saving allison [on hold]

i n t h e a i r

c h a p t e r f o u r

After grabbing the first taxi that passed by our apartment, I finally arrived at the airport. I really couldn't have stayed a moment longer or I would've said some things I truly would've regretted. I had just spent the past hour yelling and arguing with my mother. And trust me, an argument with my mother will wipe you out. It started out with me yelling at her for not being there for Aaron. Then it moved to her yelling at me for being immature, and then to me yelling at her for not being there for Jackson. At the mention of Jackson, my mother promptly walked away, just like she always does. Luckily, I had a four-hour flight to catch up on some sleep. I thanked the driver, grabbed my bags, and headed into the airport. I shuffled past security and walked towards my gate. I looked at my watch and saw that I had about ten minutes until boarding began. After deciding that I didn't have enough time to walk around, I plugged my headphones in and tried to relax, still fuming over my fight with my mother.

"Now boarding flight 5672 to Los Angeles California." I jolted awake. Groggily, I rubbed my eyes and stood up. As I was stretching, two small children whizzed by me. Startled, I stepped back, effectively tripping over a suitcase. I quickly braced myself for the fall, but instead I felt an arm grab me before I could hit the floor. I looked up to thank the stranger but found myself alone, upright, and confused. Before I could think further into the mysterious stranger, the overhead interrupted me. "Now boarding first class, business class, and zone one." I quickly grabbed my bags and headed over to the gate.

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my phone. Seat 5F, it read. I scanned the isles and prayed that I wouldn't be next to the screaming children who pushed me over. When I found my seat, I sighed with relief. No kids, just a guy.

"Excuse me, can I get to my seat?" I asked the boy. He didn't reply. Figuring he just was a really deep sleeper, I asked again louder. This time, I received a groan from the boy, who then proceeded to roll over a bit. I cleared my throat and began again, looking around to see if anyone was around to help me.

"Excuse..."

"I heard you bloody well the first time," an angry British voice cut me off. "No need to be so damn loud." I turned to face the voice and was met with the greenest eyes I had ever seen. They were like looking into emeralds, very angry and grumpy emeralds. "Next time, don't wake me up."

"Then why don't you get up and let me get to my seat," I scoffed, frustrated with his attitude.

"Are you telling me what to do?" He asked, disbelief clouding his voice. "Do you even no who I am?"

I was still really pissed off from my earlier fight. My temper was starting to boil over.

"Why should it matter who you are you big headed jerk! I'm not telling you what to do; I'm merely suggesting that you let me into my seat! It's not that hard!" I retorted. Who did he think he was talking to someone that way? All I wanted was to get into my seat. It was truly a simple task. A voice behind me cleared their throat, making me realize that we were yelling.

"Miss, is their anything I can help you with?" the sickly sweet voice of the flight attendant asked. I opened my mouth to reply when a very annoying British accent interrupted me.

"No ma'am, we're fine. I was just getting up" I whirled around to glare at the boy who had suddenly gotten up. He motioned for me to sit down.

"Miss?" the flight attendant asked again. I was tempted to call the boy ot, but what good would that do?

"It's fine. Thank you." I sighed and motioned for her to leave. I grabbed my carry-on and slid into the seat.

"That wasn't very hard now, was it?" I grumbled as I passed him, earning me a glare from the boy. After a few minutes of me staring straight ahead in awkward silence, I figured that I should say something to the boy. I didn't want to leave on such a bad note and make the entire five-hour flight awkward. I turned to say something to him, but found that he was fast asleep. I even poked him to see if he was actually sleeping. I was bewildered with how quickly he had fallen asleep. On taking a closer look, I noticed that he had heavy bags under his eyes. His wavy longish hair was everywhere, looking like he hadn't bothered brushing it in a week. Frankly, he looked exhausted and I immediately felt bad for getting in a fight with him. But he deserved it, an inner voice said. Sighing, I grabbed my laptop, headphones, and pillow, and set up for the long flight. Even though I was still irritated with the boy, I did my best to relax.