Sam was probably in school right now, dad was at work, so this was literally going to be a one-on-one with my mother. Who, as my uncle says, was a complete demon when she's mad but mostly because she's usually a sweetheart if her temper was completely intact.

And let's just say that when her face popped up on my screen, I only managed to smile at her, praying that she wasn't angry even if that meant that we were lying to the both us. There was no way that she was like that.

"Darling, we may be in different time zones but that doesn't mean you forget about us," she sighed, her tone slow and steady which is a lot scarier if you think about it, "And I heard from Levi that you've been working on something."

"Yeah, I'm a little slow though," I admitted, taking off my shoes so I could prop my feet on the bed, "I don't even have a title yet."

"No pressure Sienna but Levi's book is already in editing and even Andy's is ready for release," she reminded as if I didn't know already, "Your publisher was elated when you started selling and the bloggers started fawning about an author that was close to their own age but that doesn't keep you secured forever."

I bit my lip because she didn't have to point it out, I was already disappointed in myself. Does it ever enter her mind that her daughter was trying her darn hardest? Her small mentions of a book escalated to a demand and it stressed me out greater than it should have.

And even though I wanted to get irritated at her, I couldn't because even if she was my mother, she still has a job to do. She's just extremely considerate of me because I was her daughter, but if any other author under her supervision was placed in my position, she would have dropped them in an instant.

I wanted to force myself to write a new story but I couldn't. I then went here and somehow, I was able to start one.

One that doesn't involve a whole whirlwind plot wherein two people will just walk away at the end. Then again, maybe it will, I have no idea yet because this was still a work in progress.

"Send me the working draft," she told me and I gawked at her request. No, her voice wasn't making a request, it was full on telling me to do it without questions. Yes, as my agent she had every right to see it, but as my mom, do I really want her to read it?

The answer was no.

"Mom, I can't do that, I haven't finished it yet," I tried to argue.

But of course, she wasn't going to budge, "So that I could stop you if that story isn't worth finishing."

Welcome to the writing industry – if agents doesn't think it will sell, it will be trashed in an instant.

"Uncle Levi has been monitoring it so you can be assured it's going well," I once again attempted to find my way around this.

"Sienna Elizabeth Clark, you're hiding something," she concluded and she wasn't wrong there, plus she used my full name. Gosh, I hated it when she did that, "What is it?"

It wasn't that I didn't want to tell her, it was just embarrassing because I know my mother. Although I haven't placed character names, she will find out in an instant that the narrator was me and clearly, the timeline of happenings was a dead giveaway.

Then again, what was I really ashamed of?

I wasn't ashamed but I was afraid she will find out something I was just starting to realize.

"Nothing, can you please let it go just for this one time?" I gazed downwards, my hair covering my face from her view.

Thankfully, she learned to let it go. Maybe after all, her daughter was suddenly thrown into a new environment and she was still trying her hardest to survive.

"Alright, but call more often darling," she said, her speech now tender and motherly, all the business-like attitude disappearing into thin air, "We miss you."

"Me too, I miss you all," I've slowly adjusted to life here that I've almost forgotten what it felt like to have my mother screaming at me to get up from bed during the mornings, to have a small debate with Sam over breakfast or lunch, listen to dad drone on and on about work during dinner, and just be generally be surrounded by the people I grew up with.

New York is so fast paced, two weeks may be slow to people here but for me, two weeks was the total amount of time my friends and I went on a road trip through the tri-state area or the New York metropolitan area – well, most of it. The adventures we spent were timeless because we were a bunch of crazy kids who just graduated high school and was out in the great big world.

It was more of a miracle that our parents even allowed us to go.

By the time I came back, I almost forgotten what it was like before I left. And still, those pins saying 'I heart NYC' or those keychains that has the Statue of Liberty, even the postcards of the New York City skyline and dozen movies about the subway doesn't give that place justice.

Because it's different if you're a tourist there, you see its beauty and you appreciate it. When you live there, you see its flaws and how horrible the traffic is or how crowded the streets are, but it's what makes you fall in love with it. I've seen the good and the bad – the homeless sleeping on the sidewalks and the businessmen rushing around with their Bluetooth headpiece permanently stuck into their ears.

And yes, England is gorgeous and mesmerizing on its own, but I'm afraid it will never be home and I'm almost positive that my opinion will stay the same even after I study here until I get my degree.

I remember when I was younger when my family went and watched Wonderland on Broadway and there was a song explaining exactly what is home – it's where you'll never feel lonely whenever you're alone.

"I'll talk to you soon," I said just before I ended the call, leaning against the headboard of my bed. Exhaling loudly, I reached over for my phone and shot Andy a text, asking him if he can take me back to the café we went to yesterday because I'm determined to sit through this writing session with him.

When he replied a word of confirmation, I took my bag and my book for my next class before heading out. Since I was so keen with my subjects and to get it over with, I tried to be as attentive as I can be and that resulted with me ignoring my phone the whole time.

On my way back to the dorm, I sifted through the messages and smiled at the ones Adam sent.

Adam Nicholas: I'm feeling I should take you out to dinner as a re-do of last Friday.

I bit my lip, my fingers twiddling with each other while my brain tried to process it.

Sienna Clark: Oh really? When?

Thankfully, it sounded confident and witty instead of a flustered mess that I was right now. I felt like I was a giddy middle schooler getting asked out on her first date.

Adam Nicholas: This Friday. Dress fancy, Miss Clark.

