Home Away From Home

Chapter Ten

DAY TWENTY EIGHT

I woke up late today. Like really late. Like two in the afternoon late. Feeling terrible for sleeping through the day, I went downstairs to find that the house is empty. I nodded my head to myself. I could think of worse things.

I haven't had a day like this (sleeping in, home alone, still in my pajamas past noon, etc.) since I arrived in Australia. My eyes grew as I thought of everything I could do.  My first instinct was to head to the pantry to partake in one of my favorite cliches: eating nutella straight from the jar. 

I picked out a spoon and headed to the couch where I proceeded to mindlessly flip through channels until I settled on reruns of The Regular Show on Netflix. I wonder to myself if I'll ever grow out of cartoons.

Several episodes, enough spoonfuls for three families, and too much laughter at trivial humor later, I heard footsteps. Now, there is one thing I am truly afraid of and that is the dark. But with my fear of the dark comes a fear of the unknown. Footsteps in an empty house vastly surpasses unknown. I paused my show and looked around for any signs of an intruder. 

It would be just my luck to have a burglar come into the Hemmings' home while no one is around but me. I got off of the couch and picked up the nearest heavy object: a book on the side table. Slowly turning around to follow the sound, I looked up to see a figure decsending the staircase. Naturally, I jumped at the sound of his voice, but the only noise to follow was Luke's laughter.

"What are you doing?" He asked after he was done gasping for air between bursts of chuckles.

"What are you doing? I didn't think anyone was home." It's not like I'm embarrassed-- just caught off guard.

"Well you thought wrong." Luke was still reveling in my moment of fear as he stopped to look at me in my current state. "You're disgusting."

I frowned, but after looking down at my shirt and seeing the mess of chocolate and the crookedness of my shorts, I understood. But I embraced it. "That's not what you thought yesterday. Or earlier this week." I smirked, thinking I had out-smarted him. 

Luke rolled his eyes and walked out of the house. Looking good, I might add. What's up his butt?
I wondered where Luke wandered to, but I couldn't care too much. Afterall, it's not my business unless he wants it to be. (eye roll)

I smiled that smile that just kind of appears after a situation where you don't know what to do with yourself. My brother calls it my "Natural Greta" state. I resented him for years, thinking he was insulting me, but then I grew up and realized it's true. I'm cursed with the Awkward Gene, if there were ever such a thing. I truly hope it's a thing otherwise there's nothing left to blame for myself. 

Returning from My Natural State, I decided to explore the bits of Sydney everyone seems to walk past. I went upstairs and showered for an unneccessary amount of time. Showers are one thing people often overthink when traveling-- especially if you're staying with strangers. Back in America it's normal, though maybe sometimes frowned upon, to take thirty minute showers, but you go to some foreign country and thirty minutes is unheard of. 

Either way, I relished under the water for as long as I could without turning wrinkly. I put on my most tumblr-approved outfit and left the house with wet hair. There's something about going out with wet hair that is just so freeing. 

I left a note in case Liz or Andy came home to an empty house. "Out. Call if you need anything. :) -Greta"

My first stop was a small thrift shop/antique shop meets posh coffee shop. Though I found the aroma confusing (second-hand coffee is not as pleasurable as the average-day hipster might like to think), I was pleasantly surprised by what this place had to offer. I made a note to come back later with more money to buy half of the store for my sister.