the long way home [ h.s. ]

Sixteen | 16

sixteen | 16

☓

I wake early, my pillow clutched tightly to my chest, and the world is still dark. It wasn't easy for me to fall asleep last night. My whole body was buzzing; it was unlike anything I've ever felt before.

Today is Friday, one week before the end-of-year carnival that Leanne convinced me to plan with her. There's a meeting today for it; to be truthful, I'm not really sure how much the meetings matter anymore. For the most part everything has been laid out.

It'll open around six o'clock in the evening, and end at nine thirty. Leanne is so excited, I swear she could pop like a balloon. It was really her that did most of the coordinating, along with five other people I don't know. I just smiled, nodded at her ideas, put up some posters after school.

That was mostly it.

I shower quickly, pulling my wet hair into two French braids and throwing on a simple pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. I don't mind the way I dress too much. Personally, I care more about being comfortable than being fashionable. Mom always goes out and buys me new clothes when (really) I don't need them. It makes me feel a little guilty sometimes, so I never leave things to hang unworn.

I lace up my shoes and grab my backpack, which sits in the loneliest corner of my room, untouched.

Only one more day, and then I'm free.

Making my way downstairs, I keep light on my feet, because the steps are noisy and I don't want to disturb Thomas. From his room, I can hear him stirring. His books and things sit out on the kitchen counter from last night. Silently, I pick them up and place them next to his bag, and pour him a glass of orange juice.

Then I leave.

The bus comes a little later than usual, leaving me out in the chill for longer than I would've hoped. I pass the time by observing the trees, Mom's flowers, the pink and white sky. From here, on our hill, I see the brown roof of the church. This Sunday, my parents are going to brunch with some old family friends, meaning that Thomas and I will go to the service alone.

Thomas loves going to church.

He loves the music, the candles, the large wooden piano.

There's just something about it that makes him feel comfortable and safe. I like when it's all of us; Mom, Dad, Thomas and I. The springtime usually breaks up our routine. Dad's construction work picks up, as well as Mom's volunteering at the community garden about 20 minutes from where we live.

My parents are already trying to change some of their plans in order to have as much time with me as possible before the school year ends. As much as I reassure them  that we have all summer, they brush it off.

I know it's hard for them.

Me, going to college.

At some point, when I see the yellow lights from the bus come into view, I readjust my backpack over my shoulder; reminding myself to spend the evening with them tonight.

☓

When we get to the dirt path, I see Harry walking down slowly, his hair still wet from a shower. He's clad in black jeans and a light gray sweatshirt; on his feet are shoes that look fairly new.