Nine teenage girls and their leaders crowded onto outdated bench seats while the smell of various bagged dinners and chocolate filled the short bus we were taking. The vinyl seats creaked, the teenage girls laughed and the makeshift radio blared, we followed the boys in their SUV to Woodland Park. The brisk March wind shook the old windows of our borrowed little white and blue bus. Miles of winding roads and pine trees that seemed to pierce the low floating clouds lead us to our retirement home. The gravel crunched beneath our tires, hitting the sides of our bus, creating a rumble beneath our feet as we moved up the driveway. Large gray rocks outlined planters along the front of the patio, and knotted wooden planks covered all sides of the house. Two creaky trunks stood like guards on either side of the green door, supporting the green metal roof. Mirror-like widows reflected the fragrant pines and our breaths as we trudged across the still-frozen ground to the cement patio stairs. We entered into pure white walls and a grand staircase that split halfway leading left and right. Giant single-paned windows let in the fading sunlight while shouts of “Dibs!” » » were heard from every vanilla-scented room in the girls' wings upstairs, while the sounds of the boys' wrestling drifted from their wings downstairs. Soon all the good hiding places in the house were found and used in a competitive game of sardines. Several bodies of teenagers tried to gather under the beds or in the closets and cabinets. Hearts thumped and joints tensed at the sound of approaching footsteps while laughter was suppressed with toothy smiles. Once the sun set behind the mountains and it became too dark to see, we gathered middle of paper... ...between childhood and adulthood never lasts. In this cabin, whatever awaited us in town didn't matter. All the mistakes and difficulties we faced at home were not present here. Being an adult isn't as fun as growing up: these are the best days of our lives*. We were free, able to dream like children, but equipped with the resources to succeed like adults. It was our last weekend together as children. We were no longer insecure and immature. We had become mature adults. Those few late nights filled with secrets, fears, and candy shared by the light of flashlights brought us closer together as the early morning sunrises brought renewal and hope for better days to come. The only thing that matters is to follow your heart, and eventually you will get there*Works Cited*Song Lyrics from In This Diary (Best Days of Our Life) by Ataris