We'd promised that nothing would ever change between us. We had each other.

I shook my head, chiding myself for overthinking. Getting up, I headed to the bathroom to freshen up.

Over dinner, our shared stories and laughter filled the room. It struck me how much I'd missed these moments – family time, Mom's home-cooked meals, and the simple joys of being together.

After dinner, Addie and I settled into our routine, bickering and teasing each other. Mom and Dad exchanged knowing glances, smiling.

Home. I was finally home.