Chapter Two: So Bland;

I stumble into my hotel room thirty minutes later, my bottles of wine un-opened in my hands, my handbag on my shoulder, with the bartender's number written on a napkin.

We'd made a deal that, if by chance, I came back to Australia, he'd take me out on a date, as long as I promised not to steal any more wine from millionaires, something my date had forgotten to add into the conversation.

I close my eyes as I step out of my heels, feeling as if I'm in pure bliss when I drop the wine on my bed and fall back, sitting in the chair next to my bed.

And the banging of a door makes me jump to my feet. I look at the door, where it looks like someone is going to bash in and kill me. Being the stupid girl in the horror movie that I always abuse the crap out, I slowly creep towards the door. "Who is it?"

"It's Henry! Open up! Open up! Open up!" he sounds like a four-year-old as he yells at me through the pale white door.

I've been living in this hotel room all by myself for two months now, doing the same routine every day. Work, home, sleep, work. Over and over and over again.

Quite quickly, the hotel room got boring. The white carpet that I'd once poured over for being so clean got dirty. The walls that were cream-coloured suddenly looked bland. There were no pictures in the room, making me feel lonelier than ever before. The only good thing was I had a television, so I could watch the crappy shows, that Australian's call "reality".

Snapping back to reality, with Henry still banging on the door and yelling at me to open it, I close my eyes and lean against the door for a moment. I feel sorry for the neighbours, especially the woman next door since she has a three-month old with her and it hardly ever sleeps.

I've been trained to sleep through anything, living with mum and Luke, plus being on the road, I can sleep through anything, including a smoke-alarm (mum decided to test). But she, she's a new mother, and her brain hasn't yet come to the decision to let her sleep, and her baby is up crying through all hours of the night, as she tells me most mornings.

Our visits always turn out the same. We walk out to get the paper at the same time. She says hello, I say hello. She apologises for her baby crying, and I have to pretend that it doesn't bother me, so I don't rub in the fact that I've been asleep while she's been dealing with the baby situation alone.

I knew the neighbours would all hate me for the rest of the time I lived in the stingy hotel room.

Despite the fact I'd been in there for so long, if I had to admit it, the room wasn't that bad. It had a working bathroom, two king-sized beds, there were curtains to keep out the sunlight for people who actually got days off, which I hadn't had in a matter of months. There was a remote for the television and a menu for room-service and for a while that was all I needed.

My stomach had gotten a size bigger in two months, since Henry, my asshole of a boss, paid for us all. The hotel, the food, it was all part of the package, including the mostly 18-hour days.

I pull the door open cautiously, sighing and raising my eyebrows, not moving from where I'm leaning against the door frame. "Yes, Henry?"

He narrows his eyes at me and looks past me into my bedroom. I pull the door back to my neck. I know he's looking for someone else in my room, and even though there isn't any one, it's none of his business if there is or if there isn't.

He shoots me a filthy glare when I pull the door back and taps his foot impatiently. "Where have you been?! Why'd you get in so late?!"

I can't believe it. I'm twenty-three years old! I should not have to explain my whereabouts to a little jerk. But I don't want to anger him, and the bed behind me is calling my name. So, instead of making a snap back comeback, that's going to get me into another fight and more trouble than it's worth, I yawn and stretch, showing him I'm tired. "I had a date, Henry."

His chooses this moment to push me up to the cliff. "No dates on work nights."

I turn and quickly my neck snaps to look at the clock on the wall behind my bed. "It's not even nine-thirty, Henry. Relax."

When I look back at him, he's still glaring at me. "No dates on work nights!"

I can't help myself. "Henry it's the first date I've had in five fucking months!"

We had a break five months ago and I'd been home with mum, so spending time with men while I was there wasn't my first priority. In fact, it hadn't even crossed my mind.

Even Luke, a man who I'd grown up with, got the point that he had to leave. And he lived at our house, he was my mother's fiance. They were very happy together, totally in love, and you only had to look at the to see it.

I'd been home for two weeks and then I'd been called back into work, so I left again. Before those very short two weeks, I hadn't seen my mum – my best friend – in nine months.

Spending time away from your family is normally hard … but with my family? My real family? It just consists of me and my mother (and sometimes Luke). So, it wasn't a secret that being away from my mother for eleven months, and seeing her for two weeks in those eleven months, was incredibly hard.

When I'd gone back for the two weeks, Taylor had called a community meeting, something I didn't realise how much I'd miss until I got home and got to go to another one.

Before that, I'd be lucky to get time to call mum once a week. My schedule was hectic, and I couldn't find any time between sleeping, showering, eating and working.

The town agreed to pay for my phone bill if I started calling mum every two or three days, since apparently she'd been going crazy. When she exclaimed she hadn't, she looked at Luk for back-up, but he simply looked at his hands.

He hadn't wanted to go to the town meeting to start with. He never wanted to go to the town meetings, even before he and mum had gotten together and started dating. He was just a very "I'm-Not-Optimistic" person. But that was the way the town loved him, and my mother seemed to love him for it even more.

"I don't give a shit if it's the first time you've had a normal conversation that didn't include work for five years! NO GOING OUT ON DATES ON WORK NIGHTS!"

