Give Me Love | 2 | ✓

Chapter 1: Stop Talking to Me

Chapter 1: Stop Talking to Me

Nine hours and four minutes.

That’s how long this flight is. That’s like, five hundred and forty-four minutes. I think I’d rather be back at Lincoln High sitting in my stupid trigonometry class or even running around the track than sitting on this plane trapped in between Bradley Edwards and Drew Rogers. Tanner and Walker are sitting across the aisle from us and Mikey and Jaime are in the row ahead of them. Jaime wanted to come with us- she and Mikey are still together, obviously- so Mikey bought her a ticket just to be all macho. I tried to get both Tanner and Walker to switch with me seeing as how neither of them brought girlfriends along with them, but they apparently hate me, because both of them rejected my offer.

“We’re over, Sydney." 

Bradley’s words uttered just a few minutes prior echo through my brain, each word like a stab in the heart with the world’s sharpest knife. I’m sitting dead smack in the middle of Bradley and Drew, and it really sucks. Like, really. Thankfully, we’re in first class so it’s not like we’re all on top of each other or anything, but I’m still sitting in the row with them and it’s not comfortable at all.

Drew has the aisle seat and Bradley the window. Usually whenever we fly together and I’m not assigned to the window seat but Bradley is, he lets me have it because he knows that I love watching the landings.

Evidently that’s not gonna happen this time though, because he won’t even look at me.

With good reason, too. It’s just because he saw Drew and me. Bradley didn’t give me time to even attempt to explain myself. He just told me it was over and then walked away, coming to get on the plane. He hasn’t said anything to me since then.

The pilot of the airplane comes on over the intercom and says his name before proceeding with some stupid precautionary actions. I don’t bother to listen to them though, just because I don’t really care if the plane goes down at this point; I don’t have a boyfriend anymore anyways.

I’m just hoping that once the plane lands in Italy, Bradley will let me talk to him and he’ll actually listen. If so then he’ll see that we don’t actually need to break up just because of a little, tiny, small, miniscule kiss. Besides, it’s not like I kissed Drew. Drew kissed me.

“Bradley, ple--“

“I don’t want to talk to you, Sydney,” He deadpans, slipping his white earbuds into his ears.

“I ju--“ I please, but stop short as Bradley turns up the volume on his iPod, drowning me out.

I sigh to myself and fall back into the big cushioned seat behind me. I pull my seatbelt over my lap, buckling it into place and take my iPhone out of my pocket, switching it to Airplane Mode before inserting it back into my jean short pocket and taking out the fifth generation iPod that Jared bought me for my birthday a few month ago.

Once I get the earbuds untangled, I put them in and turn my iPod on, choosing the shuffle option. I rest my head against the headrest and peak at Bradley out of my peripheral vision. He’s literally got his torso away from me, pointing towards the window which means his back is nearly to me. Bradley’s staring out of the tiny window as if there’s actually anything to see; I mean, we’re still on the ground and everything, but we’ll be leaving whenever the talkative pilot chooses to shut his face and do what he’s paid to do.

I avert my eyes away from Bradley as I hear a new song- some Bruno Mars song by the sound of it- and look to my right, seeing Drew sitting there with his eyes closed, taping his knee impatiently. I’m not talking to him. Drew, I mean. If I had it my way, I’d push him out of the airplane as soon as we hit our highest elevation. He’s a stupid son of a bitch and I hate him.