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-1-
Eleven o’clock at night and where was I? On a plane to Scotland.
Well, no, not quite. Actually we were on the plane to Amsterdam, which was a thirteen hour flight. From Amsterdam we would board a smaller plane that would take us over to Glasgow (the shopping capital of Scotland; which doesn’t say much for Scottish fashion). That would be a two hour flight.
Currently I didn’t care about any of that because I was busy hyperventilating.
I had been fine up until the boarding. As my passport was triple-checked at the security gate and while finding my seat I thought I heard my pulse speed up a bit. Still, I was doing okay.
By the time the plane took off I was near cardiac arrest.
I could do a lot of unnatural things. Flying wasn’t one of them.
To make it all several times worse I was seated beside an infant barely weaned whose ears had just popped. The baby was screaming bloody murder. The lady holding it seemed entirely immune to the ear-piercing screech. I wasn’t. My hearing was fairly sensitive. So to say I had the tiniest urge to throw the kid out the nearest emergency exit by the time the seatbelt sign switched off was a vast understatement.
Fortunately for the baby and I there was an exuberant lady fond of wailing things who waddled over. She offered to switch seats with me, the better to coo and gurgle at the infant that had yet to quiet. Either she was the baby’s guardian angel incognito or she was completely off her rocker.
Again, I didn’t care. I was up and out of my seat before the lady could regain her sanity. I hobbled over to row 17, seat K.
Maybe the exuberant lady wasn’t so crazy. The letters of the seats of each row range only from A to K. Whereas I had previously sat in the middle of the middle aisle, in seat F, row 9, I now had a window seat.
You would think that was as bad as it could possibly get.
Charis Starling looked over and raised her slender blond eyebrows at me.
We met at the beginning of this school year. We despised each other thoroughly. I no longer remembered what started it, but I did know that the last time I saw Charis before now was in the detention classroom that she put me in.
Con artists will do that to you.
I frowned at her. Charis failed to cower, opting for a mildly puzzled look.
“Um… What are you doing, Duncan?”
I climbed over her to the window seat without replying. Part of me was waiting for her to say some biting remark that never came. I picked up a Sky Mall magazine and tried very hard not to think about the flock of geese passing outside my window.
When I happened to glance over at Charis again, she was fast asleep. The position she had settled into looked mildly uncomfortable. At the same time I was wondering how she managed to fit her entire body into the seat like that. If I pulled my legs up under me and zonked out, they would need the Jaws of Life to get me out.
Her countenance was every bit peaceful. The deviousness lurked underneath the calm like a storm hiding just out of sight on the horizon. Despite what I knew her to be capable of, looking at her was strangely calming.
Although I had never seen Charis look so very harmless and unaware as she was at that moment.
Inspired, I grabbed a bold black permanent marker out of my carry-on. Carefully, gingerly, I drew a Hitler mustache, sideburns, and wrote the word ‘GROOVY’ in capital letters across her forehead. Charis must have really been out of it. She didn’t stir at all despite the marker’s stench.
I capped the Sharpie and bent to return it to the cheap backpack at my feet. When I straightened up, I made the mistake of looking out my window. It was more likely reflex than any desire to actually see what was going on over three thousand feet below.
Abruptly I found myself seated in Charis Starling’s lap. She glared up at me. I grinned back, trying not to draw a lot of focus to her new look. Once the excitement subsided and I returned to my own seat, falling asleep probably wasn’t my brightest idea.
The scent of cooked food woke me. Breakfast? Lunch? I was bleary and disoriented as I opened my eyes.
Mustache and all, Charis was munching on what smelled like an egg sandwich. The sandwich didn’t look very appetizing, and my stomach was much bigger than that table scrap. But then my mouth was watering and my stomach growling.
When Charis finally deigned to take notice of me, she almost smiled. She was wearing headphones. There was a movie playing on little screens that folded down from the ceiling compartments. I could hear the dialog and soundtrack even without headphones.
I waited for her to offer me a nibble, knowing it wasn’t going to happen and hungrier because of it. Yet Charis surprised me.
She extended a hand with that almost-smile frozen in place. On the flat palm of her little hand was set an egg sandwich. It was identical to her own but securely sealed away in plastic. She didn’t say anything, which unnerved me because it had become exceedingly rare that Charis and I could pass one another without the brief meeting ending aggressively.
“Thanks,” I mumbled and snatched the sandwich.
I considered testing the package for holes where she would have inserted the poison. Poison wouldn’t really affect me anyway, unless it was silver nitrate or similar. I took the risk and removed the packaging, bit into the sandwich.
My expression gave me away before I could consider covering up my disgust.
“Enjoy,” Charis murmured, giggling.
Sometime later, we were still on the plane. I had read all three Dean Koontz novels in my carry-on and went so far as to grab the binder full of worksheets for the field study and get started on them. But I was bored. Chatting with Charis was not an option, not only because I didn’t like her but because she appeared to be enthralled by the movie. That or she was faking interest in it so that I wouldn’t attempt such blasphemy as trying to strike up a conversation.
