Baking With Boys |✔

1. Buttercream Cookies

"Why does it matter what I am wearing when I'm just coming home?" I whined into my phone and suppressed the urge to end the call. The train's momentum had me plastered to my seat and I gripped the armrest for support. The small solace of traveling by train was that I got the whole compartment to myself. No tension of false pleasantries, awkward conversations, or creepy stalkers.

"Well, it does! What are you wearing again?" My mother's voice, as sweet as her bakery, came through the loudspeaker. I pondered over the question, my eyes glued to the ugly looking patch on the adjacent wall, trying to determine the story behind it.

"Oh, this old sundress you picked out for me two years ago. The one with strawberries on it," I mumbled, trying to sound sleepy.

Well, given it was quarter to one a.m. I was entitled to be sleepy. But who was I kidding? I had never slept before two in my entire life. But my mother didn't need to know that little detail.

"Ty! I told you, you'll catch a cold! Take out socks from your luggage and wear them before the AC gives you hypothermia." I rolled my eyes but still got up and made a few noises to let her know that I was indeed wearing my socks.

"Done. Happy?" I said into the phone. Resting my head back on the corner of the seat, I stretched out my legs. A few bones popped at the movement and I winced at the sound.

Here it comes.

"Tyler Marie Anderson, have you not been exercising?" she spoke again, and I cursed under my breath. I had promised her that I would exercise daily when I was at the hostel. But to be honest, it had been a good three months since I had seen the gym.

"Fine! I didn't! Mom, can you please let me sleep now? I will be home in a few hours anyway. You can scold me however you want and as much as you want, then." The fact that I was on the chubbier and the lazier side wasn't a secret, and I knew her intention was for me to get healthier. But changes didn't happen overnight. Neither physically nor psychologically.

"Okay, take care," she said and gave up on the argument. "Lock your compartment door. Good night."

I mumbled a goodnight back and ended the call. "Phew," I said aloud, and then grudgingly got up. My bones cracking again and I locked the door to my train compartment. Not that I'd tell her I did.

It's spring break again, I thought with a smile on my face. The fantasies of sleeping in for as long as I wanted, the refreshing thought of no more Monday morning classes, and finally breaking the monotony of my routine thrilled my heart. My gratitude towards the inventor of the stupid breaks was too much as I laid down on the seat, and closed my eyes for a while.

*****

I pulled on my luggage and heaved a sigh as it got stuck on a small stone. Carrying one trolley, two handbags, and a carry bag was a little hard, even if I won't admit it aloud. Getting a taxi was rare in this town, and I had rather walk home from the railway station than waste money on a fifteen-minute ride.

Looking around the familiar surroundings, I smiled, filled with a sense of belonging. It was as if the whole town was celebrating my arrival back home. The ocean filled the air with its fresh and salty scent. The background music was the soft sound of the waves, crashing on each other, increasing their tempo as my steps advanced. Even the palm trees danced in the light breeze as I passed by them. With a skip of my step, I embraced nature.

Though I was coming back home after eight months, it felt like I had been there just yesterday. I had left as a junior and was back as a senior, making it the longest time I had lived away from home.