New Kid

Saying Goodbye

Ethan's P.O.V.

I dragged my suitcase up the escalator hastily, not bothering to wait. My parents tagged along after me, my twin brother behind them. I was surprisingly energetic today, considering the circumstances. That's probably due to the three cups of black coffee I had had earlier. Like, I'm not even sure that's legal. 
When I got to the top of the escalator, after battling my way through gazillions of people, it occurred to me how sad it is that my last taste of Canada was this: busy Montreal Airport, home to surprisingly expensive trashy bookstores, numerous fast-food chains and several thousand angry, sweaty people. Great.
We reached security, and I placed my old and tattered suitcase, followed by my (luckily) not as tattered carrier bag. A red light flashed as I stepped through the gate, and a lady with blonde hair asked me politely to step to the side. I sighed. I must be a living chunk of metal or something, because EVERY SINGLE DAMN TIME I'm in an airport, I get checked by security. Seriously, like ever since I was ten. EVERY SINGLE DAMN TIME.
The security woman, who told me her name is Paulette, started patting me down all over with her squeaky latex gloves. 'Don't worry sweetie,' she said in accented English. 'This won't take a minute.' I grunted
embarrassedly, highly aware that my face had turned scarlet.
After I collected my bag and escaped Paulette, who I thought was getting just a little bit handsy, we were on our way. Well, not exactly. I was starving. Seriously though, I was about to drop like a fly. I waited up a little for my mom. I wasn't talking to my dad for now, since it was his stupid career that required us to move to Ireland anyway.
Mom finally caught up, and I resumed walking, hitching my backpack up onto my shoulders, talking a mile-a-minute.
'So, I don't know about you, but I'm, like, really hungry. So there's a sandwich place up here, if I remember correctly.... Um, are you okay mom?' I inquired, referring to her mouth, which was contorted into an 'O'. She kinda looked like a fish. 'Wow Ethan, you are taking this well. You're pretty much buzzing head to toe with energy. You know, considering, Paulette the perv and all,' she laughed. 'Plus we had breakfast two hours ago. I remember offering you waffles.' She looked at me and said with a knowing lilt in her voice, 'Did you actually have anything, Ethan?'
I turned scarlet, which I do when I'm guilty. 'Um... coffee. Three cups. But I did have a waffle,' I said, raising my hands up slowly, which I didn't realise I was doing. Mom raised one eyebrow, which she was an expert at. 'I really need to start hiding the Nescafé. Here's.....'
She paused while digging in her pocket. 'Here's four dollars. Buy yourself a sandwich or something. You really need to start eating more.' I sighed. Not this again. 'That's why I want to get food here. And eat it, thus letting me avoid hunger which, I'm sure you'll remember, is very important for a teenage boy...' I took the money from her and started walking towards the direction of the sandwich shop. Godddd. Like would she just leave it alone?
The queue was enormous, so I joined the back and decided to call Emily, my best friend, who I would probably never see again (mentally insert a sad emoji of your choice here).
I slid my phone out of my ass pocket and went into the contact list. I selected her name, and put my phone to my ear. It rang three times, and half-way through the fourth, she picked up. 'Ethan? Is that you? Last time I heard, you were leaving the country.' I sighed. 'Yeah. We're boarding our plane in two hours.'

There was a brief pause.

'I'm going to miss you,' she said. 'Like when you go on holidays, I miss you. But now I'm going to properly miss you. Like what if I never see you again? What then, hm?' It had never really occurred to me how sad this really is. After another pause, longer this time, I said something. 'Don't be silly, Em, of course we'll see each other again.'
Even I didn't sound convinced when I said it. I heard her sigh on the other end of the line. This phone conversation was starting to have a disturbing amount of sighing. She broke the silence. 'I haven't got any other friends. You're the only one I have. You were also my only chance of getting laid.' That was a joke. At least I hoped so. I laughed, and she did too. 'That may be true,' I said jokingly. 'But we'll Skype as often as we can, okay? Okay?' I heard her sniffling. 'I've-I've gotta go. Bye.' She hung up. Suddenly the atmosphere of the coffee shop, the bustle of everyday life, returned. I was closer to the front of the queue now. When it was my turn, I ordered a tuna melt and some Diet Coke (I thought I was done with coffee for the day). The man gave me my food and I went outside, away from the clattering of cutlery and chattering of voices, away from the place where I realised the sudden direness of my situation.
I found my mom waiting for me outside, my brother Alex beside her, tapping away on his phone. Even though we were twin brothers, we were far from identical. Both in appearance and in personality. Alex had sandy blond hair and an easy smile, as opposed to my chestnut brown hair and generally pissed-off face. He had loads of friends here in Canada, so I guessed that he wasn't exactly thrilled to be moving either. He was pretty much a 'glass half full' guy.
My mom tapped him on the shoulder, alerting him that he had to come back to the real world and away from the world of instagramming or whatever. The conversation was pretty awkward as we continued to walk along, presumably because they were both cranky and tired, and I was just cranky. It went a little like this:
Me: *takes bite of sandwich* *shakes head in disbelief of disgustingness of said sandwich* Want some?
Alex: ( - )
Mom: ( - )
Me: Alex, I'm talking to you.
Alex: Nope. I'm good.
Me: Okey dokey
*awkwardness ensues as we trudge through airport*
Me: So... Where's dad?
Mom: He went on ahead to the gate.
Me: *nods*
Me: So I was talking to Emily while I was in the queue at the café-
Mom: Ethan, I really don't care. I've got your brother glued to his phone, and then there's you, as chipper as a ferret, taking ages in coffee shops for a mediocre sandwich and a Coke that looks like diarrhoea.
Alex: What she said.
Me: *shuts the hell up, slightly scared that either my mom or my brother are going to kill me.