Lost

Chapter 2: Flying Out Of Control

Dedicated to stillateenager for being just awesome ;)

"I'm really sorry. I was in such a rush!" Salma apologized quickly, feeling more stupid by the second.

The boy did not reply, his eyes screwed shut and his jaw clenched. He seemed to be struggling to catch his breath from being winded. Salma had started to get really worried, when he straightened up a little. He lifted his shirt to massage the spot. Salma glimpsed a very nasty, large, round bruise. It was about five inches in diameter and almost as dark as the shirt he was wearing.

Did I do that? Salma thought alarmed, but then realized that wasn't even possible. No, of course I didn't. I only elbowed that bruise.

Salma winced, realizing that didn't make it any better.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

Feeling horrible, she stepped towards her victim with an intent to help. He was tall and lean, with an athletic built, jet black hair, a defined jawline littered with a slight scruff, and a unique shade of golden-brown eyes. Noticing his plain, navy blue T- shirt and black skinny jeans, Salma realized he was the same boy someone had mistaken for some sports celebrity earlier.

"Yeah, I think I am," he grimaced, trying to fight off the discomfort in his gut. His tone was loaded with a British accent.

He looked up and tried to give her a reassuring smile, however, the friendly attempt fast disappeared. His lips stiffened and jaw clenched. The boy's eyes travel up and down. A harsher expression took over his features. Salma swallowed, taking a careful step away from him. She was familiar with this reaction and clear distaste that had distorted his otherwise good-looking face.

Her stomach twisted with anxiety when under his judgmental stares.

"My apologies," she muttered, hoping to walk away unscathed.

A cold silence followed. Then, he nodded stiffly. More out of courtesy than anything, Salma figured.

Nodding back in response, Salma turned her attention back to her trunk. She huffed to find it had knocked shut.

At least he had the decency to hold his tongue and not lash out like the others, Salma thought as she inserted the key into the lock. She turned the key. It refused to open.

"Man. . !" Salma groaned in exasperation when she failed on her fourth try. Taking the key out, she walked around the car to open the front door. Salma glimpsed the blue T-shirt student sitting on the hood of a car a spot away with his friend bent over him.

She squatted to reach the lever under the seat when voices carried over.

"What happened?"

"Some clown running around." She heard the terse reply recognizing the familiar tone and heavy accent. "Rammed her elbow into my gut like blind freaking weirdo!"

His friend winced in reply.

Salma gritted her teeth, offended. It was a mistake!

"Rude jerk!" Salma grumbled as she lifted the lever.

***

Buzzing with excited chatter, the bus continued its steep climb. The scenery outside was breathtaking; the weather pleasant; and the students eagerly looking forward to camping in the wild mountains and its thick forests. Salma was sitting next to the window, drinking in the scenic landscape.

The peaks surrounding them stood tall and foreboding. They shot straight towards the sky, with their rocky tips seemingly fondling the heavens itself. The apices of most of the mountains were bare and grey, but the summits behind those were donning a crown of snow that sparkled in the sunlight. Just underneath the piercing tips, the slopes were draped in vibrant cloaks of trees; the usual eye-cooling green shades of lime, jade and emerald, but also of various hues of fire; yellow, gold, orange and red. At various points, silvery ribbons of waterfalls streamed through the trees, down the side of the mass of rock and raced towards its base.