While the Sun Shines

1.

The sea of people at Schiphol airport was endless. Hasty phone-calls, crying children, and excited chatter echoed through the baggage claim area, and everyone seemed to be in a hurry to catch their train or bus. People shot past Nick left and right to snatch their suitcase from the conveyer belt and dash. 

They had places to be. Nick didn't. Not really. If he didn't show up at the apartment he rented for the semester, the landlord wouldn't have any issues finding another student to take his place. Nick would only lose his deposit, which was his parents' money. They had paid for everything; the plane ticket, the apartment, his school, and his football classes. What a waste. 

The only reason Nick didn't slouch down on a bench and just sat there all afternoon was not wanting to explain to his parents why he didn't go to his apartment. Why he didn't go through all the necessary motions while he was the one who had requested studying abroad for a semester.

Supposedly, playing tourist in another country was an enriching and eye-opening experience which taught you a lot about yourself. But on his way out of Schiphol airport, Nick Walsh swore he wasn't going to be a dumb tourist during his time in the Netherlands. He wasn't like other people who fled home and went abroad for a couple of months to 'find themselves' during the 'enriching' experience. 

For starters: 'finding yourself' western style usually involved disrespectfully touching a Buddhist monk's head, and snatching kids away from their mom for a dumb Instagram picture. Basically, it meant act like a complete douchebag once you crossed the border and come back with bullshit stories how meditating on the Himalayas surrounded by goat herders who only owned the clothes on their back really taught you the value of life. 

Nick wasn't going to touch anyone's head. Or snatch children to look good on his social media feeds. And if he needed to see poor people to realise how fortunate he was, he only needed to step outside and travel to the inner city at home. 

All Nick was going to do was go to college and follow lectures. Maybe he'd hit the club and act like a drunk idiot every once in a while, but that was it.

My reasons for leaving home are absolutely different, Nick told himself again as he boarded the train alongside all the other passengers and their hefty suitcases.

He didn't want to find himself; he wanted others to forget about him. 

Going to the Netherlands for the semester was a reset of sorts. Here, in the train to the South, the faces around Nick were neutral and unfamiliar. He was just a passing face in the crowd to them. He'd keep to himself at college too. 

The train wasn't super crowded, and Nick took a seat at the window. When the train left the airport's station and they zoomed out of the dark tunnel, he snapped a quick picture and sent it to his parents to show he'd landed safely. Then he made himself comfortable in his seat and stared outside through the window. 

Nick had it all planned out. The big disappearance. He would only take the bare minimum of pictures, text the bare minimum of words to keep his friends satisfied. Slowly, he'd stop contacting them all together until they forgot he existed even after he went home. He'd drop everyone except for his best friend, Sem. But Sem understood he needed space and would leave him alone. 

"Mommy! Mommy, look!" a kid screamed when the train took off from the next station, Bijlmer ArenA.

The kid pressed his face against the window. His mom immediately pulled him away.

"That's dirty, Tim, don't press your face against the glass," she scolded him.

"But mommy, look," Tim said, squishing his grubby fingers against the window instead. "It's a football stadium! Can we go there? I want to play!"