Pathway || m.c

Part 5.

The house was quiet when I woke up. I was still tired, an occurrence that didn't happen with me a lot.

I knew I needed coffee in my system so I made my way down stairs, not caring if I woke anyone up. It was 10 to 8 anyway.

I had exactly 28 minutes before I needed to meet up with Michael, giving me plenty of time.

I made my coffee the way I liked it, putting two Pop Tarts into the toaster to be ready when I came back down.

I slipped into a pair of red skinny jeans and a plain black shirt. The weather was warm outside so I didn't bother with a jumper and threw my hair up into a messy bun. It was just one of those days.

My torn and tacky blue converse welcomed my feet into them as I packed everything I needed into my school bag, texting Sasha that I didn't need a lift.

I skipped back down the steps, taking them two at a time, being welcomed by the chocolatey smell of my ready Pop Tarts.

Sasha: I am high key offended. I'm seriously not that bad a driver am I?

I laughed, managing to finally leave the house with seven minutes to get to Michael's. I was still eating my Pop Tarts, enjoying the smell of the beach behind the houses I walked past. 

I had lived in this neighbourhood for as long as I could remember. Throughout the years, I had seen people come and go.

"Did you know Mrs Davis from down the road is moving out?" Mum commented, walking inside with her arms full of shopping bags. "I just bumped into her. She's moving to Melbourne in 3 days."

Mrs Davis is a family friend of ours. She always babysitted my brother and I when we were younger, so the whole family had grown up with her around us at some point.

"I'll pop in some time throughout the week on my way home," I told her, but I never followed through on my promise. 

Every person that I had known to ever live since I could remember had moved and we hadn't reached out to make friends with the new neighbours.

I reached Michael's house at 8.19, a minute to spare. The whole place looked lonely and quiet, the only noise playing behind his house as the waves crashed upon the shore. I sat on the edge of the road, picking at the grass. 

A few cars had passed me by as I continued to sit. I had been there for 3 minutes before Michael finally emerged from his house, things falling from his hands as he struggled with being late.

I took a look at his exhausted figure. He barely had his second shoe on, there were books over flowing in his hands that he hadn't had time to put in his bag. I felt bad for him, realising he wasn't ready because he needed to meet me at a certain time. 

"I'm sorry, I'm usually not ready at this time. Kind of a wake up call," he laughed nervously, putting the books in his bag. "I'm really sorry."

I laughed, finding the amusing side of things, "Hey, that's okay. I'm not usually ready at this time."

Sure, that was a little bit of an exaggeration but I really did feel bad for him. 

"Oh, well, that's a relief," he laughed, standing up straight and swinging his bag over his back. "Okay now I'm ready."

While we walked to school, we talked about a lot, from how Michael hadn't lived in Sydney his whole life to our goals for the future.

"It feels heaps different not being your tutor right now," he commented as the school came into view.

"Yeah, I've been thinking the same thing. Like, I didn't really ever take any notice of you around the school until I was introduced to you, and even then I didn't really see very much of you."