I couldn’t see what was so interesting about the movie. Girl meets a werewolf, meets the man the shapeshifter will turn back into, falls in love with the man. Full moon comes again, girl finds out that man and werewolf are one in the same…
And true love conquers all.
Underworld had been more interesting, and not even half of it was accurate. Then again, neither was Ginger Snaps or Teen Wolf, and especially not An American Werewolf In London.
Totally bogus. Werewolves don’t fall in love. And we don’t bite people unless someone really deserves it. Even then that won’t turn them. Werewolves are born, not created.
The pilot’s voice came over the loudspeaker just then. There was to be some moderate turbulence before we started our rapid descent, and would we please take our seats and fasten our seatbelts (cabin crew too). I fiddled with the seatbelt nervously. A flight attendant passed us, noticed my nervousness, and paused in the aisle on the other side of the man next to Charis.
“Our pilot is very capable, sir,” he said, his brogue just as thick as mine once was.
“Aye,” I said, before hearing myself and turning that into, “Ayeah. Thank-you. I’m fine.”
He smiled at my accent and then gave an encouraging nod before moving on to the galley to be seated.
Both the man in the aisle seat and Charis looked at me. The man sounded German when he asked, “You on your way home then, yeah?”
“Um, we’re on a school trip.” My face felt hot. I hated being put under the spotlight. I hated talking to strangers.
Then we hit the turbulence.
I didn’t realize I was leaning hard against Charis until she said irritably, “Should I go find your mommy to hold your hand?”
Shooting her a glance, I relaxed a little.
It wasn’t intentional. I was aware of that now. Even as she was spitting acid at me, there was something just so comforting in her presence. I couldn’t put my finger on what it was and that bothered me. I distracted myself by digging around in my bag for the watch my friend Stephon had given me my last birthday and slipping it on.
The plane gave a violent jerk as I was straightening up and all levels of shame didn’t stop me from grabbing Charis’s hand. I meant to grab the armrest actually, but surprised myself by not letting go once I had a good grip on the enemy.
We landed exactly twenty minutes later and by then my hand was numb around hers.
The plane had been parked for some time and the other passengers were milling around before I finally pried my hand from Charis’s in order to stand and stretch. In my own naïve little world founded upon denial, nothing like hand-holding could have ever occurred between that girl and I.
Beside me, Charis flexed her fingers and shot me a dirty look. “Next time,” she snarled, “maybe you could do me the favor of ripping my arm right off.”
“There won’t be a next time.”
We looked at each other. Then the moment passed and everyone was leaving the plane in single file.
The rest of our school group was waiting in the terminal. Gareth, Heinrich, and Pendleton counted heads; fifteen of us in all. Then we started through the airport in search of the next gate that would lead us to the small plane departing for Glasgow in three hours. I walked at the back of the group. Charis had gone to join her four friends that had signed up for the field study with her.
Stephon and Eric dropped back to walk with me. Eric complained about the long flight and how stiff he felt now. Stephon and I didn’t really listen, but we didn’t talk much either. We nodded where it seemed appropriate only to indulge Eric.
Finally at the gate, we dropped off our gear. Nobody sat down since all of us remained restless from having sat so long on the plane.
Mrs. Gareth, who was clearly the supervisor-in-charge for the whole trip, called for our group to gather. The twelve teenagers accompanying us, including myself, all migrated over.
Charis’s clique was predominant. There was her best friend Serena Tate, and then Sara Quincy, Matilda Ferris, and Kate Seamus. My clique included only Stephon and Eric and was second largest. There was a boy and a girl whose names had slipped my mind, but they were obviously a couple. Finally there was Lily and Maria, a set of twin girls who I knew only because they were in my math class back at Taft Academy.
The other two supervisors flanked Mrs. Gareth and looked happily blank.
“You have an hour to walk around the airport and entertain yourselves,” Gareth announced. “Synchronize your watches to this time.”
She gave us a time six hours ahead of the time it was back home and five hours different from that in Glasgow.
“And we will meet back here at exactly three o’clock. You must travel in groups of three or more. No one is to go anywhere alone. If one goes to the bathroom, your entire group goes. Or, if your group is co-ed, whoever’s left waits right outside the door. I better not see anyone on his or her own. Points will be lost. All points rewarded or taken away on this trip will count toward your final grade at the end of this field study.”
Lily and Maria shot identical looks of contempt at Serena Tate, who was so far above them on the social ladder at Taft Academy that even three thousand miles overseas from the school Serena didn’t register their envy. They clearly wouldn’t be joining any group with Serena Tate in it. Eventually the twins drifted over to join the boy and the girl whose faces I recognized from field study meetings earlier this year, but couldn’t put names to for the life of me.
I meandered away from the group. Stephon and Eric trailed after.
