Page 147 of Lessons in Chemistry

Dad embraces me too. “Good trip home?”

“Yes, thanks.”

“Did you travel with Emory?” Mum asks.

Dad rolls his eyes. “Of course he did. You did, didn’t you?”

I laugh. “Yes.”

And Auggie. I debated bringing them here so they could support me while I talk to my parents, but after much umming and aahing on the train, I decided against it. They don’t know Auggie. They will, but right now, he’s a stranger. They’ve gone to Em’s, and I’ll check in with them later.

“You must be tired from travelling. Do you want anything to eat or drink?” Mum asks.

I shake my head.

“How has this term been? You’re almost halfway through your degree,” Dad says.

I gulp at that, even though he’s right. I don’t want to think about my degree coming to an end, because it will likely be the end of swimming competitively too. I once had dreams of swimming for England in the Olympics, but I’m not the best of the best, far from it. Maybe I can swim for a city or regional team for a while after uni, but only if I can juggle training and a full-time job, which is doubtful. It’s hard enough balancing training and uni.

“It’s been good. Em’s been helping me stay on top of my work.”

“If swimming is too much—” Mum begins.

“It’s not.”

They’re supportive of my swimming, but their stipulation has always been that I have to put schoolwork first. They became stricter on that when it became clear that I wasn’t going to be swimming for England. That swimming would be a time-consuming and exhausting hobby. I’ve never been able to explain to them how much it means to me. How free I feel when I’m in the water, or how exhilarating it is to compete.

“We’ve got a turkey and all the trimmings for tomorrow,” Dad says.

“Sounds great. Do you want me to do anything?”

Mum shakes her head. “Rest and relax.”

Dad laughs. “She wants to pamper you while you’re here. She misses you.”

Mum rolls her eyes. “So do you.”

“I miss you too.”

“Are you sure you won’t stay longer? You’ll hardly be home at all,” Mum says.

Our plan is to go home in time for New Year’s. Home. I take a breath and stare around the room. I’ve got so many memories of growing up here, but it doesn’t feel like home anymore. Spending the last week with Em and Auggie felt like being home.

“I’m sure he and Emory want to get back for some wild party to see the New Year in. Our boy is growing up,” Dad says.

Mum sniffs. “He is.”

“Hi? I’m right here,” I remind them.

Mum smiles. “You won’t be coming home after uni, will you?”

“I haven’t thought about it. I’ve still got a year and a half left.” But no, probably not.

“She wants to turn your room into a craft room,” Dad says with a wink.

Mum looks horrified. “I do not. Don’t listen to him, Casey. Your room will always be yours.”

I doubt that will remain true when I move out permanently, which I will sooner or later, but I appreciate the gesture. As their only child, I guess it’s even harder to let me go. At least Em has two younger siblings. Auggie doesn’t, but his family life seems worlds apart from mine. I hate that he feels unloved. Hate that he doesn’t have a strong relationship with his parents like I do with mine.