Mrs All American ❅ Luke Hemmings

Sydney

Chapter 43 - Sydney

"Goddamn, it's dark outside." Jack grumbled as we trudged out to the area where people get reunited with family members and friends and such.

"Timezones suck, Jack. I basically just missed most of my birthday." I stated, eyes searching for my and/or Jack's name.

"Well, at least we had a mini celebration on the plane," He pointed out.

"True. That cupcake was pretty good." I agreed.

"Hey," Jack grabbed my forearm. "I think I see your mom," He dragged me along until I, too, saw her.

"Oh, yeah. There she is." I waved to her and smiled.

Once she noticed us, mom grinned widely and jumped up and down, waving her 'Rose Irwin & Jack V' sign around excitedly.

I could see Alyssa standing next to her, grinning and waving as well (I waved back), Maggie was at a snacks dispenser nearby, hitting the machine with her fist frustratingly, and the last person I could make out in the crowd of strangers was Alec, who was holding a sign of his own which read, 'FLOWER & DONKEY'.

I smirked at it.

Jack saw the sign and rolled his eyes. "Immature fuckface . . ." He muttered and hiked his backpack higher up his shoulder.

Needless to say, he was quite tired and agitated from the long flight. Still, Jack had to catch yet another flight back to London on his own.

"Are you sure you can't stay at my house for a night's rest?" I queried as we followed the long line of people to get all the legal shit out of the way.

"I mean, I'd love to but I don't think my-" His phone began buzzing in his pocket, cutting him off. "Hold on, speak of the devil." Jack retrieved his phone and answered the call.

"Y'ello." He spoke into the phone, his nonchalant expression instantly turning into a grimace when the person answered. "Hello, mother," Jack exhaled in annoyance. "Yes, yes, I'm coming back to London, but could I at least rest in Sydney for a night? Hell, a few hours? I've had a long flight, mom, I- Oh, you don't care, huh? She's not- I don't- No, she- Well, yes but- Fucking hell, woman! Let me speak, will you?!" Jack exploded.

I bit my lip and looked down at my shoes as we trudged on forward.

"Thank you," Jack muttered roughly into the phone and continued his conversation with his mother. "Here's what I want to say, I am not going to be a fucking doctor. I'm not going to a fucking medical school and I sure as hell am not getting a PHD, am I making myself clear? I will indeed go to London but you can not control my life to the extent of telling me to go to medical school and expecting me to numbly oblige.
"I'm not a child, I can make my own bloody decisions. If I wanted to, I could work as a damn waiter in fucking Paris or try out as an actor on Broadway so don't give me that 'you don't have a lot of options' speech, I know damn well that I have tons of choices and possibilities.
"So, in conclusion, I'm flying back to London tomorrow morning, I will scout for universities, attend one I like- or not, it's my choice, really- and whatever comes next, comes next. Try to control my life one more time and, I swear, I will cut you off for good and you won't ever hear from me again, mother. Oh, and I have to go through passport control now. Have a glorious day. Talk to you again real soon, mother dearest!" The sarcasm in his voice at the end was unbearable and I had to cough to stop myself from chuckling.

Jack finally ended the call and shoved his phone in his pocket. "Sorry that took so long. Mild technicalities," He smiled at me.

I nodded. "You sound very British when you're angry," I noted.