The Empty Swings(I) in Short Stories

“It’s going to be so weird, seeing everyone after so many years. My anxiety is at all time high.” I jokingly said to my mother, who was going through her weekly newsletter. “You should get ready if you want to make in time.” she replies while bookmarking some article. “What do you think they ended up doing?” I ask her about no one in particular.
“Your generation was a lot better than others that passed your school, I am sure they all are successfully settled somewhere.” she replies as she gets up to grab her cup of tea that I prepared. I hum in agreement. After finishing with the late breakfast, I start rushing through the house arranging all the things I will need for my outfit and preparing a bath. It was drizzling with a grey sky, perfectly summing my feelings about meeting people I knew yet didn’t. A cold day needs a soothing warm shower, so after an hour I emerge out of the bathroom, satisfied with myself and my skincare routine. It is one thing that can get any girl’s confidence up on an important day. With my hair still wet, I browse through my emails once more, hoping to see one from the publisher. There was none. Well, better than a rejection. Looking through my closet, I check if my shoes are there or if I miraculously put them somewhere else again. They were there, but it didn’t hep my anxiety at all, the ticking of the clock at my bedroom wall making the passing of every second evident. I wished for a second that something comes up, anything bad enough for me to cancel but I wished to see my friends, especially few that were always good to me.
I start pacing, thinking up scenarios that started as good but soon develop into embarrassing incidents. Looking out my window, the sky gave me some comfort and a deep breath later I felt better. After fixing my hair and changing the clothes, I went downstairs to ask if mum wanted me to do anything before I leave.
” Nothing, just get ready on time and relax. You don’t need to be anxious about anything.” She replied. ” I know mum, I know”, I murmur.
I climb into my car, waving my mother goodbye as I drive to my destination. “I’ll see him there,” I whisper to the wind playing with my hair as my hands get sweaty once again.