Can't Stop [James Franco Fanfiction]

Ch. 1

Chapter 1

"Call me as soon as your flight lands. There should be someone waiting to pick you up, but I want you to call me and make sure. And the flight attendant is going to keep an eye on you, and--"

"Okay, Mom."

"--Oh, and I packed a granola bar and a banana in your bag in case you get hungry on the plane. I know they have those pretzels, but honestly those bags are just so small and not nearly filling enough..."

"Mom."

"And Cass, don't forget your bag in the overhead compartment again. Last time was such a hassle, really, and we don't need a repeat of the spring break lost luggage fiasco. Honestly, I --"

"Mom!" I groaned, shutting my eyes. My mother was causing a scene in the airport, hysterically fussing over every detail. People sitting nearby were beginning to stare at us. It didn't help that she assigned a flight attendant to watch me, as if I were a little kid. I was 18 years old. This was ridiculous.

She smiled at me, oblivious to my embarrassment. "Cassidy, you're going to be fine. There's no need to be nervous," she sighed.

I stared blankly at her. "I'm not nervous, you're just being really annoying."

"I remember my first day of college," she continued, looking off to the distance as if she were reminiscing about some far-off memory. "I wish I could be there with you. But everything is going to be just fine, you'll get all settled in. Everything should be ready for you when you get to your dorm, just like we talked about."

I rolled my eyes, growing more frustrated as she babbled on about all the new adventures I was about to face. I know my mom has good intentions and is just trying to encourage me, but honestly, I could not wait to get away from her. I just needed to get on this plane and get out of here.

"Last call for boarding flight 318 to New York."

"Okay, I have to go," I said, allowing her to squeeze me in an overwhelming hug. I gave her one last smile and a quick "love you" before slinging my duffle bag over my shoulder, heading towards the gate. I knew my mom was still watching me as I boarded, but I didn't look back. There was no looking back; I was about to have more freedom than I'd ever had in my life.

I was the last person to board the plane. It was a relatively small flight, with groupings of only two seats on each side of the narrow aisle. A few passengers were angrily shoving bags into the overhead compartments, and several flight attendants milled about, helping adjust seatbelts and chatting amongst themselves. I glanced back at my ticket -- 23B, before making my way towards the back of the plane. Realizing that I had an aisle seat, I cursed under my breath and put my bag under the chair. I plopped down onto my seat and closed my eyes, letting out a deep breath.

It wasn't until I heard someone clear their throat that I noticed the man sitting beside me. He was slumped over slightly in his seat, leaning against the armrest near the window, and staring at me. My first observation was that he looked like the most exhausted person I had ever seen in my life -- his eyes were squinted, as if he could barely keep them open. He had two little wrinkles between his furrowed brows. They looked like permanent worry lines. His brown hair was pretty disheveled, a curly mess sticking up slightly in the back. I couldn't tell how old he was, maybe late twenties or early thirties. He wore a red flannel shirt beneath his leather jacket, and dark jeans that looked worn from use.

I must have been taking in his appearance for quite some time because he cleared his throat again.

"Hi," he said, giving me a slight smile. Something in his eyes lightened. He looked at me questioningly, as if he expected me to ask him something.