Finding Paris

Extremely, Severely Misplaced

Finding Paris

Chapter Three: Extremely, Severely Misplaced

I cranked up the volume of my iPod to stop myself from screaming my head off in annoyance. Maroon 5's song, Wipe Your Eyes, blasted through my earphones. I leaned back in my seat and squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the crowds of angry, chattering passengers. Could you all please shut up? We're all kind of pissed here.

We were all cramped up in an airport office waiting for the final decision of the airlines. Aparrently, we all had to stop over here in London due to unfavorable weather conditions, as the captain had announced. How ironic! I think London is actually just a few minutes away from Paris. One woman with really big hair tried to reason with the captain that her ex-husband was getting married in a few hours and that she had to be there to keep him from making the biggest mistake of his life, but the captain answered that the safety of his passengers mattered more to him. The woman looked absolutely livid.

Oh and Jared?

He was snoring right next to me.

My mother had dropped me off at the airport and with a million reminders, a few hugs, and another million reminders, she finally let me go. I found my way around the airport going through the neccessary procedures and handing over a million documents at a million booths with scary-looking men and women studying my face and my papers. Madame Devereux gave me a call wishing me good luck and a safe trip just as I walked to my gate number. She said Jared was already waiting at our gate. When I got there, I immediately spotted Jared. He was wearing expensive-looking aviators with his white button down shirt clinging to all the right places. His jeans were branded and so were his shoes. He was charmingly talking to some pretty red head who kept on biting her lower lip and smiling flirtatiously at him. I took a seat at the bench opposite them and buried my nose in a novel I brought with me. We didn't even acknowledge each other, although I did consider it. My mother did raise me with proper manners, after all, but it seems like social graces weren't in this guy's vocabulary.

When we boarded the plane, our seats were right next to each other in the first class section. The only contact we made was when Jared handed me a bottle of water from the stewardess, but i doubt it was a gesture to touch the pretty stewardess's hand and not to actually graciously give me provisions. Jared would probably be the last person in the world who'd care if I lie shrivelled up and dying of dehydration under the heat of the sun in the Saharan desert. I had not attempted to make conversation with him, knowing he probably already hated me, and that I sucked at small talk.

As soon as the plane took off and was flying at a stable pace, and I have actually thought of a good conversation topic, the red head from the airport came by our seats, and Jared went with her to who knows where. I sighed and allowed myself to relax and enjoy first class services all by myself. Airplane food isn't so bad, after all. The lamb chops were actually pretty tasty. I had not seen Jared since, not until the seatbelt sign flashed, indicating our descent. He returned to his seat, his slender nimble fingers quickly buttoning up the tops of his shirt. I looked away. It was obvious then what he's been up to the entire flight. i heard him buckle his seatbelt and pretended that the fluffy white clouds were the most interesting things in the world to observe.

And now, he's knocked out cold, and we still haven't said a word to each other.

A lady in a navy pant suit stood at the center of the room, catching all of our attentions. She cleared her throat and I quickly pulled out my earphones and stuffed them in my bag.  

"We are terribly sorry for the inconvenience, ladies and gentlemen, but we cannot push through to Paris, France as of now," says the woman in a British accent, "We have scheduled a flight first thing in the morning tomorrow if the weather conditions are looking up. We shall keep you posted about this although it is suggested to spend your time here in London for Paris is pretty close now, anyway. Meanwhile, our airlines is offering you a one night free stay at the Fountain Suites, a five star hotel, very well known here in London, complete with dinner and breakfast for tomorrow morning. Our shuttle is now waiting for you at the airport exit and is ready to take you there. Again, we are terribly sorry for the inconvenience. Thank you for travelling with us."