The Last Time

Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

Zachary Jones' POV

"Sir your passport, please."

God, why was I frigging nervous right now? I'm being a wuss again for crying out loud.

"Sir?" I heard the reception stewardess lady almost shout at me.

I fumbled for my passport and handed it to her. She typed something on the computer, put a stamp of some sort on a piece of paper, and handed me back my passport. She then fakely smiled.

"Thank you sir for choosing our airlines. Have a nice day."

I just nodded absentmindedly then maneuvered my suitcases and held my backpack, which was sloppily slung over my shoulder, and went to the exit.

I am back, for Pete's sake. This is my home. I shouldn't be a nervous wreck.

I looked for my dad's old worn-out  sedan and finally spotted it parked on the side. He slightly honked the car as he saw me approach him.

I placed my stuff on the trunk and then sat on the passenger seat.

"Hey Zac." He awkwardly greeted. "How was your trip?"

"It was tiring, I guess. But I'm good. Let's just go home." I weakly said.

" What? Well, uh, okay. Let's just grab something to eat, eh? I'm sure you must be starving." He stiffly said.

I shrugged as he drove away.

I hate how this feels like. The deafening and awkward silence that freaks me out, but I couldn't break it. It's like a frigging jellyfish stings you repeatedly, or more accurately, a small knife stabbing and poking you in the gut and you couldn't stop it.

"So, I, uh, talked with the university dean. He said you can continue your last year without any problems. You just have to take a test or something since what you had, uh, there, was a different program compared to, uh, in Australia. Anyway, you can move in there a week after the semester starts."

I stiffened. "I'm staying with you for a month?"

He faked chuckling." It's just three weeks, maybe less. Don't worry I won't bother you or something." God, dad.

I stayed silent as he resumed driving in silence. 

It's been a few years ever since I came back here, from Australia, where all hell broke loose. It was a tough phase for me. I stopped studying here almost a year back and stayed at Australia for a while to settle things. This sort of eschewing, made me question and test my beliefs, principles, life, and even my whole persona. It made me this melodramatic wimp, this loser, this wuss.

But dad, despite all that, all the pain, made sure I was fine, that I was alright. But for some reason, I hated him. I hated his gullibility, his weakness, everything. I hated the fact that he let all of this happen- and that broke what we had.

Before I knew it, I saw the beige façade and the iron trellis on the porch of my old home. Dad parked the car on the curb as he pulled over.

"We're here son." He said as he turned the ignition off.