''Everyone thinks it was because of the snow. And in a way, I think that's true.''
I wake up this morning with snow covering our front lawn. It isn't even an inch, but in this part of London, it brings everything to a standstill as the snowplow in the country gets busy clearing the roads.
It is enough snow to cancel school tho. My little brother, Louis, lets out a loud whoop when Mom turns the radio harder for us to hear the announcement.
''Snow day!!'' he screams. ''Dad, let's go make a snowman!!''
My dad smiles down at him while he taps his pipe.
He started smoking recently to pull of this whole 1950's, Father Knows Best look. He also wears bow ties. I mean, i like bow ties but who wears them now a days? right, no one. I think it's my dad's way of announcing that he used to be a punker but is now a middle-school English teacher, or if becoming a teacher has actually turned my dad into this, genuine throwback. But I quite like the smell of the pipe to be honest. It'sweet and smoky, and reminds me of the winter.
''You can try Lou,'' Dad tells him. ''But it's hardly sticking to the ground, so I don't think we can make a snowman right now.''
I can tell my Dad is happy, even tho there lies barely an inch of snow means that all the schools in the country are closed, including my high school and the middle school where my dad works, so it's an unexpected day off for him, too.
My mother, clicks off the radio and pours herself a second cup of coffee.
''Well, if you guys are playing lazy today, no way i'm going to work. It's simply not fair nor right.'' She picks up her cellphone and calls her work. When she's done , she looks at us.
''Should I make breakfast?''
Dad and I look at each other, sighing, No offence by the way.
To clarify , my Mom does make the best cereal and coffee in the world, but that's about it. My Dad's the cook in the family.
Pretending not to notice us, she reaches into the cabinet for the pancake mix.
''Please, how hard can it be? So, who wants some pancakes?''
''I do! I do!!'' Louis yells. ''Can we have chocolate chips in them!?'' He asks happily.
''I don't see why not,'' Mom replies smiling back at him.
''Woo Hoo!!'' Louis yelps, waving his arms in the air.
''You have way too much energy for this early in the morning.'' I tease him. I turn to face my Mom. ''Maybe you shouldn't let Lou drink so much coffee.''
''I've switched him to decaf,'' Mom answers with a laugh. ''He's just naturally hyper and active, love.''
''As long as you don't switch me to decaf, I'm happy.'' I say.
''That would be child abuse.'' Dad says jokingly.
Mom hands me a steaming mug, real coffee, and the newspaper.
''There's a nice picture of your young man in there.'' she says.
''Really? A picture?''
''Yep. It's about the most we've seen him since the summer.'' Mom says, giving me a sidelong glance with her eyebrows arched, her version of a subtly stare.
''I know,'' I say, without meaning to, I sigh.
Harry's band, The White Eskimo's, is one of the fast rising bands now a days, which is an awesome thing - mostly.
''Ah, fame, wasted on the youth.'' Dad says while smiling. I know he's excited for Harry, even proud I think.
I skip through the newspaper to the calendar section. There's a small blurb about The White Eskimo's, with an even smaller picture of the four of them. The bit about them basically says that local band The White Eskimo'sis opening for this big band Little Mix on the UK leg of Little Mix's world tour.
It doesn't mention the even-bigger-to-me news that last night The White Eskimo's headlined at a club in Cardiff and, according to the text Harry send me at midnight, sold out the whole place.
''So, are you going tonight?'' Mom asks.
''I was planning to. It depends if they shut down the whole state because of the snow.''
''It is approaching a blizzard.'' Dad says, pointing to a snowflake that is floating its way to the ground.
''I'm also suppose to rehearse with some violinist from the college that Professor McClain dug up.''
Professor McClain, a retired music teacher at the university who I've been working with for over the last few years, is always looking for victims for me to play with.
''Keep you sharp so you can show all those Julliard snobs how it's done.'' She says.
I haven't gotten into Julliard yet, but my audition went really really well. River Flows In You from Yiruma had flown out of my like never before.
When I'd finished playing, my legs shaking from pressing them together so hard, one judge had clapped a little, which I guess doesn't happen very often. When I walked off the podium i just played in, the same judge had told me that it had been a long time since the school had that kind of talent.