My eyes narrow at him. I can't help it. I'm going to scream, and he's going to wish he hadn't been born. "THE ONLY REASON YOU'RE DECLARING 'NO DATE ON WORK NIGHTS' IS BECAUSE YOU COULDN'T GET A DATE, EVEN IF YOU WANTED TO," I can see his blood boiling as his face literally turns red, but I can't stop. "AND YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE?! I QUIT!"

I can't believe it. I just quit. And I feel amazingabout it. I watch as his face alters and he pales, his mouth forming an 'o' as he blinks time and time again. "No! Rory! You can't, you're the best reporter we've had in-"

I slam the door in his face, his fish eyes bulging out even more as I smile and try to hold in a giggle. I don't want him to know I'm laughing about quitting from the only job I've ever loved. I know I'll be able to get a job, no matter where I go, but I know I have to go home before I can even begin to think of another job.

My smile takes over my whole face as I realise something; I'm going home to see my mum.

"When. Did. Suitcases. Get. So. Friggin'. Heavy?!" I grunt, pulling my luggage out of the back of the cab.

I called the airport, giving them notice that I was catching the first plane back home. They'd told me I had two hours to get to the airport, and I still had to pack.

So I rang around my hotel room like a crazy person, grabbing everything I could think of and shoving it into my bag.

By the time I got to the airport, I had forty minutes before my plane took off, and I was proud I was able to complete so much in an hour and twenty minutes.

I didn't ring mum to tell her I'd be home soon, I didn't want to ruin the news, but I did send Luke a text message. I didn't bother to figure out what time it was on his side of the screen, but I did tell him what time my flight arrived and I asked if he could come to the airport to pick me up.

I wanted to surprise mum. I should've known than that Luke couldn't keep anything from that woman, no matter how hard he tried.

So I got on the plane, pulled the blanket that the hostess had given to me over me, closed my eyes and fell asleep, making sure I wouldn't have jet-lag, and I'd be able to spend as much time with her as possible.

When I get off the plane and walk out of the gate, my eyes instantly scan the bunch of people until I find him.

He's standing off to the side, away from the bunch of people, looking awkward in his jeans, fingerless gloves, flannel shirt with a white shirt underneath it and his backward baseball-cap.

When I start walking towards him, he looks up, muttering something under his breath, and then his eyes find mine and he a stupid smile breaks out on both of our faces.

I can't help myself. He's always been a second-father to me, so when I get to him, I launch myself into his arms and he holds me tightly, picking me from the ground and spinning me around a few times before planting me back on the ground.

He takes a step back and looks me up and down, putting his hands on my arms. "All good? Still in one piece?"

Taking him by surprise, I step back into his arms and hug him tightly, burying my head in his shoulder. "Thank you so much."

I can feel him stiffen. This is getting too personal for his comfort and he pats my back awkwardly, like he'd do if I was his son or if I'd just won a football match.

"That's alright, Kiddo."

Another smile appears on my face. So Luke has picked up my nickname.

He frowns when he realises what he just said and shakes hi head. "Oh, I spend too much time with your bloody mother, Rory."

I can't help but laugh. I'm glad they finally got together. It wasn't a secret that they'd end up together some time in the future, but I'm glad it wasn't when they were 80-years-old, in rocking chairs and dying when they admitted that they loved each other. "I can tell."

Even though on the outside he's frowning, I can see his eyes twinkle, like they do whenever my mother gets brought into the conversation and I know, without a doubt, that he loves her with the whole of his heart. And, despite what he says, it's not cold and it is beating.

He wraps his arm around my shoulders. "Come on, we'll go get your luggage. You have a lot of explaining to do, little miss sunshine."

I raise my eyebrows as we walk, but don't say anything. What a strange nickname for Luke to come out with. I think he's about as shocked as I am with what just came out of his mouth, but he doesn't say anything so I chose not to, either. After all, he's doing me a favour by driving out here at 4am to get me.

Once we've found my luggage, and nearly pushed over two teenagers who won't stop making-out in the middle of the airport, which had Luke glaring at them and pretending to gag behind their back, we slowly make our way out of the airport doors.

Luke's got two suitcases with him, and I have another, smaller and lighter one. "I'm glad you're back, Rory."

I look over at him as he pulls out of the car park and drives out onto the main road that, when we follow it for long enough, will take us home and to my mother. "So am I."

"It hasn't been the same without you, that's for sure." he shakes his head.

I raise my eyebrows. "Has mum been running a muck all over town again?"

"Do you really need to even ask that question?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the road.

I share a secret smile with myself. No, I don't. And even though the town is going to kill me, for not calling 'frequently enough', it's nice to know that she missed me so much she went crazy on the town again.

"In a town that everyone's crazy, I think she could be elected town-mayor."

"I don't think Taylor would enjoy that." I shoot back.

He pauses for a moment. I know he wants to tell me something, but than he changes his mind and shakes his head, as if getting rid of the thought before he repeats himself. "Mmm. I'm glad you're back."

I turn to look at the sun, that's rising in the distance and lean back, watching it in a comfortable silence with Luke.

This is it. This is what I needed. I'm finally home.