Another 6 years passed.
I was at Kingwood International Airport.
I walked out of the arrivals hall with a backpack slung over my shoulder, squinting into the bright sunlight.
At 13, I had already shot up to five feet seven inches and looked more like a high school student.
At the exit, my mom was holding a sign that read, "WELCOME HOME, JULIAN".
My dad stood beside her with his hands behind his back, trying to look calm, but the smile tugging at his lips gave him away.
I walked over.
"Mom, that sign is a little much."
She dropped it at once and pulled me into a hug.
"A little much? You were away in Asteria for a competition for 3 months, sweetheart. I missed you so much!"
My dad coughed beside us.
"All right, all right. We're in public. People are watching."
"Who cares?" my mom
