I'm not dead. This is the new rewrite. Enjoy, review & give me love for coming back 3 I miss you all.
Today was not a going to be very good day. It was only six am on a Monday and I found myself on a one-way plane for a trip I was dreading. My only comfort? That I had a window seat. Fabulous.
I sat down, setting my purse between my legs. I took out a rubber band and pulled my dark brown hair up into a ponytail. I hated it when I got into my face. With a quick look around, I pulled out my sleek black phone and checked it.
Eleven new messages blared up at me, my lips setting into a hard frown. Only one was from a friend.
Ten of them were from Devon, my ex. The messages repeated the same thing over and over; I'm sorry, please come back, ect.
I turned my head and closed my eyes, trying to sleep. After a few minutes of trying, I gave up.
I turned towards the voice, my green eyes landing on a young man standing in the aisle, his eyes on me.
"Yes?" I asked, unsure of what to say.
"Can you move your bag? Mine won't fit unless it's put in first." He looked impatient; his blue eyes were narrowed in my direction.
I let out a sigh. I opened the over head compartment and took my bag out, tapping my foot impatiently waiting for him to shove his huge bag in. I pushed mine in as far as it would go and shut it, sliding in my seat. The man slid in next to me.
It was awkward the first few minutes, but he fell asleep just as we took off. I took this time to get a really good look at him. He had honey blonde hair, but it was spiked with entirely too much gel. The glance I got of his eyes made me believe that he had dark blue eyes. I could see slight bulges underneath his blue shirt, too hard to be fat. He had high cheekbones and was overall good-looking. He was my age, maybe even a little older.
Lucky me, I thought, rolling my eyes. The one time I was wary of all guys and so not ready to do anything with them, be it a fling or a date, and a really hot one had to sit next to me.
He did look like the exact opposite of my ex though. Devon had long sandy brown hair that fell in his eyes all the time. His eyes were a chocolate-brown, and for a while it was my favorite eye color. Devon also used Old Spice as a scent. From what I could smell sitting next to him, this guy wore Axe. The guy sitting next to me was Devon's polar opposite, but you could never tell what kind of person lurks underneath all those good looks. I had learned that the hard way.
I looked out the window for a quick second, seeing Los Angeles for the first time from up above. A pang of guilt hit me and the earlier conversation with my mother resurfaced in my memory. I winced visibly.
"What do you think you're doing?" My eyes widened as I realize my mother was standing in front of me. I put down the shirt I was folding to put in my suitcase and looked at her. Dread filled me, making me feel as if I was drowning. I didn't want to have to deal with my mother until after I left. I know, I know, I'm a coward. But how could I look her in the eye and tell her that I was leaving? "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm packing." I tried keeping my voice level for once, and not raise it to scream at her which I do every time we talk. he raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow at me. "Where exactly are you going?" "I'm moving to Chicago to live with Becky." I made my voice confident, and it shocked me. I was anything but. "I just can't stand this town, I can't stand the people, and most of all I can't stand you!" I loved my mother. I tried and tried in the past to be everything she wanted from me: smart, pretty, perfect. It was never enough for her. Still, I loved her. Maybe that was why I was determined to stick with Devon. I'd never know. "You can't just up and leave like this."
"Really." My mother was not pleased. I could tell. "Why are you suddenly deciding to move? I thought you were happy."
She didn't understand – she would never understand.
I was trying to hurt her, to make her feel shocked and mad. That was the only she' d let me go on my own like this. She didn't even want me around, she's said it before.
I put down the shirt I was folding to put in my suitcase and looked at her. Dread filled me, making me feel as if I was drowning. I didn't want to have to deal with my mother until after I left. I know, I know, I'm a coward. But how could I look her in the eye and tell her that I was leaving?
"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm packing." I tried keeping my voice level for once, and not raise it to scream at her which I do every time we talk.
he raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow at me. "Where exactly are you going?"
"I'm moving to Chicago to live with Becky." I made my voice confident, and it shocked me. I was anything but.
"I just can't stand this town, I can't stand the people, and most of all I can't stand you!"
I loved my mother. I tried and tried in the past to be everything she wanted from me: smart, pretty, perfect. It was never enough for her. Still, I loved her. Maybe that was why I was determined to stick with Devon. I'd never know.
"You can't just up and leave like this."
My mom was trying to be rational, like always.
After an hour of us arguing, she finally let me go. She did it reluctantly, knowing I was just going to go anyways, no matter what she said. I was stubborn like that. Plus, my mother and I have never really been close. With her on her business trips all the time, living alone was like living with her.
This wasn't the first time I'd threatened to leave either. And every time, I was brought back. I didn't want this time to end up like all the rest. I wanted to be strong.
He always pleaded with me, tears running down his face. As if it would change anything about him.
"What's that bruise from?"
I jumped in surprised and turned to look at the boy next to me. My fingers flew up to the one on my right cheek. It looked worse than before, all yellow and blue. The skin was tender, and I did my best to cover it up with foundation, but a girl can only do so much.
"I tripped and fell."
He nodded, his blonde hair flopping forward slightly.
"That's cool. So I have a question."
