classic » liam payne au

back to campus

It had been about two weeks since I got back home, and I found myself packing my things back up to move into my dorm. School was starting in a few days and I needed to get set up.

My mum had gone through her usual routine of crying hysterically and begging me to stay at home. It was heart-warming, really, that she wanted me at home so badly. After rubbing her back for a good half hour, I finally convinced her to help me pack up.

“We should have some mother-daughter time before you leave,” she says, opening a drawer and taking some of my pajama shirts out of it.

“It’s just you and me here,” I laugh. “It’s always mother-daughter time.”

“I know,” she sighs. “But I mean, we should go out! Do something fun. Maybe go for lunch, stop at the bakery…” she suggested, shrugging.

“Alright, sure, mum. As soon as we’re finished packing up.” I agree, giving her a smile. “When is Mark coming down?” I ask in regards to my older brother, who lived in Charfield closer to my dad with his fiancée.

“He and Charlotte are supposed to visit next weekend, they’re coming Saturday and leaving Sunday evening.”

“Oh,” is all I say. My brother and I used to be closer, but when our parents divorced he chose to stay with my dad, and I, with my mum. So as the years passed, we grew apart. Now we only see each other when he visits mum or when I visit dad – and both occasions are fairly rare. I mean, he had been with Charlotte for seven months before my mum and I had finally met her. I only saw her for the second time when I was with my dad a couple weeks ago.

Half an hour later, three suitcases are packed with all of my things, and I place them on my bed. “Well, wanna go out now?” I ask her, wiping my hands off on my jeans.

“Sure, I’ll just grab a sweater.” she says, leaving my room to go down the hall to her room.

I go downstairs without her and slip on my boots before shrugging on my jacket and slinging my cross-body bag on. She appears at the stairs and makes her way down, grabbing her keys off the stand next to the front door and leading us out.

The walk into town is quick but feels slower because it’s the first actual conversation my mother and I have had since I got back that didn’t involve her crying and begging me to stay.

“…then he was giving this long lecture about this book from like 1945 and everyone around me was so bored but I was following along in my book and it was actually so interesting!” I was telling her stories about my professors and classes, and she actually seemed to be engaged.

“Y’know, I think I might have read that book before! Sounds familiar,” she says, and before I answer her, my nostrils take in the smell of the bakery and my eyes flutter shut.

“C’mon!” I grab hold of her forearm, dragging us down the sidewalk until my hand makes contact with the door.

Clarissa isn’t working, so a different girl gives us our coffee and muffins, but it still tastes just as phenomenal.

“I swear, Julie must have some sort of God-given talent with baking.” my mum concludes, taking another bite of her banana-chocolate chip muffin. Julie runs the bakery, she came up with all the recipes, and there was a secret ingredient incorporated into every item on the menu that added an extra something.

“Mm,” I mumble, swallowing a bite of my cinnamon-blueberry muffin and taking a sip of my coffee to wash it down. “You know where we should go after this?” she waits for me to continue. “The record shop down the street. You’d love it there. Plus, you really need some good music in that house of yours.”