"Passengers sitting in middle class please board." A mechanical voice calls.
I stand up, along with Adelaide.
"No fancy 1st class tickets? You seem like a rich girl." I say to her.
That didn't sound rude did it?
She ponders my English for a second.
"Rich? No, no. I live... alone. My money few." She struggles.
"Ahh, in college I'm guessing?" I ask, assuming she's in her twenties,
dating a nice french boy with a six pack.
She doesn't have time for touristy idiots like moi.
"I go to university, live in Paris." She smiles at me. "My first year alone."
I raise an eyebrow. "How old are you?"
"19 in week." Her smile grows larger. We move to the line of passengers boarding.
"Oh, well happy birthda-mmpphh" Her hand clamps over my mouth before I can finish
Ookkk then.
"Shhh, not yet! Wishing me now, bad luck!" She scolds.
"mphhhmmmmmmphh."
She removes her hand and my cheeks burn.
I'm not used to having pretty girls touch my.... any way I say that is going to sound weird.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know! Maybe this is the reason why my birthdays are so sucky, because everyone tells me happy birthday over the phone 5 days before my actual birthday." I laugh halfheartedly.
She nods in agreement. "This is why you are unlucky."
Superstitious much? I guess so.
We stand in line together, and the obviously bored BOARDING ATTENDANT (see what I did there?) Takes our tickets.
"Row twenty-four seats A and B for you two star crossed youngsters." She says.
Ok, she's definitely from Jersey.
But STAR CROSSED YOUNGSTERS?
"Ah, oh we aren't- I mean, she's pretty but I really don't, I-I just met her and-"
"Move along sweethearts I ain't got all day." My face burns as two very eager flight attendants come out of nowhere at the sound of Jersey lady's voice, pulling me, a flustered awkward soul, along with the very confused Adelaide, into the tunnel and out to the plane.
We get on the plane and are ushered to our seats by the crazy flight lady people. I am just about tired of airports.
"I'm sorry about earlier, ehe- we aren't anything- I mean, I-I think you are pretty." I blurt out. Ya did it now Forrest.
But she smiles, almost gratefully at me. "You are sweet." She blushes.
Sweet huh?
Ten points for Gryffindor baby.
YOU ARE READING
French & Clutz
Poesia"Isn't klutz spelled with a k, not a c?" "You get a c, because you're special. Higher level of klutz. The C klutz." French, style, class, And a boy who is utterly clueless "It's about to get real uhh... sexy" ***COVER ART GOES TO @_grimm LOVELY DEAR...
