Chase

The worst time of day is morning. Because everything is so bright, and cheery, and freakishly happy, and if you’ve just woke up -like I have- then you’re in no mood to be happy or cheerful. Especially not if you’re me.
Because if you are me, I am supposed to be going to summer camp today. It’s a day camp. A child’s day camp. Does that sound bright, cheery or happy?
I think not!
Anyway. My mom thinks it’s cool for kids to go to these camps and make new friends. She also thinks that race-car beds are cool. And I’ll give her that, they are. WHEN YOU’RE 8 YEARS OLD!
I am a full grown 13 year old boy. And do I want to sleep in a red racing-car bed at night? Well, I mean it is sort of fun to pretend I’m driving it sometimes. But I would never admit that. My point is, my mom thinks a lot of things are cool, when really, they’re just as lame as she is.

“Chase sweety, wake up okay? You wouldn’t want to be late on your first day of summer camp!” That cheery voice happens to be my mother.
She decided she’d try to boost my spirits I bet. Because she does that a lot. She’ll tell me I wouldn’t want to be late for something that in reality, I’d love to just skip altogether, and I think it’s her way of saying: ‘Sure I love you, but I’m going to ruin your life anyway. But if you do this for me, you know, let me ruin your life, I’ll make you brownies with the colorful chocolate chips in them, okay?’, and that, my friend, is certainly NOT okay.
“I’m already up, mom,” I shrieked down the stairs.
Even though I was being forced into camp today, I was slightly excited. Now before you go off telling me about how I just said I hate camp, I do hate camp. The reason I’m excited is because I’m not going.
I spent all of last night sitting on my bed devising a plan to get me out of camp, and I think it just might work. And if it doesn’t, then I’m in trouble. But let’s hope it works.

So my plan is, I’m going to run away. I’m going to tell my mom I’m a responsible young man -she’s always saying that too me, so it’s got to count for something if I agree with her- and that I can take myself to camp.
Then, when I get there, I’m going to walk away. I’m not sure what I’ll do all day, but I’ve got plenty of snacks. Instead of packing my camp supplies, I packed bags of chips, containers of home-made cookies, and last but certainly not least, gummy snakes. Yum.
So I’m set for the day.
Now all I have to do is make this plan work.

Just at that moment my sister walked into the room. She was smirking like an idiot and leaning against my doorway.
“So guess what Chaster?” she asked.
“Don’t call me that, Iver.”
“Wow, great dis. How creative are you to turn Ivy into Iver?” Ivy stared at me for a moment then smiled.
“Not very. Anyway. Mom wanted me to tell you that she knows about your little plan to run away from camp and she’s not buying it.” Ivy didn’t even so much as flinch when I screamed like a little girl.
“She knows? How? I just came up with it last night...” I was so busy worrying that I didn’t notice Ivy laughing in a crumpled blob on the floor.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“Oh, nothing.” Ivy began to stand up slowly, still smiling. Her face was slightly red from all her laughter. That was it. I’d had enough.
“Tell me!” I insisted.
“Fine. It’s just that, mom didn’t actually know about your plan. I was taking a guess. But now that I know for sure...” Ivy started picking at her nails.
“Please don’t tell!” I was willing to do anything to make her shut it. If she told, then I’d be forced to pack for camp, take a shower, and then worst of all, meet new kids! Not gonna happens.
“Chill. I’m not going to tell.” She pushed her body off the wall easily and smiled like the little witch she was.
“For a price.”

And there you have it world. My sister. Charming? Very. NOT!