Noodle Boy | Jachary | Book One

Forty-Five

Last Part Of Noodle Boy/First Part Of Rosy-Cheeked Boy

Jack

Zach and I were strong. It has been half a year but it felt like years. We never had an argument, well, that is until now. I wouldn't nesessarily call it one, but it fit.

"Jack how did that happen!?" Zach asked in a scared and angry tone into the phone. I sighed and ran my hand through my curls, glancing around the airport that was foreign to me.

"I don't know!" I said with a deep breath. "I probably got in a gate too early." It was right; I had gotten on the wrong flight to heaven knows where.

Zach groaned on the other side of the line before saying, "We were going to United Kingdom, but you are- Where?" I peered around the airport to find a sign that can tell me where I accidentally flown too, and I almost started walking away to find someone to tell me when I spotted a sign that read Italy.

I was in Italy while Zach is in the United Kingdom.

"Italy." I said quietly. It wasn't that far away, but it didn't help that I didn't know a single Italian word due to only learing Spanish and French in school.

"What!? Italy!?" He shouted loud enough for me to pull away from my ear and it to radiate through the Airport. People that were the closest to me turned to give foul looks or confused ones but I shrugged them off and answered him.

"Yes, Italy." I sighed. "Maybe I can find someone who speaks English and ask them to help me out of here." I glanced around but people kept stepping around me, past me, as if they didn't know me.

"Hmph." I shook my head and started walking towards a large booth that looked like it was for questions. As I got close, Zach said, "Get here carefully."

"Don't worry, babe. I will. I love you." I spoke to him with a small smile. A thousand and some more miles away and in a bad situation, he can still make a grin appear on my face.

"I love you too." I pulled the phone away from my ear and pressed the red button before slipping it out of sight into my back pocket. I approached the booth with caution, afraid that I would be stuck here.

I adjusted my glasses as I rested my other hand on the desk. The man in the booth turned to me with a confused look as he gazed at my hair. He shook it off before asking, "Cosa ti serve, ragazzo dai capelli ricci?" "What do you need, curly haired boy?"

"Um..." I paused before he said, "...Inglese..?" "...English..?" I remembered only a few words from my friend who decided to major in Italian speech. The man in the booth just rolled his eyes before looking over to a girl sitting on her phone in the booth.

"Adalie." He spoke. She stood and eyed her father before bringing her eyes over to me. She was dressed casually, with a white shirt and black sweatpants, as if she never planned on going out.

"Si padre?" "Yes father?" She asked before glancing at me. I sighed and her father answered.

"Questo ragazzo parla solo inglese. Puoi essere un traduttore per lui fino a quando non trova la strada?" "This guy only speaks English. You can be a translator for him until he finds his way." She nodded at him before she turned to me, noticing my confused look. She laughed before answering me.

"Do not worry. He only told me to help find your way around." She clambered over the desk, dismissing the door and her father's scolding words, and joined me on the other side of the booth. She gave me a smile as she led me away from the booth. "To where?"

"Well," I started. "I was supposted to be flying to the United Kingdom, but I believe I got into the wrong gate. I just need to know where to go to get back to the United Kingdom, really." She nodded and waved me over to a big sign hanging from the ceiling. I didn't understand what it said, but it seemed as if she knew off the top of her head.