An Australian Love || A Robert Irwin Story

S I X

MARI

The school year is coming to an end, and I only have a few more weeks left before I get out. I've been checking my email everyday for the last three weeks, and yet I still don't see anything.

My last class has ended, and I'm walking out of class surrounded by fellow classmates. I'm extremely tired, and I just want to see that sacred email pop up in my inbox.

The sounds of teenagers laughing and talking loudly fills the hallway, and we're packed like sardines, everyone trying to push each other to get out of this hell hole. I hold on

Preparing for finals is beginning to take a lot out of us, and we all know that dead week is almost upon us.

My brain is on overload, and at this point, I'm ready to detatch from reality. Fucking math and history, who needs to know the inverse function of a parabola and the battle of Gettysburg? Not me, that's for sure.

The air is humid, with the bright sky shining bright rays upon my skin. A slow, cool breeze flows through my hair, and I take a deep breath before gliding through waves of people to get to my bus. As always, Mr. Price was waiting with a smile on his face and a poptart in his hand.

"For me Gregory? You shouldn't have." I smile and take the poptart from his hands before making my way to my seat, stepping over bags and feet. I sit down, throwing my legs onto the seat, trying to unwind before I'm forced to restart this headache I got going on. I close my eyes and put in my AirPods, turning on my unwind playlist.

"Is this seat taken?" I hear a voice asking.

Looking up, I smile and see Anthony. I move my legs and he sits down, pulling my legs onto his lap. He tells me to go to sleep, and I do just that. I fall asleep with my brown cinnamon sugar pop tart in my clutches.

"She's had a hard day, hasn't she?"

"They've had a hard couple of weeks. Especially after I told them I was moving."

"You're moving? When?"

"He's moving after the year ends." I come to my senses, and finally open my eyes, hearing the two talk.

All conversations cease, and I can feel the look of absolute pity Mr. Price is bestowing upon me.

I just want to get off this bus and run off the face of the earth. So that's what I do, except the face of the earth is my house. I grab my light grey bag, my poptart, and book it. I don't even step off the bus, and in stride, I run like there's no tomorrow. I don't want to be around him right now, he wasn't even going to tell me. He was just gonna up and leave, and that's what everyone does.

Hold on for a few more weeks. 20 more days, and then you're on a plane meeting some of your favorite people in the world.

I punch in the keycode on my door and unlock it, running inside and slamming it back shut. Locking it, I fall back with the door catching me. Out of breath, I slide down it until I reach the cold, hardwood floor.

My lungs feel on fire, like they're exploding. Fuck I need my inhaler.

I scramble to pull my bag off of me, the air becoming harder to grasp the longer I take. After what feels like a near death experience, I finally find the little red container. I shake it quickly to activate the battery acid, and I inhale. It's only after the second puff, and five minutes, that my breathing has gone back to normal.

I want to close my eyes and open them to the day I leave this damn country.

Why does everyone have to leave?

"Not everyone leaves you Mari." I hear his muffled voice through the wooden door.

"You didn't hear that. And go away. It's weird to be listening through someone's door."