I rolled my eyes. At least he was in a better mood than before the flight.
"Are we going to join the mile high club or are we just going to pretend like the whole sexual tension isn't here?"
If my jaw popping down and the widening of my eyes didn't show my surprise, I don't know what would. My eyes narrowed at my scuffed up Osiris shoes, trying not to yell. What kind of horn dog asks a girl to have sex with him on a plane when he just met her not even an hour ago!
"Uh, nope. I don't even know your name!" I shot him my worse glare and pulled out a book from my bag.
"So? This isn't a relationship. It's plane sex! You don't have to know my name because after this, we'll never see each other again."
"And thank God for that." I mumbled. I was trying my hardest to concentrate on my book.
"Prude." He huffed under his breath.
My fingers involuntarily clenched around the book, probably putting dents in the soft cover. I didn't even know him and he was already calling me names.
A small smirk appeared on his face when I said that. Somehow, I didn't think it was that funny, but whatever. I ignored him and turned to face the window, closing my eyes. Within a few minutes, I was fast asleep.
My eyes popped open in surprise as the plane jilted. I grabbed the closest thing to my hand, the armchair, and let out a girly squeal. The guy beside me just laughed at me. I thought we were dying!
"Relax. We're just landing." He told me, his eyes flickering out the window. He looked anxious, this fingers digging into the armchair, his eyes shining with a childlike excitement.
I pulled out my phone and turned it on. I had been a sleep for quite a while, which didn't surprise me. My neck and back were sore from the hard plane chairs. I stretched and waited for the go ahead to get the hell of this plane and away from the pervert next to me.
"Okay passengers. You may now collect your things and leave the plane in an orderly manner. Have a nice day!"
I waited until the guy next to me got up and got his bag before grabbing my purse and jumping up. I took my carry on and hustled off the plane. I took one look in the terminal and paused.
Well this was not good. Who knew there would be so many people at an airport on a Monday? Panic rose in me and I fought to keep my composure. Being surrounded by so many people who I didn't know had that effect on me. I really hated people.
I needed to move. Like, now. I looked to my feet and willed them to move. Nothing. Left foot, right foot and repeat. Easy enough when your fear isn't keeping you rooted to the ground. I sighed, this was ridiculous. If I was back in Los Ang-
I stumbled to the floor as a force sent me flying. I turned enough to see a portly man push his way through he crowd.
"Hey asshole, next time you could ask me to move!"
I got up and brushed myself off. That seemed to have set me out of my temporary freak out mode. Grumbling to myself, I walked over to the baggage around and sat on a bench, waiting. I hated waiting. Now that I think about it, there was a lot that I hated.
At the sound of my name, my head involuntarily twisted behind me. A tall older girl stood before me. My eyes widened in recognition. It couldn't be, could it?
"Becky?" I stood and faced her as her blue eyes connected with my own.
I was soon enveloped in a hug. I kept my arms awkwardly at my sides for a moment before stiffly returning the gesture. I wasn't big on physical contact. Her long blonde hair swung in my face, temporarily blinding me for a moment.
"I can't believe this is happening. Like, you have no idea how much I missed my best friend! How did you convince your mom to let you move by yourself? You're not even eighteen yet! Did you get in trouble again? You can never stay out if it. The apartments we live in are so cute, you have no idea. We'll have so much to do together."
"Becky," I laughed and interrupted her rant. She was much like a little dog in the way she got excited, "You're ranting. Calm down. Let me get my bags and then you can talk my ear off."
She pulled back a little and with her cheeks turning pink said apologetically, "Sorry."
Tucking my dark brown hair behind my ears, I picked up a familiar brown and blue suitcase from the conveyor belt and turned to follow my best friend through the chaotic airport.
Becky had been my friend since she was in the sixth grade and I was in the fourth. Some boys had bullied her on the schoolyard. I walked over and, true to my nature, clocked them. Instead of telling on me, she had lied to the teacher, saving me from detention. We had been inseparable from then until two years ago, when she graduated from high school and moved down to Chicago, Illinois for college.
We got into her small car and drove home. Becky lived in an apartment complex with about six different apartments in one building. A few months ago, there had been an opening, which I applied for. Luckily, I got accepted so I was in the same building as my best friend. It would make the transition between two totally different cities a little easier. The rent was reasonable and it was in a good neighborhood so it made it the perfect location.
"What made you decide to come here for your senior year?" Becky broke the silence in the car.
I was caught a little off guard by her question. It took me a minute to formulate an answer.
"I decided that maybe being here would be better. I got myself into a bit of trouble. Plus, you know how my mom is," I rolled my eyes, "With her being gone so much, I doubt she'd even miss me. I just needed a change, you know?"
"Are you okay?" Concerned edge its way in her voice. What would drive a person to pack up necessary belongings, leave their friends and family for a new life else where? There were many reasons people uprooted their whole lives to go somewhere else. Very few of those reasons came out of good. Most of the reasons, like mine, came from the bad side of life. Was I okay? It was dangerous question. I wasn't now, but maybe once my life here had started, it would get better. That was the hope, anyways.
"Yeah. Totally." Not.