It wasn't exactly a difficult decision when I had the option of moving back home. Massachusetts is freezing, sad and lonely. I missed the simple life back home when I'd skip class with Tony and we'd skate down to the beach and drink cheap soda up on the rocks. I was heading back alone for the first few weeks before Tom would fly back and join me in our new apartment. Tom is my boyfriend that nobody knows about, and he is the reason why I'm scared.
I'm petrified about telling Vic, Mike and my parents. Even more so Tony.
But what is life without risks?

Now as I tug my dad's huge suitcase through the airport I feel relief over the familiar air conditioned feel of California's buildings. Vic is picking me up and I have no idea where he is. Damn. I can feel the weight of anxiety getting heavier in my stomach so I take my phone out of the plaid shirt tied around my waist to find no message. Damn. Locating a metal bench I sit down to relieve my aching arms and lean against the wooden plant pot housing a dying palm.
I can't help but feel like I'm being watched as I watched the hundreds of travellers pass me in their business suits or dragging unruly children. Although I feel uncomfortable I don't move- long flights wear you out.

Suddenly my whole body convulses as somebody's hands grab my shoulders. I spin round, nearly falling off the bench, and screech. My heart jolts as I hear the familiar outburst of laughter from my older brother as he doubles over.
"Jesus Christ Vic, I thought I was being attacked!" I gasp.
"You deserve it after going for so long!" he smiled, taking me into a one armed hug. His hair's a bit longer now but he looks the same as always. He takes my handbag and slings it over his shoulder.
"I missed everyone so much, it was horrible," I sigh as we begin walking. "Everyone was taller than me,"
I may be the youngest of us three, but I'm not the shortest.
"I'm more experienced though, young one," he grins.

***

The car journey was relaxing. It's been a while since I've been able to cruise down the highway with the windows rolled down and all of my favourite music from high school blasting through the stereo. Vic tells me about his tours with the boys, and even offers me a space on the bus to be a helping photographer with Adam. The sun was nearly attacking the car and its so homely. 90 degree heat is my favourite, despite me being so pale little to no people believe I have mexican heritage.
As the large roads turn into streets I grow more and more nervous. I'm excited, but is now the time to tell anyone anything?
"How many guys did you pull at college?" Vic smirks.
"That's irrelevant," I counter. "But more than you would've,"
"Wow that hurt" he said, tapping his chest. But I can see the knowing in his eyes as he glances at me. "I wont tell anyone."
"Thank you," I sigh. I could trust Vic with my soul.

I begin to recognise our neighbourhood's houses and before I know it we're pulling into our parents' drive. Our mom is at the door and sqeuals, running across the front yard.
"Oh my goodness, she's back! The baby is back! Oh you're all grown up! I've missed you!" she babbles, hugging me tightly. There's nothing more comforting than the Irish tinted voice of my mom. "Vic, that was too fast, you drive too fast!" she scolds the same criticism for the thousandth time.
"Mike! Victor! Grace is back!"
I see the white overalls before I see my dad stumble through the door, followed by the gangly form of my brother. My dad's face lights up and he runs to hug me.
"My bebé is back!" he shouts. "Tell me, how are you?" he asks me.
"I'm great," I beam. Switching between my mom's accent to my dad's thick Mexican one is something that seems to exclusively happen at my home. When my dad finishes rambling in a mix of English and Spanish I go to hug Mike.
"Hey douchebag,"
"Hi cretin" he says, wrapping a tattoed arm around me. He smells of mint, colonge and tabacco.

It's good to be back.

Notes

This was an introductory filler. Sorry for the rambles!