Spring Break Story

You could hear the roar of the ocean being drowned out by the loud strumming of a guitar. Not only was the guitar ringing in my ears, but also I was dizzy from turning. My sore feet were doing the cumbia all by themselves. I had no energy left, and my body was going into overdrive. One more song I reminded myself. I glanced over at the clock as the song came to an end. 12:00. The mariachi had wrapped up what seemed to be a never-ending stream of music. And I made my way back to the table where I had left my room key. I picked it up and walked hurriedly back to my room where I knew my mother was waiting for me.

The air smelled like the beach, salty and crisp. It was a smell that I loved more than I cared to admit. I wanted to bottle up the smell and keep it somewhere safe, so that I could open it and remember when I was back in Austin. 

Austin… I wondered how everyone was doing. I dreaded being without Wi-Fi or a phone that worked, but at the same time I enjoyed not thinking about it. I didn’t have to worry about replying or talking to anyone else. I could be reclusive, but be focusing on me, instead of what everyone else was thinking. I suppose that was the point of the trip, connecting to myself. At least, that’s what my mother continuously preached to us about.

I walked up the tiled stairs to the door and inserted my room key, and pulled the door ajar. My mom sat in the chair adjacent to the door, reading Cosmo. She didn’t even look up at me. I went about my business and changed into my pajamas and crawled into the already made bed.

I awoke with a start the next morning. Lauren was jumping on my bed in an attempt to get me out of bed. I grudgingly agreed, breakfast being my only motivation. The thought of chorizo and eggs was enough to make my mouth water.

“There’s no time for breakfast today,” my mom said throwing a granola bar at me. “We have things to do.”

            “What things?” I ask annoyed.

            “I’m not going over it another time for you.” She growled.

           

            Now I was a little more than slightly annoyed. I couldn’t get breakfast, and I was being dragged out of bed to do God knows what. Nonetheless, I didn’t want to start anything with my mom. I threw on some shorts and a tank top, while stuffing the granola bar into my mouth. My mom walked out the door, as I put on my shoes, struggling to put them on faster. I didn’t want to be late for whatever she had planned.

            I close the door of the cab shut, still angry that I have no idea where we are going. I want to ask again, but I don’t want to be yelled at in front of the cab driver. I sit and stare out of the window and look at passing signs, trying to figure out where on earth my mother has decided to take us. Then I remember, we are going to Chichenitza.