Chapter 34: : Chapter 34

Sommerstall AcademyWords: 7263

I’m home alone again. Not that that is weird but I’m actually skipping school. That’s the unusual part.

Well, not so much unusual since it’s a tradition, of sorts. You see, it’s my birthday today which makes it the one day a year my parents allow me to skip school and spend it with them. It’s how we always did it. Always but this year.

This year, when I happily emerged from my room, expecting to see my mom make us pancakes (all part of the birthday ritual), I was met with an empty house. I was surprised enough to have called my dad which turned out to be a great mistake since he was busy at work.

‘What is it,’ he asked. ‘I’m about to go into a meeting. Why aren’t you at school,’ he added confused. His harsh tone startled me enough to lie and tell him I was at school and that I had a free period.

I knew then, my parents forgot my birthday.

The sad part is, I’m not even surprised. I only regret having found out after school has already started since I’ll now be spending all day by myself. It’s unusual for my parents to forget something though, they’re usually better at keeping up the façade.

Either way, here I am, opening Instagram because I got a notification. It’s pathetic how desperate I am for anyone whatsoever to have thought of me even though it’s probably not even a message.

It’s in fact not a message but a story. I don’t usually care but since it’s from Elija, I click on it.

I’m greeted by a meme, presumably self-made. It’s a picture of some guy with a highly offended face with the text ‘

‘ To which he commented, ‘Yeah, fr’. He even mentioned me!

I nearly squeal. Don’t blame me but after the morning I’ve had, this is amazing, no matter how bad the meme is. He wanted to hug me? Is it too late to go to school? I still have thirty minutes until the last period ends.

I decide to simply text him instead.

I hope it doesn’t come off as dry but I really don’t know how to text someone.

He added a period. Now it’s serious. Also, how does he know me so well even over text, honestly!

This time, Elija takes longer to reply. He keeps typing something only to delete it. Finally, a message comes through.

My heart skips a beat at that. He’s told his family about me?

Oh well, good enough.

Then I spend the next thirty minutes stressing over what to wear. I got ready this morning since my parents wouldn’t allow me to look like a zombie at breakfast but now all my clothes seem inappropriate. It’s really warm outside so I’d like to wear a crochet top but most seem too revealing. In the end, I decide to wear my favorite one even though it’s quite short and has a low v. I throw on a thin white jacket which makes the green and pink of the shirt pop more, and pair it up with some light blue jeans. Finishing it off with some gold accessories and my flower converse, I get going.

At school, Elija’s already waiting for me. He smiles warmly before pulling me into a hug.

‘Happy birthday. Welcome to the world of adults,’ he says. I’m too busy inhaling his scent and enjoying the close contact to reply but he doesn’t seem to rush me. He just keeps holding me until I pull away.

‘Ready to go into the lion’s den?’ he jokes. I hand him the helmet.

‘I hope so. I don’t know where you live though so I’ll need directions.’

‘Of course.’ With that, we get onto my Vespa and take off. Thankfully, the way is rather simple and with Elija’s help, we get to his home in less than thirty minutes.

Elija heads for the door but I shake out my hair first. It must look all messy after the wind’s torture but I try my best to comb it through with my fingers before reattaching my clip. Then I smile at Elija who’s, as always, staring at me. When I tell him I’m ready, we enter his home.

The first thing I notice is all the noise. I’m not used to it since my parents are always quiet but it’s reassuring, somehow. Different from the constant cold and lively instead.

‘Home sweet home,’ Elija tells me spreading his arms in front of him.

Before I can reply, two weights throw themselves at my legs. I look down to see the twins smiling up.

‘Flower girl is here!’

‘Happy birthday, Flower girl!’ they sing. They’re quickly followed by a plump woman with the kindest eyes I’ve ever seen. I can’t help but feel welcomed.

‘You must be Florence. I’m Amelia, it’s nice to finally meet you,’ she tells me before pulling me into a hug. I’m startled by the affectionate greeting but I snap out of it and hug her back. She smells of vanilla and somehow, don’t ask me how, home.

‘The pleasure’s all mine,’ I tell her. Then she pulls away and hugs her son. Is this what Elija always comes home to? Is that how a mother should greet her child? The thought sends a pang of regret straight to my heart.

‘Elija, you’re home!’ says a deeper voice. I step away as the next person pushes his way up to us. It’s a bald, tall guy and I’m guessing it’s Eli’s stepfather. He looks just as sweet as his wife as he welcomes Elija but I notice the shift in his demeanor when he looks at me. His eyes become more guarded and calculating, his smile smaller.

‘I’m Robert,’ he tells me, holding out his hand for me to shake. I try not to be intimidated and smile at him.

‘Florence. Thank you for having me,’ I tell him.

‘Of course, Sweetie, and happy birthday,’ Amelia says. Somehow, the nickname sounds different coming from her than my own mother. More genuine, maybe.

I thank the woman and follow Eli to his room.

‘You survived the first test with bravour. Honestly, I think your mother loves you more than me already,’ Elija tells me as he sits down on his desk chair. Then he tells me to sit down on his bed which I happily do. Even though my brain is in a haze, surrounded by so many new things, I recognize his bed is smaller than mine. That’s probably why he isn’t on here with me. Stupid gentleman.

His room is exactly what I’d envisioned it. It’s mostly black and grey with a few blue accents. There are no clothes strewn across the floor but boxes filled with various things are set in the corners. My aunt’s guitar is hanging from his wall right across the bed.

‘Are there any more tests?’ I ask absently, still taking in the room. Pictures are hung up on a wall along with a few records. It all screams Elija.

‘Well, there’s dinner if you’re up for it,’ he tells me. That gets my attention.

‘Are you sure it would be okay for me to stay?’ I ask while running the scenarios through my head. Would I be able to stomach anything surrounded by so many strangers? I’ve been having a few good days recently so I might. I’m just scared it’ll get worse again. I don’t want to come across as impolite because I can’t finish my plate.

‘Of course, Florence,’ Elija assures me.

‘Alright, then I’d like to stay. Thanks,’ I tell him. While he puts on music, my eyes go back to the guitar on the wall. I still remember when my aunt used to play for me. I loved her playing almost as much as I loved her voice.

‘Who played? I forgot to ask you the last time,’ Elija asks.

‘My aunt,’ I tell him with a smile. For once, it feels nice to talk about her.