We walked aimlessly. I had no interest in Amsterdam. Without anyone back in the States to buy souvenirs for, there was no point wasting money on shot glasses from Amsterdam as Eric was doing. Stephon hesitated a long time in front of the postcards. Being a professional photographer, he appreciates little things like the pictures on postcards. He ended up buying twelve for three Euros.
We were the first to arrive back at the gate.
Suddenly Charis was there. She blindsided me, flying at me from out of nowhere. Her normally pale face was bright red. There were still faint gray lines where the Hitler mustache, sideburns, and ‘GROOVY’ had been.
Serena caught her friend’s arm before Charis could get within striking range. Instead she shook her free arm’s fist at me.
“You’ve got some nerve, Duncan Kade!”
I started to laugh uncontrollably. Stephon and Eric noticed the faded marker on her face, realized what must have happened, and burst out laughing also. Charis’s face turned a deep shade of purple.
“Be more careful next time, Starling!” I called as Serena tugged her away from us. “You shouldn’t fall asleep in public places like that, never know who’s running around with a magic marker!”
Charis tried to turn and come back at me. Serena continued to murmur soothingly until the tension went out of Charis and they both turned from me, returning to their other three friends waiting by some chairs near some young men in baby blue jerseys.
Another hour flew by. Then we were on the plane to Glasgow. There were only about forty other people on this flight. I sat between two European football players, two of the young men from the terminal in pale jerseys, both of them half my size and with thick Scottish brogues. I heard my own native brogue coming back the longer I spoke with them.
We landed two and a half hours later, and were forced to sit and wait another hour before we could disembark.
Once off the plane, we headed to the baggage claiming area and then through customs. It took a long time, and when we were finally in the main airport Mrs. Gareth called for everyone to gather around again.
“Toss your stuff in a pile,” Gareth instructed. We did as bid, relieved to be momentarily free of the extra weight. “Mr. Heinrich and I will be going to rent the cars in a minute. Ms. Pendleton is in charge. Before I go, each of you needs to pick one particular partner. He or she will be your partner the rest of this trip, so choose wisely. Do so now.”
Stephon and Eric drifted over to me.
“Who you gonna pick, Dunk Man?”
I loved it when people called me Dunk Man. I loved it so much that I had to restrain the urge to punch Eric out of pure joy.
“You three.” It took us a second to realize Gareth was talking to Eric, Stephon, and I. “Which one of you doesn’t have a partner?”
Reacting on instinct, I pointed to Eric. She misunderstood me.
“Eric’s your partner, Kade? Then Stephon, you’re with—”
“No,” I cut in quickly. “I meant that Stephon is with—”
“So you don’t have a partner yet, Kade? Then you can be with Starling.” I looked in horror at Charis, who was staring blankly at me from across the pile of our stuff. “I would’ve preferred all partners be of like genders since you’ll be sharing rooms at the hostels with your partners,” Gareth continued without noticing any of this, “But not everything goes according to plan. Mr. Heinrich and I are going now. Take this time to get to know your partners if you weren’t familiar before.”
She just had to be joking. Practically all of our senior classmates back at Taft knew Charis and I couldn’t stand each other. The teachers knew enough about us that they never put Charis and I near one another on a seating chart when we happened to have a class together, which was ironically often since we were both in advanced placements in all our general studies.
“Way to go, man!” I looked at Eric. “Starling is pretty damn hot! If not for Serena or Sara, she’d be the hottest one on this trip! I envy you, Dunk!” His elbow nudged me in the ribs.
“Are you mentally handicapped and I somehow missed this before?” I asked.
Eric wasn’t listening as he continued to poke my ribs, hissing, “You sly dog, you.”
Stephon smiled as if he knew something the rest of us didn’t know. I shot him a warning look. The smile stayed in place, but he turned his head away to study a group of Asian girls passing by.
“You sly dog,” he murmured, loud enough only for me to hear.
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Review Responses
Written: You have the honor of being First Reviewer! Thanks so much! Hopefully the changes I’ve made to this chapter haven’t lessened your opinion ;-)
Glacier Goddess: Indeed, they do not. Thank you, also, for vocalizing your encouragement :-P
LondonLi: lol, Oh come on. All the couples I’ve broken up lately have had it coming! Anyway, thanks for all the praise. I’m surprised you’re still with me after all this time! It’s so nice to hear from you again!
Not Safe: Mistakes from the past coming back to haunt me again ;-) I didn’t catch those errors, so thank you for pointing them out. As you can see I’ve made the corrections, and then some, haha. And thanks in general for the encouragement! And YOU have a fantastic day!
Ishouldbesleeping: Cha-reese. Am I pronouncing it wrong?? If so, I apologize! I know how annoying that can be (I’m Nicola but people usually call me Nicole; which isn’t too bad because I usually go by Nikki these days). Thank you for reading and taking a minute to leave that nice review!
ValiantLucy: Thank you! Yes, the 2nd chapter should be up in about an hour. I’m making some final editing touches to it. Hope you’re still reading!