Forever Summer | Justin Bieber

Chapter 2

"Often, we pretend to be something we're not as a cover-up of what we're truly feeling inside."
________________

Lily

"Is there a pool?" I remembered asking.

"No, honey, there's not. But I think you're really gonna like it here if you just give it a chance."

Easy for him to say, since he's never home much anymore, always away on location, or busy schmoozing with fellow movie execs. And how could I possibly like a place with no pool? Driving was my passion! I'd spent the last three years at my private school earning a reputation as a skilled and fearless competitor.

And then, right when I finally makes captain, they yank me and send me to some stupid California beach town that's probably filled with pot-smoking hippie surfers named after flowers. I wasn't being negative, I told myself, just realistic.

The flight attendant reappeared with a bottle of water for me and a glass of red wine for the jerk in 2B, who was currently missing in action. "I'll just set this here for when he returns." I said. But by the time they came by with the meals, he still wasn't back.

"Do you know what happened to the person that was sitting here?" I asked the male attendant with deep tan and tightly cropped, bleached blonde hair.
"I think his name was Bob O'Rourke?"

"He moved to 5C. Looks like you're on your own. Do you need more wine?" He asked, motioning toward the untouched glass.

"Um, no. Maybe in a little while."

Then, the second he was gone, I craned my head around and peered down at the aisle at 5C. Sure enough, there was Bob O'Rourke, napkin tucked into his collar, smug nose buried deep into his wineglass.

Carefully picking up the wine next to me, I placed it on my tray. Then I looked around nervously, to see if anyone noticed, but nobody seemed to care. Besides, the attendant guy thought it was mine, so it may as well be. I lifted the glass to my nose and inhaled just like that O'Rourke guy did. Though I wasn't exactly sure what I was supposed to be sniffing for. Was it to see if it's rancid? And what did rancid wine smell like anyway? I lowered the glass to my lips and sipped cautiously. Sometimes I and my friends drank beer and once, last New Year's champagne, but this wasn't too bad. I took another sip. And no one seemed to notice I was still four years away from my twenty-first birthday. Maybe flying first class wasn't so bad after all.

"Miss, Miss. Excuse me, we've landed."

"What?" I opened my eyes to find the blonde attendant with the French twist kneeling next to me.
"Are you feeling alright?" She asked, eyes narrowed with concern.

"Um, yeah. How much longer?"

"We're here."

"What? Oh my god! Okay, just let me get my stuff," I said, running my fingers through my tangled, messed up hair and searching the seat-back pocket for my bottle of water. The inside of my mouth felt like the Mojave Desert.

"Are you sure you're okay?" The attendant asked again.

"Yeah, really I'm fine," I assured her, even though I felt the exact opposite of the fine with my throbbing head and stinging eyes. And where is that damn water bottle?

"Well, we're laying over and our van is waiting, so you really need to hurry." She stood and ran her hands over her tight blue skirt.

"Okay, okay, I'm ready. Do you know where baggage claim is?" I asked.

"You can follow us."

I stumbled behind the flight crew, listening to their laughter as they made fun of Bob O'Rourke, and even though I had no idea what their loved might really be like, at that exact moment I would have traded places with any one of them, no questions asked. Because at this point just about anyone's life looked better than what I was in for.

Okay, maybe on the surface, moving to Laguna Beach, into a big house with a private beach, didn't sound so bad, but it was all relative to what I was leaving behind.

I shifted my bag to the other shoulder and mentally scolded myself for drinking too much, passing out, and generally wasting the past five hours on the plane. And now I didn't even have time to freshen up, since I knew my dad would be waiting at baggage claim. And even though I didn't have time to look in the mirror, I was willing to bet I wasn't exactly at my best right now.

The blonde attendant stopped and turned while the rest of the group continued ahead. "You can take that escalator right over there all the way down to the baggage carousels. Have fun!" She said, turning and rushing to catch up the rest of her crew.

I used the thirty-second escalator ride for some quick damage control. Breath mint? Check. Stila lip gloss? Check. Designer sunglasses? Check. Red wine stains on brand new vintage wash two-hundred dollar jeans? Triple check. Ridiculously expensive wrinkled up white t-shirt with drool stain dripping down the front? You bet. God, what was I really needed a toothbrush, a shower, and a decent meal to soak up all the alcohol. But since I hadn't seen my dad for the month he spent getting the house ready, I was banking the fact that he'd be so excited to see me that he wouldn't notice how I've boozed it up in first class. And speaking of dad, where the bell was he? At six foot three, with a lean build and head of thick silver hair, it's not like he was hard to miss. But after scanning the crowd I didn't see him anywhere.

Oh please, don't let him be late, I thought, heading over to the baggage carousel and retrieving my cell phone from the bottom of the my bag. But when I tried to turn it on, nothing happened. Oh, great. I'd used up the entire battery on the limo ride from my house in Connecticut to the JFK airport. About thirty seconds were saying goodbye to my mom. The rest was saying goodbye to my friends and, of course, Hunter. I sat there with my two oversized bags and wondered what the hell I was supposed to do now. I didn't even know where I lived.

Wow, that was so much writing lol. I hope you all enjoyed chapter 2. Don't worry. Things are going to be happening soon in a good way ;)

Vote/comment if you love the story so far.

-meagen