Triple Dog Dare *A Zayn Malik Love Story*

Chapter 29

The song for this chapter is Some Boys by SMASH Cast (the TV show Camille is going to work for).

*Camille’s POV*

As soon as I got through security I really regretted not saying goodbye to Zayn.  If I would have hugged him one last time, or looked into his eyes for another second, it would have been impossible to leave him.  It was better this way, but as I sat on the plane getting ready to take off, I seriously considered running back through the airport and straight back to him.  I should be excited for this, right?  So why wasn’t I?  I had never left the UK before, and now I was jetting off to the United States for a job writing for a TV show.  I should be beyond psyched!  But I wasn't.

NBC hooked me up with Business Class seats on the plane, and I was highly relieved by how relaxing it was to not be in the regular seats with screaming kids and drooling, snoring men leaning onto you as they slept.  In fact, I had a window seat with plenty of legroom, a good sized TV screen, and since it was still considered Air Britain and I was over 18, I was offered wine.  It took the edge off slightly and it definitely helped me sleep during my eight hour flight.

When I woke up, the plane had a little less than three hours left until it landed.  I took the opportunity from now until then to watch Water for Elephants.  I’d wanted to see it for the longest time now, but I had never been able to actually sit down and watch it.

The movie was amazing, and I'm positive if I had watched it at the beginning of my flight, I would’ve watched it again before the flight landed.  However, considering I only had about a half hour to wait until we landed, I flipped open the book I was reading, called Jellicoe Road and tried to busy my mind with that.

To my misfortune, my thoughts were preoccupied with the things I’d left behind in England; my dad, Rita, school, my apartment (which I was still leasing so I could have it to come back to at any time), and of course my beloved Zayn.

He was so mad last night.  The thought gave me chills, but what made my head fuzzy was the fact I'd actually left him.  He begged for my forgiveness and I turned him away.

I wrote him so many letters this past week too, each one thoroughly thought out for all sorts of occasions.  I didn't want him feeling like I left without first thinking of him too, but I guess it didn't really matter anymore.  I crushed his heart as much as he'd crushed mine, most likely more.  My heart panged with guilt and pain and I swallowed to keep my throat from closing up.

That was, until New York City came into view.  Hundreds of enormous skyscrapers pierced the clear afternoon sky.  I blinked in awe as I took in the sight of my new home for the first time.  I spotted the Empire State Building, Central Park and Times Square from the plane.  I was so absorbed in the view that I hardly noticed the pilot was announcing our landing.

We arrived at the JFK Airport at 3:30 and were off the plane in less than 5 minutes.  My phone buzzed several times with texts from Rita asking me what happened at the airport and whether I saw Zayn or not, which only made me feel worse.  She knew everything that happened between us last night and I'd vaguely filled in my dad of the situation.

I also received a text from the guy named Mason who worked for NBC, saying he was already at the airport to pick me up.  We'd been in touch for a while now, just brainstorming ideas and getting to know each other because we'd most likely be tied at the hip whenever we had to work on the show together.  He was very nice and he offered to help me get to my new apartment since I didn't know how to maneuver through this giant city.

It saddened me that I had no messages from Zayn.  It shouldn't have upset me as much as it did, but I was having a hard time facing reality.

Working my way through customs was a slow, prolonged process and when I finally checked the time near the luggage check it was 4:30. I looked around for anyone who resembled Mason before heading to flight number #937’s luggage pick-up.  I grabbed a luggage cart next to the baggage claim and kept an eye out for my suitcases.  Not too long after claiming my bags, I continued searching through the crowd of people.