Hey guys, so I'm trying to make the next chapters longer to make up for the short first chapter. The picture on the banner is of Meghan and Luke, aka, the twins. So enjoy.
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I'm awoken by a rush of cold air. Why am I so cold? This is why.
"Megs, stop taking all the cover," Luke practically whines. My eyes bulge out. The cover? It's my cover, he has his own!
We're on an airplane on the way to California, and more importantly to Caswell. I'm stretched out on my seat and my brother's right next to me. When we got on, they handed out covers to everyone. Not very thick covers, but something nonetheless.
They told us the flight from Florida to California was only 5 1/2 hours, but our departure was at midnight. Consequently, we are asleep, well I was asleep.
I push my twins body away, and snatch my cover back. "It's mine doofus."
Then just because he irritated me to begin with, I take his too. Soon, neither one of us is sleepy. This begins an air battle war.
We start playing tug of war and I'm losing, so I decide to play dirty. I grab the blonde locks atop his head, that match my own. Yeah, I resorted to hair pulling. Sue me.
"Meghan!" he yells, "Let go of my hair."
"Or what?" I taunt.
I never learn.
He turns, fast as lighting and grabs my long pony tail. I should've saw it coming.
By now, we've made enough noise that people are starting to complain.
"Will you kids shut up!?" exclaims an old geezer a few seats back. Well. Who knew old people were so mean?
A flight attendant approaches our seats with an odd expression on her face. "What, have you never seen a little air time fun?" Luke asks her before I get a chance. He can charm the panties off of anyone if he tries.Usually. All the while we still have each other's hair. Mines is starting to hurt.
The lady clears her throat and says curtly, "We're going to have to ask you to discontinue your rough housing." Guess his skills didn't work this time. But anyways, rough housing? Who even uses that term anymore. The last time I heard it was in 4th grade gym.
"Say uncle!" we both shout simultaneously.
"No!" we do it again. People get really weirded out when we talk in sync, but it's not like we do it on purpose.
I stare into his eyes; crystal blue eyes, I happen to own as well. He smirks at me and mouths, "I'm not a quitter."
I narrow my eyes, "Me neither." This could go on forever, but the lady's still right next to us so, we quickly come to an agreement with our twin telepathy.
"One"
"Two"
"Three!" We both let go, and crack up. I never tire of this, but it seems everyone else has becasue they cheer "FINALLY!"
Whatever.
The rest of the flight is relatively quiet. Luke and I share headphones, taking turns picking songs. We have the same taste in music, so my ipod is almost an exact copy of his.
The only thing about me though, is that I like to listen to certain songs on repeat after they play once. Take Mr. Brightside for example. I can't just listen to it once, I have to listen at least five times.
Yeah, I'm weird.
YOU ARE READING
I Am... Undefined
Teen FictionSo, ever played that game where people tell you to describe yourself? I kinda feel like it's not really a game. Or when someone describes you. They try to tell you, who you are. Will you Judge me by what I say? Try to categorize me? "I am who I am...
