Why can’t I get comfortable??? Ugh, ok. Let’s think about this rationally. Perhaps I would accomplish more if I tried rotating my body. Okay so, rotate. Turn. Rotate. Oh wait I got it!-nope. Never mind. Turn-“Vero, will you puh-leeze stop moving! We’re trying to watch a movie here!!” Lola shifts her attention back to the laptop screen, but not before she catches me with my tongue sticking out at her. Naturally, she scowls. You try sleeping with a van that never stops moving! , I mentally scream at her, although I know that there’s no possible way she can hear me.

In truth I don’t know how anyone can sleep in a van, moving or not. The piles of suitcases, the uneven floors, the overcrowded small living space. It’s torture I tell you!!! Although that may have something to do with the fact that I’m in the back of the van. Hmm, who knows?

Anyways, at least I have my trusty CD player. Plus a few extra batteries, a gift from my very generous grandfather. I open up the player and pop in my cd. It’s filled with my “sleepy songs”. Hopefully it will be a good weapon against the bumpity-bump-bump of the van. Though I honestly doubt it will. I sit up and steal a glance outside the window.

Acapulco, my ocean city. Right now we’re heading toward the center of the city. As I think about our stay here, I conclude that this vacation has been absolutely amazing! The hotel was marvelous! The restaurants? Divine! Plus, there was this ENORMOUS swimming pool in the hotel! Best of all, the beach was right in back of the hotel!

It was one of the most amazing natural sites I’ve ever seen. Practically perfect. Though I have to say the saltwater was a tremendous flaw. It doesn’t taste right. Plus the sand gets all over your body and it just doesn’t feel right.

My thoughts return to my surroundings. We are now stopping in front of a grocery store. I hope they have hot and ready food like they do in America. I’m so very hungry.
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“¿Ay, en donde pueden estar?” I can hear the tenseness in my mother’s voice, so I shrug my shoulders in response to her question, an answer I know irritates her. She continues pacing. I turn toward my madrina. “¿Van a regresar pronto?” She turns away from her phone and looks me straight in the eye with an endearing smile. “Por supuesto que sí, mi vida. Van a regresar pronto.” I trust her so I know she’s telling me the truth.

We’ve been waiting in the mall for my dad to return with my sisters and my padrino for about an hour or so. They had taken a taxi to the restaurant where my aunt and uncle were dining. We wanted to eat in different places so we split into two groups: My parents, my padrinos, my sisters and I were in one group. While in the other group were my aunt and uncle, their two daughters, my aunt’s sister (not my aunt) and my cousin Fernie. Our group had gone to eat at Micky D’s while my cousins’ group went to eat at a restaurant that I didn’t even bother to remember the name of.

Of course, if it were up to me, my family would be on its way to Mexico City at this very instance. However, as you may or may not have caught up on, it’s not up to me or what I think. Or even what my parents think. We came with my aunt in uncle in THEIR van so we’ll leave with my aunt and uncle when THEY feel like it. Which, most likely, will not be very soon. Ugh, I wish we could leave already.

I turn my attention to my ice cream, who, without permission, has decided to start melting. I scoop up some of the creamy goodness and pop it into my mouth. Mmm, galleta. Cookies n’ cream, one of my FAVORITE flavors. Omygosh! It’s really delicious. And I’m getting over excited. Again. I tend to do that a lot.

I glance down at Lola and Angie’s ice cream. They as well have started melting. Presumably they’d melt before my sisters even stepped foot in the mall. The flavors were vanilla and strawberry. Ugh, strawberry. What an ugly and disgusting flavor. Lola could keep her ice cream. It was Angie’s ice cream I really wanted.

I could eat it you know. I could tell Angie that it had been my mother who’d consumed it. Or I could tell her that there hadn’t been enough money. Better yet, I could tell her that she’d simply been forgotten. Perhaps just one quick bite. Just one quick itty-bitty bite. I lick my lips in anticipation. I can already taste the creamy goodness. Maybe, just maybe… Nah, I’d only get scolded at.
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One light, two lights, three lights, four. Five lights, six lights, seven lights, more. One light, two lights-“Are we there yet?” I turn my attention away from the window and face Lola so I can answer her question.

Taking her in, I notice that she looks awfully tired. Much too tired for an 8 year old be. As with me, sleep does not like her very much at the moment. We’ve had a long day, so naturally the sand man is ignoring us tonight. When my dad, my sisters and my padrino had finally arrived at the mall, it was in a taxi and NOT in the van we were supposed to ride in.

They told us that they hadn’t come in the van because my aunt had said that supposedly my cousin Pamela was so sick that they needed to take her to the hospital in Mexico City. Like seriously?! If Paola was really THAT sick they should’ve taken her to a hospital in Acapulco, NOT Mexico City! Which, by the way, is hundreds of miles from Acapulco. It’s completely idiotic! Not that Pamela had anything to do with it. Of that I’m absolutely certain of. She’s too nice and not at all like her mother.

So since my aunt was already on her way back to Mexico City, we had to find our own way back. Except there was this one itty-bitty problem:

All of our stuff was in the van.
Everything! I am not kidding you! It was ALL in the van. Our luggage, the purses, our jackets! Did I forget to mention that my sisters and I were in flip flops, shorts and tank tops? Well guess what? We were! So by nightfall we were pretty cold. Not cool.

However we were lucky because my mom had had the good sense to take her purse off of the van being driven by the lady who seemed to hate our guts for no apparent reason. It seems that in a way my mom had smelt subterfuge before the rest of us. She’s a very intelligent woman.

So after the brutal dump, we went to a bus station to head back to Mexico City. Now I know what you’re thinking: A bus station?

The thing is that in Mexico there are these really cool long distance transportation buses that are like a hybrid of an airplane and a bus. Though of course that’s only just my definition. The buses have a bathroom, comfortable lean back seats, a food bag for each passenger, and mini TVs every two seats that display movies. Most of the time the movies are in English. Riding that bus was kind of an upside to the whole abandonment thing.

So now with the movie having just ended, it’s only logical that Lola is asking me if we have already arrived in Mexico City. “No, and don’t ask me when we’re going to get there because I honestly don’t know.” Little harsh, I know, but I haven’t gotten much sleep today.

I lay my head against my seat, my mind floating in and out of that precious dreamland. The day's events are swirling through my head. I realize that since my mother and aunt are now in a fight to the death, which is totally fine with me since I myself am starting to despise my aunt, the next time I see my cousin Pamela will probably be in a year or so. The thought saddens me.
I guess those Spanish TV Soap operas are right: You can’t really trust anybody these days.