Wanderlust

8. London.

I put on my Beats headphones when I first take my seat on the private jet. I don't feel like talking right now, I only want to sleep and sleep and sleep until I no longer feel tired anymore. I sigh, laying down on this type of sofa. Ah, finally, some rest at last.

When I close my eyes, no sleep comes to me, making me feel even more tired. I just stay with my eyes closed because I really don't feel like talking or anything. Yeah, maybe Ricky might be awake and want to talk about stupid things, but this time, I'm not in the mood for some reason.

After running ideas in my head to make sleep come to me, I wake up and sit up. Ricky is not sleeping. He is sitting down, using his computer.

"That was a nice fake nap." He chuckles.

"It wasn't even fake," I roll my eyes.

"Hmm," He hums. "I know how you look when you're sleeping. Don't think of it as creepy either."

"I guess we will never know." I sigh.

Isn't that actually weird? You know, Ricky knows how I look when I sleep. When did he actually have the time to focus on me? Yeah, we have been on this trip for a month or so, but during all this time, he has been the one who goes to sleep early and has been the one who gets distracted a lot. How does he even know how I look when I sleep?

It's stupid to be thinking about this, but it something that bothers me.

"Okay so, you know how you don't like your parents, right?"

I roll my eyes. "I don't exactly hate them, Ricky."

Yeah, I hate them, but on the other hand, I hate them. Does that make sense?

"Okay, yeah, whatever, I'm surfing the internet and ran into this," Ricky hands me his computer. There's a picture of my parents at a bar, the more down I go, there's pictures of them getting thrown out and later, the police putting them in their car. I actually had a hard time trying not to laugh at this. "I thought your parents hated each other." Ricky laughs.

"Oh, they do," I laugh. "I will have to call later and see what happened because I feel like this is a good story."

"Of course."

I lay back down, closing my eyes and just thinking. Who knew I would be going on this trip, especially with Ricky. I honestly thought he would be to busy to even go on trips because he is claimed to be a workaholic. I really am grateful that I can be on this trip. If it weren't for Ricky, I would probably be at my parents home, watching Netflix all day and be in my sweats.

After another eight hours have passed, we are at our destination, which is London. This is something that I have never told Ricky. I have been to London, but when I was like ten. When my parents were happy and not always arguing all the time.

"Angel face," Ricky calls me over to where he is putting our things in the car. "How many things do you have in here?"

"I did not bring a lot of stuff, actually." I chuckle.

"Sure you didn't." He says sarcastically.

I notice Ricky a little bit tense right now. On the flight, he was chill and was just talking about stupid things, but once we landed in London, he looks nervous, scared, he is showing all these type of emotions. There has been a lot of times where his emotions has changed, but it's mostly because of something stupid, if you really think about it.

The last time he was like this is when he went out on that date with Shelby. I didn't find out every detail of that date, but I'll ask him soon. I wonder if Ricky is bipolar? Once we get into the car, he has a death grip on the steering wheel.