I hastened my steps and practically ran into my dorm room. Julia was there on her bed, a book on her lap and a bag of chips in her hand. She looked up from her readings and blinked questionably at my disposition.

"Adam asked me out," I puffed out and she immediately flew out of her bed, her book falling into the side and thankfully, her chips staying inside the bag. She rushed to where I was standing and I showed her the message.

"Don't panic," she said although her body language didn't match her words at all.

"Don't panic?" I repeated her words, snatching her chips as if it was my saving grace, "You remember the last time we went out?"

She rolled her eyes, "That was one time."

Yeah, and that one time made me rip out my sketchbook.

"But," she drawled out with a teasing smirk, "Sienna has her first date since entering college."

Once again, when she actually said it out loud, it weighed heavier. Instead of blushing madly, I felt pale at the thought.

Please don't let me screw this up.

...

"Sienna, met any handsome British men yet?" one of my friends from back home joked while we were in the middle of a skype group call.

And it made me realize how much I wasted during my gap year. While I was not the only one in our group who did, the others took that opportunity to travel or to be productive with their lives. Those who went straight to college after graduation were well-adjusted and were in their second year.

Their stories made mine completely bland. Correction, it made mine completely sad.

Been in a hiatus and slump for a year then her uncle had to step and get her into a university abroad just to get her moving.

Pathetic.

"Yes," I played along, "And he asked me out."

We shared a laugh while my best friend urged me to send a picture. We all knew it was a joke so I deemed it safe to send a picture of Adam, which I ripped off from his profile. They all started to fawn over him and I simply rolled my eyes playfully.

"Mind if I steal him?" she grinned and I unconsciously gripped my sheets tight when those teasing yet flirty words went out of her lips. She clearly saw how my face fell and she laughed, "Nah, I already have a boyfriend."

An awkward laugh was the only reaction that I managed to show. She shot me a suspicious look that was paired a smirk, but before she could shoot a question, she was cut off.

"Stop making us jealous," another piped in, "I have yet to find a guy who can keep a conversation without them having to look down onto my boobs after a few minutes."

"Yeah, but you agreed to go on a one night stand with one of them," Gracie snickered while he was in the middle of painting her nails. Out of all of them, I was definitely the closest to her. Our mothers were friends during their younger days so it was only natural that she and I would be as well. We practically grew up together and you could imagine how much of a baby I acted when she left for college.

But nothing could beat off how she reacted when I broke the news that I was leaving for England. She literally missed a whole day of classes just because she wanted to be there at the airport. I told her multiple times not to but if I was considered stubborn, then she was doubled it.

"Oh fuck off."

Vulgar? Yes. Scandalous? Sometimes. Loud? Very. Fun? Always.

My laughter rarely subsided when I was with them and if you add the boys who were in our group, consider it a circus. Our group kept Justin and I civil after the break up, even if it was usually awkward, but because our friends were one big clique, we were forced to see each other often.

Naturally, I remained in-contact with the girls more than the guys.

"I miss you," I whined, hugging my pillow, "It's not the same without you all."

"Then let's have another sleepover during Thanksgiving break," she suggested and they all agreed with much enthusiasm but I didn't respond.

I wasn't going to come home because I didn't have a Thanksgiving break. The constant reminder of me being in another country was truly putting me down.

But I wasn't going to be a debby downer, that's for sure, "After that, let's go to mine for another sleepover during the holidays."

They once again squealed with excitement at this, "I've always loved your place because out of all of us, it's the one closest to Bloomingdale's."

Our shopping trips were always the best because we love to be thrifty just as much as the other person but it doesn't stop us from spending offending amounts of money on luxury items. From bags that would induce a heart attack on somebody to clothes that we will more or less wear once but will pay a working man's year worth of salary.

It was a blessing we loved to take advantage of and it wasn't like we do it all the time.

In our school, you dress to impress or you're going to get laughed at. It's cruel but once again, we were in New York City, designer clothes were being sold left and right. Almost all the students in our school were either scholars or coming from upper middle-class families. It came with the perks of private schooling.

"Sienna, are you coming down with us to eat?" Julia knocked softly on the door with Meg peeking from behind her.

"I'll just have a late dinner," I told them and they nodded, walking away.

"Who was that?"

"My roommate," I responded, "She's really nice."

"At least somebody's taking care of our Sienna over there," they smiled affectionately before adding in a very laughing manner, "Plus the hot Brit."

In the end, I wasn't able to eat and I didn't mind because we spent the whole night chatting even with the five-hour difference. We talked about the silliness of the past, the craziness of the present, and the foolishness of the future.

Those nights when I didn't spend talking them felt so lonely and I realized that they were home.

I can't wait to go back, the months leading up to December will now be a pain in the ass but I also have my own adventure to live here. In my first book, they were the backdrop to the scenes happening between me and Justin but this time, they were going to be that light at the end of the tunnel known as the plot.

To find my spirit and bring myself back home will be the end game here.

Grabbing my laptop, I typed on a working title for my book – Home. 

---------------- 

If y'all don't know Wonderland the musical then I suggest you look it up. It's not the most critically acclaimed broadway musical out there but it's very near and dear to my heart because we recreated it back when I was a senior in high school.

It was difficult to write chapters about NYC because I've never been there before so I had to do a ton of research so I could write a character who is completely in love with it and have lived there her whole life. If you do see some mistakes regarding that, feel free to point it out.

I love you guys and thank you so much for reading. Don't forget to comment, vote, and follow. I shall see you all on the next chapter.