Chapter Five

My last three days in the South Eastern European State, Bulgaria were absorbing. My dad had struck an handsome deal and spent almost all his time either in the hot, aerated water of Hotelgenix’s spa or at the massage parlour giving his ol' skin a treat and rarely at a casino not too far from our hotel just to test if the “lucky necklace” my mum had given him once before his biggest contract signing was still potent.

My last days were top notch fun. I visited parks and gardens. A museum also – with Maisie but finally, the day of my departure arrived and it was an emotional one.

 **

The cold wintery breeze reduced the temperature of every thing – living or dead in Sofia and not even the heater in me and my dad’s rooms could save us. Snow had been falling for hours non-stop which was revolting because I wanted to see the finest skier I had ever met, someone I loved very much, Maisie, before we went to the airport and back to America but the snow made it impracticable. 

**

My dad employed there workers of Hotelgenix to help us pack our stuffs as we got ready to leave Bulgaria. I video chatted with Maisie for about forty-five minutes straight. 

The roads were snowclad still just like it was on the evening we arrived in Bulgaria – an incessant white world of sleet and we had to go with the helicopter.

The Hotelgenix workers piled up all our belongings – including the ones we’d bought in Bulgaria into the elevator straight to the 11th storey. From there, they carried it up to the greatly tall and frighteningly chill helipad. 

We got into the helicopter and it hovered for a few seconds over the helipad with its noisy metal blades swinging at their maximum potential before lifting us into the air and in the direction of Sofia International Airport (SIA).

 **

The memories of how the airport was were blurry. All I remember was that our flight was delayed for an hour because of the great deal of snow that was on the runway. Along the line, my dad got an important phone call that made him roam out of my view subconsciously but I wasn't bothered, not in the least. It wasn't his first of doing such and I could bet it wasn't going to be his last either and if you told him about it, he just said that changes in his environment helped him mull over the impediments that came with his business. 

A white vapour breath escaped through my lips as I dragged my head warmer over my ears and closer to my chin with my fingers that were well protected from the cold thanks to my woolen gloves as I sat down on a cold black and gray metal bench. The old granny next to me had a lot of freckles on her hands and a really dark mole that I had seen with the corner of my eyes on the left side of her nose. She smelt of an excessive intake of alcohol and I felt nauseated. I generally felt terrible and there was no worse way to end a splendid holiday.

I took my phone out in boredom, removed the glove on my right hand and scrolled through my Instagram news feed. After a while, Sal, my best friend that I hadn't spoken to since my arrival sent a message. I couldn't read it because my dad returned from wherever he had wandered off too with the good news that the runway's issue had been fixed. Good news right?

There was no proof of it because the speakers were yet to announce but if only for the sake of saving my nostrils from extermination, I stood up instantly. As we were heading to the spot check, the speakers blared loudly saying that the snow had been cleared and the passengers could now proceed to the checkpoint and I tried pretending like I didn't see my dad beam with pride but he knew that I saw it.

 **

It was a dull flight from Bulgaria. The meal wasn’t too good, we had a stop over at Andorra and Bosnia-Herzegovina which only extended the nine hours flight to twelve.

On the bright side,  I didn’t see the hazel eyed waitress. She was probably being banged on another flight.

Not that I was timid or fearful but there was something spooky, creepy and spine chilling about the way her eyes burnt into mine and even thoughts of her gave me a mild hurt on my head.

 **

The thirteen red and white stripes that represented the thirteen colonies and fifty stars – each representing a state of the United States of America waved elegantly with the breeze filling me up with pride and patriotism. 

As much as I enjoyed Bulgaria, I was back home – in America, in John F. Kennedy Airport, New York City, and I loved it. I loved nudging other innocent Americans – my countrymen and apologizing in the language I was familiar with – English.

I loved being able to read and understand the blue placards, variegated handbills and virtually every thing I could in English and not with the help of Mr. Sullivan.

 **

My mum and her Chauffeur were there. She  was in a white Faux-fur-trim hooded puffer coat, standing next to her yellow Audi 5 cabriolet convertible, tapping her feet impatiently and glancing at her watch impatiently while her Chauffeur stood like the amazing art work of a sculptor until he saw my dad and a young, 19 year old man – me, struggling to get his travelling bag to move at his pace. 

He was of an Italian descent and was easily  made amused. His English accent was still trespassed on by Italian but other than that, he was a jolly, well groomed fellow. My dad's had gone back to his family back in North Carolina on his winter leave.

On our way back home, mum stopped by to get new pairs of woolen gloves for the twins, they were always losing theirs and I low key hoped that their fingers had frozen before we got home, that'll teach them a good lesson.

As soon as we got home, I went straight to my room to suck in every feeling of nostalgia still left there. It was almost the exact way I left it just tidier.

Every of my stuffs that seemed to be in the right place when I left remained intact and those that could be left the way they were although they weren't were they should've been remained in the same position, like my skate board that had Chris Brown's autograph on it. Normally, I kept it under my bed but when I was leaving, it was at the back of my door and it was left that way till I returned.

I was also bothered that Mason would have come snooping around and might have found somethings I didn't want him seeing or Madison might have done something crazy like spilling her nail polish on my bed or something but I decided not to let those two bother me as I jumped on my cold bed and got swallowed in it's comfort.

I took my phone out and read my best friend, Sal's message. It said:

We need to talk, something bad is up.

Yeah, the sky except that it wasn't bad, just cloudy.

I tried imagining what was wrong to reduce the shock. 

My girlfriend, Amaya, wasn’t pregnant, hopefully.

I replied him immediately asking what was up and after a few messages from the both of us, my life had spun round! Rounder and faster than a merry-go-round will.