From Seattle, With Love

Prologue

She's calling.

The woman who birthed me is probably crossing her arms over her chest while holding the phone on the other right now, trying to reach my line and getting frustrated because after nine missed calls, I finally found the will to answer it.

"Coen, where are you? We're on the way to the airport now. Do you still have plans to show up and join us here?" she sounded a bit upset.

I gripped on the steering wheel with my right hand and stepped on the gas enough to speed up the car. 

"I'm in Bellevue. Can't make it to the airport," I answered.

"You're in--" she paused. "God, Adam! He's in Bellevue!" she told my dad who was probably just beside her. "The last time I called you were in Redmond with Jonas. Why are you in Bellevue now?"

"Plans change, mom."

"Is coming home to your family also part of that plan? Or perhaps you want to add on that plan of yours the idea of showing up on important family matters?" 

I hissed over the line and she probably heard it.

"Family matters, huh?" sarcasm hanged on the edge of my sentence.

"Yes! This is a family event, Coen. Agree to it or not you have to come home," she insisted.

I placed my phone on a speaker mode and positioned it on top of the dash. The traffic signals switched to a red so I got a time to lean my back on my seat while listening to my mother's non-stop rap about family events and this and that.

She calls it a family event when it's only just them picking an ordinary someone at the airport; Someone we don't even know; Someone from the other side of the world who is indirectly seeking a home in this country for a privilege only them can benefit. 

Not a single cell in my brain understands the purpose of them agreeing to become a host family for an exchange student. It just adds up to their expenses and responsibilities. Moreover, it would put our security at stake. We don't know where that person is coming from. We don't know what kind of person he is. He could be a thief, a con-artist, or worse... a murderer. 

I know there's an agency or an organization managing programs like that and making sure that they only pick the best that fits their standard. But I couldn't help but think of the worst cases. It's our family being held responsible here and we could also be the victim should there be any shortcomings of the screening. A lot could possibly happen once our door is already open.

I continued driving when the light hit green. Mom was busy saying something over the phone but I didn't give my full attention to her. Not only because I wasn't interested with this idea they came up with, but mostly because I didn't like it. At all.

"Are you listening to me, Coen? Hello?" 

"Yes, mom. Loud and clear," I answered and sighed. "I have to end this call."

"What? No unless you tell me you're coming home in thirty min---"

I ended the call right away without letting mom finish her sentence. I placed my phone on airplane mode again before stepping on the gas and making a speed she'd probably hate if she was here. 

Upon arriving at the beach, I saw some good friends huddling around someone else's car. I could easily recognize Jonas because of his unique curls that make him different from the rest of the people around him. I also saw Harvin and Tod with some girls beside them. Some faces looked familiar from some parties I attended to before. I could also see people near the shore partying around a bonfire with drinks on their hand. Some are busy dancing while majority are just sitting on the sand, talking stars with someone beside them.