Boy Who Has Everything

1

You were asleep most of the flight to Brighton. Every now and then, the sleep would weaken and you would break out of it just to use the bathroom or eat whatever was available. Quickly, however, you would fall asleep again. You would do that every year; sleeping on the plane on the way to your dad's house.

Your mom and dad had been separated since you were little and with an ocean between the two of them, combined with joint-custody, life had been a bit stressful especially for a sixteen year old. Moving every year was tiring after a while, but you did enjoy seeing your father. He was your favorite of your two parents. Your mother was a bitter woman who was tired and exhausted with life so you couldn't say the same for her.

When you were little, around your friends you would call her "other mother", comparing her to the Beldam from Coraline. She wasn't the nicest woman on the world. Not that she was physically abusive, she just didn't get along with you all too well. Mother knew you weren't all too fond if her either, so that most likely fueled the fire of her sour nature towards you.

Currently you were sitting in the waiting area of the airport, half asleep with your head limp on your shoulders. Sleep was so easy to catch and lose grip of sometimes. The spell of sleep kept you dozing off and waking up every now and then. It wasn't until your phone started ringing that you woke up almost fully. You made sure to keep the volume high just in case you fell asleep again. Knowing yourself, you did.

You sluggishly went for your phone and blinked your eyes into focus so you could see who it was that was trying to get in contact with you. You already assumed it was your father, but it's never bad to be too sure. Of course again, you were right. You answered and brought the corner of the phone pressed into your ear.

"Hello?" You answered groggily.

"Good morning, pumpkin!" Said your father happily. "I'm here. Where ya at?" He asked. His British accent was just as strong as you remember it being, but still understandable.

"Yeah, I'm in the... the waiting area." You said, struggling to answer as you were still waiting for the delirious state of unconsciousness to fully wear off.

"Alright, I'm near the gift shop, so why don't you come over here?" He asked. His voice had an excited edge which made you happy to hear that he was happy for you to be here.

"Yeah, of course." You replied as you stood up, swinging your Jansport backpack over your shoulder and extending and grabbing the handle of your rolling suitcase. "Do you want me to stay on call? Or...?"

"Um, yeah, whatever works for you. I'm just happy you're here!" Your dad said, a smile apparent in his voice.

"Aw." You chuckled. "But, yeah, I'll see you when I get there."

"Oh, alright." Said your father. "Bye, love you, pumpkin."

"Love you, too." You told him genuinely. "Bye."

"Bye!" You're father cut in one last time, earning another soft chuckle from you before you brought your phone away from the corner of your ear. After pressing hang up, you stuffed your phone in the pocket of your hoodie and began to walk in the direction your father said he was in.

The stroll there was just as boring as it was every year. It was uninteresting seeing people coming and going. Usually walking by a diverse crowd could be interesting, but seeing people just as groggy, if not groggier than you, was bland to the eye. Most of them were makeup-less and wearing sweatpants, sometimes just straight up pajamas. You couldn't blame those people, though. You were sure you looked just as boring in the hand-me-down basketball shorts from your older brother and a hoodie with some converse. Definitely not dressed to impress.

Eventually as you weaved your way through the crowd, you managed to see your father. Once he spotted you too, he grinned from ear to ear and he began to wave almost obnoxiously. It was embarrassing, but that's what fathers do, right? Embarrass their daughters? Boy, did he do the job well sometimes.

He did eventually stop when you got close enough to embrace, to which you gladly accepted.

"Oh! I've missed you, darling!" Your father said as he hugged you dear. "You've grown so much!"

"I literally haven't, but okay!" You exclaimed jokingly, matching his tone and volume, earning a laugh from your father. You felt it bubble up in his chest as he rocked side to side with you in the hug.

"Alright. Ready to go home?" Father asked with the same grin as he pulled away. You gave him a sleepy nod, to which he chuckled. "Okay, let's get going then, shall we?"

"M'kay." You replied in a half-mumble.

Your father began to walk with you on his side outside of the airport, to the parking lot, then to your dad's car. Sitting in the right side passenger seat was strange, but nothing you wouldn't get used to in a week or two. That is if you even get in the car at all. Some summers, everywhere you went, you walked.

With your father now in the driver's seat, he began to drive off to your home. It was around this time that you started zoning out, thinking about life. Remembering the past summers you stayed, it only reminded you of an old friend who ghosted you recently. You didn't know what you did to Amanda to get her to stop responding, she just... did.

"Excited your back home?" Your dad asked, to which you dismissively hummed a yes. "Anyone you're looking forward to seeing?"

"Not really." You replied to your father's surprise.

"Oh, thats strange. What about Mrs. Fletcher?" Asked father.

"Oh, of course I'm excited to see Mrs. Fletcher! She's basically family at this point." You replied, smiling when you remembered the kind elderly woman who owned the local craft store. "Don't you agree?"

"Hmm, I suppose." Your father chuckled. "What about, let's see, Amanda?"

All he received was silence from you. You hadn't told him about your strange and sudden falling out. You didn't want to talk about it, but in order to keep him from asking again, you deflected the question.

"Dad, I haven't seen Amanda since, like, last summer." You said as you watched the buildings pass and the people on the pavement along with them.

"That doesn't mean you can't not be friends." He replied. "Haven't you been keeping in contact?"

"Yeah." You lied. You weren't sure why, you just did. "I guess."

"Hmm." Your dad hummed, but stayed silent.

Not wanting to continue the conversation, you reached over to the radio to raise the volume of whatever song was playing. Levitating by Dua Lipa was the local radio station's song of choice at the moment. It wasn't a bad song, so you stared and watched outside the window as you bounced your leg along to the bouncy rhythm.