''I need more coffee. Anyone else?'' Mom asks.
I sniff the coffee, the rich, black French roast we all prefer. The smell only perks me up. ''I'm going back to bed,'' I say. ''My piano is still in reparation, so I can't even practice.''
''No practice? For twenty-four hours? Thank the Lord,'' Mom says while she pretend to pray.
Though she had learned to love classical music over the years -''It's like learning to appreciate stinky cheese''- she's been a not-always-so-happy audience for many of my marathon rehearsals.
I hear a sound coming from upstairs what sounds like a cat that's dying or something. Louis is playing, well trying to play, his guitar. It used to belong to Dad. It was his back when he played guitar in a big-in-the-town, unknown-anywhere-else band.
Dad grins at Louis' noise, and seeing that , I feel the familiar pang in my heart.
I know it's silly but I've always wondered if Dad is disappointed that I didn't become a rock chick. I'd meant to, but something else got my eye.
In third grade, I'd wandered over to the piano in music class. It looked like if you played it, it would tell you secrets or stories, so I started playing. It's been almost ten years now, and I still play it non-stop.
''So much for going back to sleep.'' Mom yells over Louis' noise while rubbing her forehead.
''What do you think, the snow's already melting.'' Dad says, puffing on his pipe. I go to the back door and peek outside. The sunlight has broken through the clouds. It doesn't look like snowing or freezing anymore. I close the door and go back to the table were I was sitting on before.
''I think the country overreacted, there's barely any snow outside.'' I say.
''Maybe, but they can't un-cancel school. What's done is done, and I already called in for the day off.'' Mom says.
''True, but we might can make use of the opportunity and go somewhere,'' Dad suggested. ''Take a drive, I mean. Visit my old band mates.''
''We can stop at the MusicBarn on the way back,'' Mom says.
The MusicBarn is a giant, dusty and old music store. In the back they keep a stash of twenty-five-cent classical records that nobody ever seems to buy, except me. I keep a pile of them hidden under my bed. A collection of classical records is not something you must show to everyone you know.
I've only shown them to Harry, but that was only after we'd already been together for like five months. I honestly had expected him to laugh about them. He's such a cool guy with his skinny jeans, his almost-till-the-end-up-buttoned-up shirts and his ooh so amazing tattoos.
He is so not the kind of guy you think someone like me would end up with. Which is why, when i first spotted him watching me at the music studios at school two years ago, I'd been convinced he was making fun of me. So I ended up hidden from him.
Anyway, He hadn't laughed about it, at all! It turned out he had a dusty collection of puck-rock records under his bed. Ironic right?
''We can also stop by Gran and Gramps for an early diner,'' Dad says, already reaching for his cell to call them. ''We'll have you back here in time to get to Cardiff.'' he adds directed to me as he dials the number.
''I'm in!'' I say happily.
It isn't the fact we go the the MusicBarn, or the fact that Harry is on tour, or that my best friends Niall, Liam and Zayn, are busy with their football team or something. It isn't even that my piano is in reparation or that I could stay home and watch TV or sleep. I'd actually rather go out with my family then stay home alone.
My family isn't one of those family's that's often doing things together. So when we are all together and going out, I'm happy about that. This is yet another thing that I'm not really proud of, but Harry gets that, too.
''Louis!!'' Dad calls. ''Get dressed. We're going out on an adventure!!''
Louis finishes off his guitar solo with a lot of noise. A moment later he's bouncing into the kitchen, fully dressed this time. It's like he'd pulled on his clothes while running down the stairs.
''This time I'm ready to run, Woahoo!!'' Louis sings at the top of this voice.
''Not that band again..'' Dad sighs. ''Have we no better artists these days? At least sing something of Coldplay or the Script. Or even Ed Sheeran, but not that boyband again.''
''Escape from the city and follow the sun!!'' Louis sings even louder.
''Always the good listener.'' I say laughing at my little brother.
Mom laughs while she puts a plate with pancakes down on the kitchen table. ''C'mon family, Let's eat!''