All the sunny places

Everybody wants something.

Money, fame, love - does it matter? People would do anything for this one, little thing that they always dreamed about and they’d stop at nothing. They would kill for it. Die for it even.

So what did I want the most? What was my one, little thing?

Perhaps it was my dad’s coping mechanism to never stay for long, to disappear eventually. I couldn’t understand what was so wrong about wanting to stay, but the ache to know it was getting stronger every day.

It seized me when I looked at my mom’s old photos from High School - I wanted to experience it too. Like the movies, like the books I’ve read, I wanted all of that. I even wanted the stupid cheerleader dress and the pointless graduation, but the more I’ve spoken about it, the more my dad seemed to be against it.

We’ve been on run in our spacious caravan since I was just a little girl - well, since mom passed away. At the brief age of eighteen, I’ve already seen almost everything - the ugly, trashed places in the world and the sunny ones. People who have been too kind and in contrast to those people who took advantage of your kindness.

My dad took me to various places around the world and in a split of the first second I knew I loved beaches and oceans the most. They resonated with my soul and I often choose them over anything - but in a contrast to me, dad liked mountains and winter.

He often reminded me that many people would give anything to have a life like mine - that it’s something his friends and my mom dreamed of every day when they were young, but when you don’t know anything else than this, it gets kind of boring eventually.

Where were his friends, if they cared so much for this? Dad never dared to speak once of them.

Would my mom want this as well, if she was alive still? God knows.

I’m not an observer, I take actions in life and they often lead me to answers to my most desirable questions - but these were never answered.

And you don’t have any friends for that matter - it’s a never-ending circle. Making friends wasn’t the hard part, but staying in contact with them was. Every one of them promised to call me, to text me, to never forget me - and they tried, but communication dies out eventually. When I came back to their country after what seemed to be like two years, they usually became someone else already. People don’t stay their sweet, vacation self, but change to someone more serious - plus they have their own lives going on, too.

I had my fair share of boys too, but it wasn’t big of a surprise when they disappeared too. I still had their accounts followed - every person I’ve ever met and their lives on my screen - but that was it. It ended no matter how hard you tried.

I sat behind our wooden table that now had a big, homemade, chocolate cake on it, my dad glaring at me proudly with tears in his eyes. It was sunny outside, the perfect summer and even more perfect day to celebrate my eighteen birthday.

I blew out all of the candles eagerly, closing my eyes. “What did you wish for?” Dad asked, smiling widely and leaning onto the kitchen sink.

“You know I can’t tell,” I said back and crossed my arms automatically. I didn’t know what to wish for, as I had everything I wanted, besides for one thing and it was something entirely different than my life now.

“Fair enough,” dad said, taking a cup of coffee into his hands and sipping it. He still had the same boyish look to him, even when the years had worn him out already. In his heart, he was still my age. “What would you like for your birthday? It’s a big deal to turn eighteen. We can look at that dress you like and I’ll let you choose our next trip,” he suggested and sat down on a chair next to me. I thought about it for a second - I did really like the dress, but I’ve had other plans.

“I’d like to go to school,” I shrugged nonchalantly and watched as my father chuckled at that. He shook his head amused, giving me a knife and two plates for the cake. Now that I looked at it, the cake was definitely not a masterpiece, but it was the thought that counted.

“You know, you’re probably the only teenager in the world to ever say that,” he smiled one more time. “But we can’t do that, Sienna.”

“Why not?” I asked, frowning automatically. “Does it have any logical explanation or is it just because you don’t want to?” I said. Dad was never surprised or taken aback by my bluntness - he was the one to raise me like this, after all. He always said he wanted me to be brave and to take him as my friend as much as a dad. When I think about it, he is my only friend.

“I don’t know if I can stay anywhere. It’s a completely different world to ours, you know?” He looked at me significantly.

“That’s exactly why I want to do that. You claim to love new experiences, but are scared of this one,” I pointed out, paring the cake into two little slices.

“It’s harder than you think it is,” he sighed and took the plate for me. I looked at him quizzically. “The main reason we live in a caravan is that it’s made to move - we can’t live in one place with it,” he explained to which I frowned, searching for a solution.

“Then why don’t we just rent a house?” I asked genuinely, making my dad snicker. He took a bite of the chocolate cake that immediately fell apart and made a mess all over the table. “It’s not exactly amazing, but it tastes better than I hoped,” he smiled.

