I'm Not That Girl

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

I didn’t know how to respond. I reached over, and squeezed Nick’s hand. Then, I did what anyone would do in a situation like this- I pressed the button for assistance. Almost immediately following, a flight attendant came rushing over.

       “Is everything alright?” she questioned, as an annoyed look passed over her face once she realized I was a student.

       “No,” I said.

       “How can I make it better?” she said in a cheery british accent, though, her teeth were clentched.

       “The boy sitting across from me was just harassing me,” I accused.

       “Him?” she asked, turning to face him. The second she laid her eyes upon him, my case was over. I hated Cam for being irresistibly gorgeous. Her expression changed, and she was now smiling flirtatiously. Ditz. “Sir, were you pestering this young lady?”

       “No, of course not,” he denied, winking.

       “Well, then, I’m sorry, Miss, but I can’t help you,” she said with not a trace of sympathy in her tone.

       “Okay, first of all, he’s a minor, and way out of your league, and, second of all, can you reassign his seat?” I demanded.

       “No, I’m not at liberty to do so,” she said. “How old are you?”

       “Twenty one,” Cam lied.

       “Liar,” I mumbled. “He’s seventeen.”

       “Only a couple years off..” she said, making her way back to the front of the plane.

       “Cameron?” Nick asked, finally assuming a spot on this planet.

       “Yeah,” said the boy across from me.

       “Why are you here?” he asked.

       “Yeah, Cam, why the hell are you here?” I asked.

       “Because I just transferred to your school,” he said easily.

       “You have got to be kidding me!” I laughed, not believing him.

       “Oh, Elle, you know me well enough; I don’t kid,” he said seriously. 

       “Why?” I demanded, knowing that he was being one hundred percent truthful.

       “Because after all you told my mother, she called your father, and then BAM! I transferred!”

       “Dr. G!” I yelled to the young teacher a few seats in front of us.

       “What’s up, Elle, is the plane too dirty or something?” he asked after coming over to us. He was a new teacher, and wasn’t used to the craziness of all the stuck-up kids yet.

       “See the dude across the aisle from me?” I pointed to Cam.

       “You mean Mr. Prescott?” 

       “Did he transfer?” I asked nervously.

       “Yes,” the teacher nodded.

       “No. No. No. No! No! No! N-”

       “Elle, chill, it’ll be fine,” Nick promised, smiling brightly at me.

       “Nick, you don’t know Cameron.” He didn’t comprehend who Cam was. All Nick wanted to see in the world, to a degree, was good- something Cameron wasn’t.