Kindan

DOS

DOS

Growing up, I've realised that life is a little too chaotic, and if you wish to hold a reign over it, you might as well develop some strong principles. Everyone has principles. Some simply seem to be blissfully unaware of their own. It makes it easier for them to stumble once a while, to cast their principles aside.

And that is a terrible recipe for disaster, or so was I taught growing up.

The first principle of my life happened to be routine. I need a plan. More often than not people fail to understand how powerful a plan can be. More often than not they fail to realise just how much extra mental work they have to put up in order to get things done without a plan.

With things planned, you don't have to think too much. You already know what to do, what to expect and how to manage yourself. However, it does have a con—one that is too hard to neglect. When things change, you need to plan again. When routines change, you need to rebuild them. Yesterday night would be a perfect example as such.

Now there were two new variables in my life, in my plan. And I needed to figure those two out—Mark and his daughter.

'Made you a cheese sandwich this time <3 Stop skipping your breakfasts'

I crumpled the sticky note, grabbing the sandwich that mom left on the kitchen counter. The bread was still warm to the touch. She must've left a little late just to make me a sandwich. I knew it. She did it on purpose.

Chuckling, I went around the house doing my usual morning chores. Of course, I wouldn't skip my breakfast today, not when she'd cooked for me. And she knew it very well.

Over the years, I'd seen- I'd felt mom shrink further into her work. It's never easy to build your own conglomerate, much less a business. And she had to do it all, aside from taking care of me. Coming home late at night, and leaving before I even woke up—I'd seen it all.

But she had made sure to spend whatever little time she'd left out of her schedule with me. As a child, it didn't sit so well with me. But the more that I grew, the more that I understood. At the end of the day, she was a just human being too. She was giving her all, doing it all for the two of us.

But last night. . .

I sighed, pouring myself a glass of milk. There was no use thinking about the two new variables, and perhaps what she did was for the best. It didn't take me long to pack my bag and leave for school.

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Junior year is no joke. Managing classes, partaking in extra-curriculars, and there's the school committee too. The college entrance preparations could have a whole essay of rant about them. I wish we'd be given such topics to write about, perhaps it'd be easier to channelise our thoughts onto the blank forbidding piece of paper then.

"I never knew we had classes in common" The cedar scent enveloped me, as the guitarist slid in next to my seat, "Well, at least until the Dinner happened."

Her voice had a tinge of honey-like melody.

"Only if you'd pay more attention in class, Sinclair. . ." I clapped back, watching ghost of a smile shadow her face. We'd been getting along quite alright since last night. Her presence wasn't uncomfortable, and she sure knew how to keep a conversation interesting.