“I told you I could make it myself,” I shrugged. I loved to cook and bake in my free time, it was something I picked on very early in childhood - mostly because my dad couldn’t cook for his life and we had to eat takeouts all the time. Traveling around the world wasn’t always fun and you didn’t always have something to do, so on those lazy days, I spent time in the kitchen, teaching myself how to cook and keeping myself busy. When we visited countries I always asked someone for tips on their cultural food and watched as people made it, sometimes helping staff in the hotels. I’ve learned a lot of skills this way, just because I had a lot of free time.

“That wouldn’t be much of a birthday cake, would it?” He chuckled a bit, but I still haven’t touched the cake. He sighed at that, rubbing his green eyes tiredly. “It’s not easy to rent a house. I don’t know where you’ve got this idea, but it’s not.”

“Look, I know that. But we do have money and we could make it work,” I said hopefully, but to my desperation, he only shrugged.

“We do, but I’m saving up for your driving license and car, as well as college tuition. And then we still need money to travel and eat somewhere - it doesn’t seem like it, but being on go all the time is cheaper than staying in a house a long time.”

“But think about it like this,” I waved my hands dramatically, preparing to make a lecture. “I have much more of a chance to get into college if I go to normal High School instead of being homeschooled, I’ll also have so much more things to write about for my essay,” I suggested.

“But the school system is entirely different from how I’ve been teaching you. Are you sure you can manage to fit in?” He asked worriedly, but I started to feel at least a tint of hope - and that kept me on my toes, aching to get him to agree.

“Of course, I can. You taught me well,” I said sweetly, to which he raised an eyebrow, showing that he wasn’t buying my fake compliments. “We would still have to stay somewhere if I wanted to do my driver’s license. It’d be much more expensive if you taught me and we just paid for the license without taking any lessons. I don’t have to have a car immediately - I have nowhere to go,” I continued talking, making my dad finally stop and think for a second.

“That’s a good point, but what about the house?” He asked in the end.

“We will find something small with a little garden to park our caravan on - and I’ll cook every day. I’ll even clean the whole house,” I begged now, trying to make the most out of my puppy eyes.

“If we find something cheap and easy to take care of,” he shrugged. My eyes lit up with happiness. “I’m not saying yes,” he said when he realized. I frowned immediately.

“We can still travel. Every other weekend - go for a road trip. I think that would be fun. It’s my last chance to do something like that in my life. It’s just one year and then we continue with our traveling next summer - and then I go to college,” I said pleadingly, trying to make the most out of it. I was met with the hard eyes of my dad, but something in them cracked up at the sight of me. “I just want to be normal for once. Like others.”

“You’re normal,” he said, sighing softly. I shrugged coolly.

“But I’m nothing like others.”

I saw him fighting an inner battle within himself, his face full of thought. I felt like these minutes passed so sluggishly and every second felt like torture to my soul - but he looked at me defeatedly, making my heart flutter.

“You know I would do anything for you. One year, Sienna,” he said in the end and I jumped from my chair excitedly, letting out a happy scream hugging him ever so tightly.

“Thank you hundred times,” I shrieked happily.

“You’re suffocating me,” he let out a breath but laughed with me in the end. I let go of him eventually, still feeling the happiness in me getting bigger and bigger. “You’ll find yourself a job to help me, is that clear?”

“Clear,” I smiled. “Jobs can’t be hard.”

“Well, we will see about that,” he rolled his eyes playfully. “And you’ll study hard. I want you to focus on school and not just stupid teenager things.”

“The fact that you even think I wouldn’t study is insane,” I said ironically as he raised an eyebrow, amused. I finally sat down, took a spoon, and ate a bite of my chocolate cake.

“I mean it,” he added seriously.

“Oh, don’t worry,” I waved my hand carelessly, ignoring his stern look. “The cake is really good,” I chewed loudly.

“No way you noticed it’s here,” he rolled his eyes, making me smile innocently.

“But on the other hand,” I said, smacking my lips dramatically. “Can I still get the dress?”

“I guess you can still get the dress,” he sighed as I shrieked happily one more time.

“Thank you! You’re truly the best,” I smiled widely. “I need to wear something for my first day at school. And you know yellow is my color.”