Where I Belong Read Online Free PDF Page B

in.
    Grandpa slams on the brakes, screeching to a halt before putting the car in park. “Did I play football?” Grandpa yanks a large gold ring with a red stone off his right hand and passes it back to Tripp. “Won state in 1958, the last year this town ever did that.”
    Tripp’s face lights up. “Way cool, Grandpa. Our prep school’s football team is only for the kids who are too fat for lacrosse. We get killed by all the other schools.”
    I forgot that football is God in Texas. That must be the other half of the social life, half football, half hanging outat the Sonic. Because I have no desire to see any of this in person, I need to initiate my plan to get out of here ASAP. Even after a few hours, I can already feel myself turning into a loser.
    After driving around and seeing lots of teeny tiny houses, more than a few of which need paint jobs, we pull into the driveway of what appears to be a cottage designed for little people.
    “Home, sweet home,” Grandpa says. “I forgot that y’all have never seen the place where your mother grew up. Lots of good memories here.”
    “A lot of memories, that’s true at least.” Grandma sighs. Grandma’s turning out to be a total Debby Downer, and I’m loving it.
    “You two follow Grandma in, and I’ll fetch the bags,” Grandpa says.
    Grandma opens the unlocked red door, and we step inside.
    “I am no tour guide like your grandpa, but I’ll show you around the place so you kids feel at home.” Grandma stands in the middle of the living room, whose furniture reminds me of The Golden Girls minus the Floridian element. Suddenly, I see why they don’t lock the door; there’s nothing worth stealing.
    She points to the right. “That’s the kitchen.”
    She points to the left. “That’s the bathroom.”

    She points ahead. “That’s Grandpa and my room.”
    She points to the left again. “That door, that’s my sewing room. Tripp, you’ll be staying there. We got a nice daybed for you. Your grandpa insisted on the expensive one.”
    And then Grandma points to the door to the right of that. “And Corrinne, you and your mother will stay here in the guest bedroom, Jenny Jo’s old room.”
    Hold on: Instead of sharing a room with Waverly, I am sharing a room with my own mother! Wow. This just went even further south. And this entire house is smaller than any of my friends’ apartments. I thought people didn’t live in the city because they want space. There’s no space here. All I see is cramped, old furniture and knick-knacks and an embroidered sign that says COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS . What blessings? No wonder my mom got out of this place. I never knew how poor Grandma and Grandpa were, and now my parents foist their kids on them. How insensitive are they?
    But I just smile because I need Grandma on my side if I am ever getting out of here. See, Mom? I am practicing my filter already.
    “Scoot. Y’all run off to bed now. It’s way past your bedtime,” Grandma says, and I am happy to oblige because I have some serious business to attend to.
    “Good night, kids,” Grandpa says, and he bear-hugs both Tripp and me at the same time. He smells like aconstruction site mixed with cinnamon.
    In my room I don’t bother to unpack. First of all, I can’t find a closet. There’s a tiny door with one hanging rack, but I can’t believe that’s the closet. I couldn’t fit half my suitcase into it. And why should I even bother? I’ll be out of here before I know it. I take out my phone and promptly ignore “her” texts.
Her: You make it?
Her: You find your grandparents?
Her: Call!!
Her: At least have Grandma call!!
    I dial up Waverly instead.
    “Did you make it?” Waverly says, answering on the first ring. “Have you seen any cowboys? Is it really true that everything—I mean everything —is bigger in Texas?”
    “Yes, I made it. I didn’t see any cowboys, but I think I might have seen a cow. And Texas might be bigger, but it is not better. I have a plan