Wonderfall

Ikigai

Lauren's POV

Ikigai (n.): a reason for being; the thing that gets you up in the morning.

"But what is the IUA?" my mother asked, placing the folded blanket on my bed. "If I knew you'd be staying the night, I'd have asked Martha to clean the room."

"It's the International Union of Architects," I repeated for the fourth time. "An international congress that brings together architects from all over the world, and the most important and outstanding architects are called to speak and give lectures. I wanted to register, but I ended up missing the deadline," I said as I took off my shoes, sitting on the edge of the bed. "And don't worry about the room, Mom."

She sighed. "I could have changed and cleaned the bedspread..."

"Mom!" I huffed, shoving my shoes under the bed before spinning around to face her. "Of all the things I said, did you really only pay attention to that part?"

My mother always had an ear for what suited her best, especially when the conversation drifted to topics she had no interest in, which was the case. And even though I knew she was only trying to look out for me, her overprotectiveness could sometimes be overwhelming. It wasn't that she didn't trust me; according to her, she just didn't trust everyone else.

"All right." My mother's shoulders dropped in surrender. "Can you explain it again?" she asked, her eyes focused intently on me, showing her willingness to listen this time.

I shook my head in disbelief. "Really?"

"No, I mean, I get it. It's an architecture congress, and because your professor was asked to lecture there, you were invited to go..."

"Exactly." I nodded as my face lit up with a smile. "I still can't believe I was invited..."

My mother, of course, thought the reason behind my excitement was the fact that I had been invited by my brilliant professor, a renowned architectural genius and highly respected figure in the world of architecture. But the truth was, only ten percent of me was genuinely happy about it. The other ninety percent was overwhelmed with the ecstatic joy of being invited by the woman who made my heart flutter, who sent my emotions into a tailspin, who made me quiver in her presence—the woman I was in love with—to join her on a three-day trip to New York.

"You must be really excited to go," my mother observed, closing the curtains. "You haven't stopped smiling since we came back from the Christensen's."

Be convincing, I told myself mentally.

"Do you have any idea what it's like to be personally invited by Professor Camila Cabello to participate at the IUA?" I chuckled, my voice rising into a slightly indignant tone. "It's like being invited by Barack Obama to visit the White House!"

"Hmm..." she paused as she moved across the room. "Is she gonna look after you when you get there, or are you going on your own?" she asked before walking into the bathroom, disappearing from my sight.

Definitely, the first option, I smiled to myself as I recalled the sweet kisses Camila and I shared in the early hours of the morning.

"She's gonna look after me since she's my professor. But don't forget I'm already eighteen, Mom, I'm responsible enough to take care of myself," I said, raising my voice so she could hear me in the bathroom.

I flung myself onto the bed, sinking into the pillows. I heard my mother shuffling around in the bathroom and caught a glimpse of her in the mirror as she switched out the towels. After a few moments, she emerged from the bathroom.

"I know you are responsible, that's not what I'm worried about. New York is a dangerous city, and you've never been there on your own. I don't know if this is a good idea," my mother said, and I knew that tone too well. I needed to find a way to convince her.