Rules Are for the Weak

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER ONE

On the day of my Europe trip, I almost died.

Really.

I was lost in a deep sleep, somehow dreaming that a bear was in my house, when a piercing scream woke me up.

"IT'S TIME! IT'S TIME! IT'S TIME!" My best friend, Madison, shouts. She's jumping on my bed, slapping my legs when I fly up from the mattress.

"Jesus, Madison! You couldn't have come inside to wake me up more calmly?"

She laughs, her blonde hair falling behind her shoulders, "Nope. Not when we're leaving to Europe today."

My ears perk up like a dog, and for a moment, I forgot what today meant. I rub my eyes and stretch before climbing out of bed, feeling like a hot mess when Madison looks prim and proper.

"It's 9am, why are you so cheery and pretty?" I groan.

"It's the day of our European adventure, gosh Hadley, why are you such a Debby Downer?" She asks. I shoot her a look; she has a point. Although I'm not a morning person whatsoever, I shouldn't be so negative on the first day where my dreams will come true.

Madison waits on my bed while I jump in the shower, taking my time using my best products that I won't have for two weeks. Instead of having to deal with packing the right size of toiletries, I bought travel products that work just fine. They aren't my usual products, but they'll do.

When I hop out of the shower, I wrap myself in a towel and head into my room. "What should I wear on the plane?" I ask Madison, whose too busy reading Cosmopolitan Magazine to respond. I look at what she's got on: tiny black yoga pants, a white tank top, and a hot pink Victoria's Secret jacket wrapped around her waist. I frown. Luckily for her, Madison was blessed with a great metabolism. The girl doesn't gain weight.

I, on the other hand, am a bit curvy. I don't have a completely flat stomach, my legs sometimes chafe when I walk, and my breasts are bigger than average. My face is my best feature, I think. My face is pretty slim and my green eyes pose as a distraction from my other flaws. Plus, I have beautiful hair. I'll admit it. I've never died my brown locks, so my straight brown hair is extremely healthy.

I decide to dress somewhat similarly to Madison and pick out black sweatpants (one's that aren't too tiny and tight), a gray V-neck tee, and grab a black jacket in case the plane gets cold. In California during August, it definitely isn't sweater weather, but bringing a backup jacket on a plane never hurts.

I blow dry my hair quickly and brush it before putting it in a high pony tail, and decide against wearing makeup. I'll be on a plane for 10 hours, why would I wear makeup for that? Of course, I don't tell Madison that. She will get ready for any and every event. Even to go to the grocery store. I love my best friend to death, but sometimes we are so opposite that it's scary.

After I get ready, Madison and I head downstairs where her parents are sitting in the living room with mine.

"You girls ready?" Her father asks.

We look at each other and smile. "More than ready."

"Had and Mad take Europe!" Madison yells, waving her hands in the air. Our parents laugh and cheer, then we get ready to head to the airport. We decide to drive in Madison's parent's car, because they have a Suburban that seats like a million people, and my family car only fits 5.

"What terminal are we dropping you ladies off at?" Her mother asks.

Madison looks down at the information sheets we were given, "Um, terminal seven."