The Summer I Went Sailing {L.H}. ~ Book 3

Chapter Eight

"Gloria, please stop sobbing. It's making me nervous." I say to my roommate, pulling her into a hug and she cries into my neck. 

"I... can't... help... it..." She manages to utter in between sobs and then she begins to cry even more. "I'm going to miss you so much."
"G, it's a two hour plane ride away. You can come visit anytime, you know that?" I say. We pull ourselves apart and she nods in agreement with me, wiping her runny nose on the sleeve of her jumper and giving one last shed of tears. 

Next I move onto Mason, who's also uncontrollably sobbing and his eyes are now red and puffy, kind of looking like he's been on drugs. He grabs me by the waist and grasps onto me, not letting go. Oh god, now I'm going to cry. I can feel my eyes getting misty. 

"I'm going to miss you, Mila. So much." He says, and I know he means this from the bottom of his soul. Through everything that happened between Drew and I, Mason and I have still stuck together. I knew that we where best friends for life. And also the thought of Drew made me feel physically sick because now I couldn't get the nagging feeling of who's the baby's daddy out my head; all the dates added up for this to be Luke's baby but for whatever reason, I still had that drop in my stomach when he was mentioned. Or maybe it was just the baby, I don't know. 

I eventually manage to pries Mason off me and fall into my parents reassuring embrace. My father strokes my hair and my mother presses a kiss onto my forehead, tears running down both their faces, the same as me. 

"I have this for you, Mila." My mother hands me something and I look at it blankly, it's a small piece of paper with a name and an address on it. "It's your grandfathers details. If you ever need anything, or you're ever in trouble. This is where you go."

Miguel Hernandez

123 South Hill Street

Beverly Hills, CA 52178-6584

USA

"I thought we didn't speak to our grandfather?" I say to my mother, glancing at my father, confused. 

"He's always there if you need him." My mother ends the conversation and they pull me in for one last hug. I accept her answer. It is in this moment when I realize how much I really do look like my mother, although she is extremely beautiful, I can see myself in her. The darkness of my brown eyes, the plumpness of my lips and the love-heart shape of my face. She reaches out and traces her finger down the scar on my face, the scar I always forget is there because it's became somewhat a part of me that I choose to show everyone. I don't tend to cover it up, or keep my head down. It's become something I just accept. She then pulls me in for one last hug again.

Then I move onto my brother, the last and hardest goodbye. I'm going to miss him the most out of anybody. I feel as though I should bend down to his height, but my little brother isn't so little anymore. And his big sister really needs him. 

We look at each other before we throw ourselves dramatically against each other and cling on for dear life. This is when I start to cry properly; hot, loud cries that stain my face and drip into Matias' dark hair. I want to take him with me. He hangs onto me, tugging at the material of my jumper and hiding in the crook of my neck. 

"I love you, okay? And you call me whenever you get the chance. Promise?" I say to him. 

He looks up at me and whispers,his voice cracking a little. I can't tell if it's puberty or his current state of emotion. "I promise." He replies.