AR - Choices made

It's November. Summer is over.

You are not even a little bit embarrassed about how glad you are to see your Mom at the airport. You run past everybody and leap into her arms, but you walk pretty fast. You don’t have to hug her, because she’s already hugging you in the crowded arrivals area.

With her arms around you, you feel the incredible stress of the past months melting away. She accompanies you to the baggage claim, chattering away happily. Your mom has the same red hair as you, but she’s not quite as athletic. You keep waiting for her to remarry, but she still hasn’t.

“You looked so pretty in New York,” she says once you’re in the car and on the highway.

You just finished a three-week press tour with FUTA. The pilot season is over, and there will be a hiatus over the winter. You’ll go back to FUTA in March, and then the new season will start up in April. In the meantime, you’ll have to stay in shape and stay sharp… and get some homework done, if you still want to graduate college anytime soon.

Even so, this is still a break, and you have been aching for it. It’s a long drive from the city to Gurlberg, your hometown. It’s not a very big town, but it has a well-known university and some other landmarks. It’s where you grew up, and you haven’t been there since this summer, when you got the surprise news that you’d been accepted to the camp that would develop into FUTA.

“Where’s Kayla?” you ask your mom. Your younger sister just turned nineteen. She’s a student at the university now, but hasn’t picked a major. You aren’t as close to her as some sisters are, but it’s been long enough and such a difficult time that you want to see her.

“She’ll come over tonight,” your mom assures you.

Kayla has always had an active social life. She always has plans.

It feels amazing to get back into the familiar streets that lead to your house. It’s November, so it’s not as bright and hot as usual. It’s nice out.

Your home has not changed. It’s a brick house that looks like most of the other ones on this street, two stories, with white shutters and cute bushes by the stairs that lead up to the door.

“We got new landscapers,” your mom tells you as she pulls into the driveway. “Since you’re a celebrity now. Can’t have a shaggy lawn.”

“We never had a shaggy lawn,” you say. “At least, not since you kicked Dad out. Did you make pancakes?”

“How can I make pancakes when I’m driving to the airport? You can have pancakes tomorrow. I ordered pizza,” your mom says, helping you with your bags. The two of you rattle up the stairs. You try to get your keys, but you don’t have to. The door opens.

Adella looks… not too different. If anything, she looks a bit more ripped than she did last time you saw her, which was what? It was three weeks ago. You got one night together before you left on your tour.

Your face turns red and you put on a stupid smile.

“I thought you were working tonight,” you say, almost dropping your bags.

“You thought I wouldn’t take off for you coming home?” Adella asks dryly, taking your bags from you.

“Surprise,” your mom says, but you’re already in there, giving Adella a smooch on the lips. Your mom watches patiently, and you pull yourself together.

You get all the stuff inside. You weren’t expecting Adella until later. This is great!