I had left my old school behind. The school I graduated from a month ago, and the school from which I applied to study in San Francisco. I could forget about that plan now. Just like the wild student life with Larissa.

“You're only seventeen years old, and I still remember well what happened last time. Besides, it's going to take even a little longer this time.”

Oh yes, that... I'd been busy for five minutes with the postman, who'd messed up the address list for the entire block, so my dinner had been burnt. The beeping sound of the smoke alarm had prompted the anxious neighbor below us to call the fire brigade. My mother had been forced to return from her outing, almost tearing me apart.

But that wasn't the point. It had been an accident, and what could I do about it if the neighbor was so hysterical that she called in a whole fire brigade?

There was another reason why my mum's plans threw a spanner in the works.

“You promised me that we would go back when it was all over,” I replied, slowly but surely upset, because how was I supposed to explain to my best friend that I probably wouldn't be back for another six months? What would Larissa say when she received such a message?

I'm sorry, but we have to go our separate ways from now on... Oh, and by the way.... You've been waiting for me for a year now, for nothing. I'm studying in Canada for the long term.

God! That would be a nightmare!

I began scratching nervously at my wrist, a stupid habit that had been with me since I was a little girl. It relaxed me in uncomfortable situations like this one, even if my mother didn't like it.

“It's not that simple, darling. If I had a choice, I would have preferred to stay in Sacramento, too.”

I suppressed a snort.

If she didn't like this place, why did she insist on looking for help there? There were plenty of good doctors in California. But no... It had to be British Columbia.

“Look on the bright side... You can make new friends, and the university is great. I graduated there, too, after all, and it took me somewhere in life. And that's despite the fact that it's not a prestigious university,” she said almost as proudly as if she had graduated from Harvard.

Was she serious now? New friends? Oh no, it wouldn't come to that. I wouldn't be able to just swap Larissa without further thought. We'd been friends since I'd been in junior high. She was the only one who had always been there for me.  All the other kids hadn't wanted to have that much to do with me because I'd been this introverted kid with weird hobbies and braces, which I'd - thankfully - gotten removed four years ago.

“My friends are in Sacramento,” I said tensely, even though said friends were, for the most part, non-existent. “And I don't need this silly college... I haven't even gotten an acceptance yet.”

That was a fact.

“You're as good as accepted anyway. All that's missing is the letter. And believe me, you'll do just fine there. You can visit me anytime you want, and you'll be at my place on weekends anyway.”

It had already come to that, that she called it home. Just because she had been home there once. Mum had always told me she had lived there with a few friends during her studies. At some point, they had all finished and left the town, one after the other. I probably would have done the same. After all, who would want to be stuck in some kind of hick town?

A slight vibration jolted me out of my thoughts. A little surprised, I pulled my mobile phone out of my pocket and read the message.

Grinning, I typed my reply.

The message hadn't even been sent. I was starting to get seriously worried about the future of our friendship. After all, we wouldn't see each other for a very long time now. All that was left for us to do was chat and talk on the phone, which, as I had just noticed, could become a challenge.

Frustrated, I shoved my phone back into my pocket and sighed.

This could only get better.

“I had a lovely time in Blairville. And you'll soon find it's very idyllic there.”

Mum's words snapped me out of my thoughts and back into the uncomfortable present. I had to suppress my grin as I looked at her, aghast.

“Idyllic? I didn't know such words were part of your vocabulary, Mum.”

She mirrored my laughter, mine, intensifying. As I did so, a short brown strand fell into my face.

I had cut my hair a little shorter so that my dark brown waves only reached my shoulders. The long hair had simply interfered too much with my job. However, the problem had now solved itself. I would have to find something new to pay for all the books that made up a large part of my luggage.

“You'll make it, darling. I've made it, too, somehow...”

The melancholy I usually only noticed when asking questions about my father gave me a pause. I had started grilling my mother about him at an early age. Each time, I was rejected. And every time I asked, Mum disappeared into the garden in a bad mood for the rest of the day. Over time, I had started to keep the questions to myself, and the only thing I had found out so far was that he had run away to Europe and had never been in touch with her since. No address, no contact details... I didn't even know his name.

There were no other family members, at least not on my mother's side. Nevertheless, I never felt alone. The opposite was true. My mother and I maintained a close relationship, and so far, we have made it through every single life circumstance. There have been no troublesome divorces or family dramas – just my mum and me.

I had to swallow as I noticed a hot tear running down my right cheek. I quickly turned my head back toward the window so that I was protected from my mother's searching gaze. But to make matters worse, my right arm began to shake.

Calm down, Bay, not now... You know what happened last time, and that it scares Mum.

I looked at my wrist. Nothing.

“Bay? I told you not to scratch it. Doctor Gilson didn't prescribe your medication for nothing,” Mum snapped me out of my rigidity, and I bit the tip of my tongue in shock.

Ouch!

“I don't have any more pills. And I suppose I can't very well buy any in the wilderness.” I earned a disapproving look from my mother before she reached into her side compartment and pulled out a blue box.

“Seriously?” Where did she keep getting these new recipes? The restriction on the number of prescriptions a doctor could give a patient in a given time seemed to be something my mother could somehow get around.

And even though these pills prevented things from happening to my body that I was rapidly losing control over, I was paying a different price for them.

“Young lady, take your medication. Otherwise, you can forget about me driving you to university every time. There's an old bike in our garage, too!”

Not only her mischievous I'm-your-mother-and-you're-not-an-adult-yet-grin, but also my bewildered look spoke volumes.

I hated bicycles, and there was a good reason for that. I had been in an accident when I was four. I couldn't remember anything except the bike. My mother had then told me about the car and the slippery road. The reason why a six-centimeter-long scar stretched below my breast. From that day on, I had vowed to never sit my bum on one of those devilish things again.

Mum was still holding the pills out to me, looking worried, while at the same time concentrating on driving.

Reluctantly, I reached for the little box.

Bayla Adams was written in block letters on the label. The plastic box was still new and filled to the brim, as it always was when Mum gave me a new one.

I opened it, took out a pill, and swallowed it. Then I slammed the lit of the container shut again and put it in my jacket pocket. I had to think of something to get rid of these pills. And hopefully, this time, there wouldn’t be any new ones.

I must have fallen asleep because when I opened my eyes, we were no longer on the endless highway but on a two-lane road in the middle of the forest. The sunlight that had woken me made its way through the lush leaf canopy and tickled my skin.

A pleasant tingling sensation ran through me, and I sat up straight. Only now did I see the wide shore stretching a few meters beyond the trees, glimmering as if in an almost too-beautiful fairy tale. Although it was still summer, some of the leaves on the maple trees had turned yellow, making the picture even more beautiful.