Forever Could Be Ours

Chapter 16. | Sunshine and Invites

HAYLEIGH

"For fuck sake, Hayleigh, where did you put it?"

I wouldn't categorise myself as someone who speaks to herself in stressful situations, but the pile of clothing on my bed explains my level of hassle. I've been dragging out every piece of clothing I own in search of my black denim jacket.

Couldn't I possibly wear something else? Sure. I would if I had the time to change into a different outfit. But I'm determined this fits best with denim and now I'm suddenly in a rush.

As in, I don't have the time to continue looking for a jacket I haven't worn for months and disappears the day I finally decide to wear it.

The CC booth opens in less than half an hour and if I'm late by just a second, I'll get a third strike. I might gather detention notes like lotto coupons but getting another strike from Audrey Kingston?

I'd rather be ten minutes early to the opening.

I don't know what happens after getting the third, but neither am I interested in jeopardizing the chance. Matty is driving us and if I don't find my jacket soon, I'll have to suffer through the soccer game clutching to a thin sweater - and it doesn't even have an actual purpose of a sweater since it's a wide-holed pullover.

I rush out of my bedroom, searching for my last chance for help. "Mum, did you wash denim today? I can't find my jacket."

I pause on the staircase when I see her scattered over her laptop with a face choked with tears. The flowers on our dinner table are withering just like her facial expression when our gazes meet.

"Mum?" My heart sinks. "What's wrong?"

"Blossom," She rubs her eyes and I try not to visibly ich at the nickname. I hate it.

When I was four visiting Japan for the first time and being too overly excited about seeing the cherry blossom trees, I peed my pants in the middle of the street.

The nickname Blossom has been stuck with me ever since.

"Is Dad okay?" My thoughts instantly innovate to whatever aeroplane catastrophe I can possibly think of. You would think I've gotten used to him working in the air all the time but it has its swarm of bad thoughts.

"Nich's fine. He's in Auckland."

The knot in my stomach still wrestles with my destructive thoughts, but my shoulders relax at the confirmation. But it doesn't help when Mum's otherwise confident posture and attitude are replaced with a blunt of sadness and guilt.

"I'm leaving for London today and I won't come home before after the break."

Realisation hits. "What?" My voice cracks. "Mum, you can't."

Ever since moving back to Australia, Mum and I created the tradition of going on a mother-daughter weekend trip to Bali for the Autumn break. Just the two of us connecting to add up for the 362 days a year where we barely see each other.

I sometimes still need to wrap my head around the fact that Australia has reversed seasons. It feels wrong to say Autumn is in April when most of your upbringing was in Europe.

"I know, I know," She gently caresses my cheek. "The guilt is eating me alive, but I have an important stupid conference I need to attend. I tried to get out of it, your dad even tried to reschedule some of his flights to take my spot, but it wasn't possible."

I get her frustration, she hates disappointing. But a part of my heart feels shattered at the news and I can be overly emotional when it comes to my family. But I don't want to cry in front of Mum.