Of all the things that could have been happening to Julie Marc, the last thing she anticipated was to be leaning on a bathroom door in a wobbling plane heading to God knows where.

For the past 3 minutes or so, she had been alternately puking on the sink and leaning on the door as the plane flew up and over the stormy clouds, the likes of which seemed capable of spitting out monsters ready to ravage the lump of metal she was currently on. Julie wiped a damp tissue from the suspicious looking box by the sink across her mouth and sighed.

Her grandmother had been standing outside the door of the bathroom and calling out advice every so often. Julie herself could do no more than groan out a reply to her suggestions as she sagged weakly by the accursed door.

In normal circumstances, she would have not leaned on such a thing as a door which dozens of people must have touched in the course of a day.

Lord knows how many unmentionables have stuck to it while people 'unloaded' in the room but today was not like any ordinary day in the life of Julie Marc.

It cannot be said that Julie is not excited of the fact that she is heading to someplace that promises of adventure or so her grandmother tells her. Her typical summer consists of books, books and more books stacked upon each other and enough food to last her for 2 months, not that she ate enough anyway. Once Julie gets started on her books, nothing could really pry her away, well except her mother that is.

As far as Julie is concerned, nothing gets better than going along with the heroes and heroines as they got into one adventure after another. Nothing exciting ever happens in her life you see. She had long realized that books offer a much entertaining time than you could hope to experience in your lifetime.

She pried herself gently from the door and stood in the center of the closet sized room and tried to determine if the plane was out the turbulent area. A drop of sweat made its way down her neck despite the air-conditioning as she pulled herself closer to the sink to wipe off her hands.

She could just imagine the looks of horror her fellow passengers would showcase as she stepped out of the bathroom, the smell had surely stuck in her hair and clothes.

She grabbed another wad of tissue and wiped herself free of the sweat as her grandmother knocked on the door again. Julie never expected that she would get air sick as she had never been on a plane before. The tomato soup she slurped hungrily for lunch also did not help; she knew there was something off about the greenish tinge of the soup.

"I think the soup was a bad idea." She called out.

"Are you alright Julie?" The voice of her grandmother came back through the door, sounding faint and quite far away.

"Yes, I'm okay. I should really brush my teeth though; I think a whole colony of bacteria is setting up tents in my mouth."

"You must be feeling alright then when you're making jokes like that." With that, her grandmother pushed open the door and handed her a toothbrush, the compact kind that most travelers use, and a sachet of toothpaste.

"Thanks grandma." Julie said while trying to block the view of the sink which must look quite pretty with the vomit and everything.

Her grandmother looked at her face worriedly and so Julie gave her a small smile, taking care not to flash her teeth.

"I'll be at our seats of you need me, okay dear?"

"Don't worry; I'll call if I need help." Her grandma gave her a small nod and left, closing the door softly behind her.

Julie tapped the toothbrush against her palm as she thought of the woman's efficiency. Up until a week ago she still haven't even met her grandmother. Her mother's mother, aged 65 was half French half British and quite the determined lady. She spent most of her life living in London, turning her love for baking into a food empire. Apparently, ever since her grandfather died in a freak accident involving a double-decker bus, her grandmother focused all her attention to their business.

Julie's mother was a Psychologist and had no talent in baking whatsoever. She met her husband who is an American lawyer a.k.a Julie's father, while she was trying to figure out how to remove the eggshells from the batter in their bakeshop while simultaneously setting fire to the oven. How an oven can catch fire, they do not know. The couple left London despite of the old woman's wishes and the rest to say is history.

That would of course explain their surprise when a black, obviously expensive but not flashy, car stopped in front of their house just as Julie found the spare key's new hiding place which was right on the front porch's roof. Looking for possible hiding places for the key became a competitive game between father and daughter.

"My darling girl, what in the world are you doing?" An unfamiliar British accented voice had asked and Julie froze like a burglar caught in the act. No one had ever called her 'my darling girl' before, well maybe her History teacher perhaps who thinks he's actually Minerva McGonagall's fraternal twin…

"You must be surprised to see me Juliane, you have grown to be a very lovely young woman." At this point, Julie spluttered incoherently. No one has certainly called her 'lovely'.

"I must talk to you mother and father. I have a surprise for you child." Julie's ears perked up. What surprise? Julie gets attracted to surprises like Spongebob to jellyfishes.

"Er… Mom's not here yet and dad…" She flapped her right arm helplessly. Her dad was always stuck in his office during the weekdays.

"That's alright my dear, I'll wait for them then. " The old lady had said then patted her cheek and stepped right inside.

Normally she had qualms about letting in strangers to one's house but this particular stranger did seem to know her parents and besides, what could an old woman possible do?

An impatient knock interrupted her thoughts and made her freeze mid motion as she brushed her teeth. She stared stricken at the sink full of gunk and spat out the bubbles and toothpaste. What could an old woman do?

Quite a lot apparently.

Julie stumbled across the aisle but not after trying to air the bathroom by ineffectively waving her arms about.

The woman who came after her gagged a bit and looked at her accusingly. Julie gave her a 'what can you do' shrug.

"Grandma, where are we going?" Julie whispered as soon as she got back to her seat.

Her grandmother sighed and looked up from her book which, biased from what Julie could see of its spine, is entitled The 5 People You Meet in Heaven. Julie raised her eyebrows; her grandmother seemed like the type who reads cook books in flights.

"You're so much like your mother, always impatient." She said. "We're going to Jamaica, if you must know."

"What? Jamaica? Why?!" The girl was expecting to be in Europe at the very least, not that she didn't like Jamaica but she wasn't really the type who likes beaches. There was an accident with a crab when she was 7 and then there was the sand. Tons and tons of sand...

Her face paled more at the thought of spending two months on a beach but then her memory recollection was interrupted by a snort. A highly ungrandma-ish snort.

"You should have seen your face. You're just as easy to 'punk', as you Americans say it. Just like you mother, I say."

"Good one grandma." Julie admitted as she gave her grandmother a disbelieving look. "Since when did you learn that word?"

"Oh, I'm not that old dear girl. I watched Ashton Kutcher's Punk'd on tv."

The two of them looked at each other and erupted in laughter. She might have been absent from Julie's life for 17 years, but it did seem like they've known each other for a long time.