This Summer Will Be Different by Carley Fortune

Sweat dripped from my forehead as I pushed myself to pedal harder. My legs hurt and once again I asked myself why I always came to school by bike when the dark gray old Daisy was parked in the garage just waiting for me to ride her into the sunshine.

But no, of course Sarina absolutely had to do something for her physical fitness.

Next to me on the street, a red convertible overtook me, the driver gave me a malicious grin, stepped on the gas, and left me coughing in a cloud of dust.

Such a show-off !

I gritted my teeth and finally turned onto my street.

Sudden silence surrounded me and I could only faintly hear the distant engines of the cars on the main street.

I sighed with relief.

To my left and right were now the richer people's properties.

Well-kept front gardens teeming with finely trimmed hedges, stone statues, rose bushes and symmetrically arranged flower beds. I never really considered myself rich. Why? You only get jealous anyway and once it was discovered that I was living in a villa with my parents, the fake friend requests with suggestions to throw a party would just pile up.

And I could do without the attention.

At number 23 I slowed down a little and called out, "Day Mr. Jenks!"

Mr. Jenks was a statue.

Yes, you heard that right. When I was thirteen, I named him that name because it always reminded me of my elementary school gym teacher. The muscular build, the waves in the hair, the straight nose, the pronounced cheekbones. . .

Except he never came to class with a cloth that barely covered his abdomen.

I had to hold back a laugh at the thought.

As I drove on, grinning, I only noticed the black cat following me out of the corner of my eye.

A gentle wind blew into my face and cooled my overheated skin a little. I took my hands off the handlebars and spread my arms like wings, put my head back, closed my eyes and for a moment gave myself over to the feeling of freedom.

Still freehand, I guided my bike around the left-hand bend.

Without taking my eyes off the road, I reached back with my right hand and fumbled for my keys. With the other I held on to the handlebars again.

I fished it out of my pocket just in time to put my hand back on the handlebars and apply the brake. Otherwise I would have crashed at full speed into the wrought iron gate that marked the property's grounds.

Contrary to the whining of neighbors, our garden didn't look like it was being prepared for a jury from the gardening competition to show up at any moment to evaluate the millimeter-perfect lawn clippings and the pale pink blossoms on the apple tree.

It looked more like a mix of jungle and oasis.

From fragrant hollyhocks to plump raspberry bushes to yellow forsythia, you could actually find everything in our sanctuary.

Even the fountain that sparkled between the tall cherry trees seemed to belong here.

My mother loved gardening.

She could sit in her beds and pull weeds for hours without getting bored.

There was no place where you could say Mum had put less heart and soul into it.

I unlocked the gate and it opened with a squeak.

I groaned internally.

It really can't get any louder, can it?

I could already hear the voice of Mrs. Wagner - our neighbor - who always found fault with everything. She was the typical type of person who, as soon as it was a minute after 10 p.m. and you heard a peep, immediately called the police for disturbing the peace.

The same, of course, also applied to the afternoon rest.

I decided to tell my father that he should oil the gate again.

Exhausted, I got off the bike. I didn't notice the black cat that snaked its way through the bars of the gate.

As the large front door closed behind me, I was immediately enveloped in coolness. I leaned against her and closed my eyes.

First, showering, eating ice cream and then lying on the terrace in the sun with a book , I completed my plan for the first afternoon of the holiday. "I'm here!" I shouted, kicking my shoes off.

No Answer.

I frowned and continued into the entrance hall. There was no one here either. Normally my parents were already there at this time.

I shrugged and went into the kitchen. There I slammed my certificate on the table - all A's - and grabbed a glass of water. I drank it greedily.

Then I made my way to my room.

Upstairs I stuffed my bag into a corner and ran into the bathroom that adjoined my room. I took off my clothes and got into the shower.