The Gang Girl

Chapter 2- Nicknames and Memories

Paper Towns is an interesting movie. But Cara Delevingne's eyebrows! I don't see the obsession, I'm sorry to any die hard fans out there.

I sigh as I scroll through the list of new releases on the in-flight entertainment thing.

Scrolling...

Scrolling...

Ooohhh, The Scorch Trials!

My conscience screams in my ear. I internally cringe at it but click it anyway. Besides, Dylan O'Brien is yummy.

Before the movie starts, I pause it and climb out of my chair to pace the plane and visit the bathroom. Damn human necessities, making me scramble to get around the gorgeous person sitting next to me.

Gorgeous? WTF? Girl, get it together.

I snap at my conscience and grin when it cowers in a corner.

Damn right bitch.

I smirk at the people giving me looks as I walk by. Especially the males. Idiots wouldn't know what hit them if I kicked them in the balls.

I stroll back to my seat after doing my stuff. The businessman appears to have gotten up to do god only knows what. So it's just me and blue haired boy.

Well boy isn't correct. More like young man.

Strong Jawline.

Piercing, green eyes.

His build is filled out and by the way, he appears crammed in his seat and from what I saw at customs, he is probably over 6 foot.

"Checking me out?" An amused voice rumbles and I look up, embarrassed on the inside but on the outside, I'm smirking.

"Oh, of course, baby," I purr.

"Confident little thing, aren't you?" He laughs.

"Confident hell yes, but Blue, don't let height deceive you."

He cocks an eyebrow at me

"Blue?"

"Your hair and, well, I don't know your name," I state and he rolls his eyes at my logic. Asshole.

"You could have asked," he replies back to me in a duh tone.

"Where's the fun in that?" I say this as I scramble back into my seat, taking care not to sit on my beats earbuds. I will cry if they ever break.

Someone needs to redesign planes with way more leg room and moving space, because sitting cramped in a tiny seat, against the window, where you have no space to spread your legs, is torturous. Plus trying to get around the people blocking your path to freedom... Um, I mean the aisle.

"Well, if you don't want to use proper names, you'll just have to get used to the one I give you," he says.

I swear to god, if it's some demeaning title, like Shorty, I'll throw him out the emergency exit. With no parachute. Laughing.

But he's so cute.

My conscience squeals.

No. We aren't here for this, remember?

I mentally reply back and she goes quiet at the reminder. Probably for the best she shuts up before she convinces me to do something I shouldn't.

"Oh really? And what name have you decided to bless me with?" The sarcasm in my tone is spectacularly obvious.

"Well, fighter, those boots look pretty wicked." He grins at me.

I freeze. No one but my secrets should know my nickname. They shouldn't know I'm even here.