Picture of Derek (Max Schneider) on the side.
“All passengers headed to the sunny LAX airport, we have prepared our aircraft for departure and will board by section shortly!” an enthusiastic flight attendant trilled over the intercom.
“Please place strollers in the designated area! Section A, please come on up!”
I sighed as a family on my right stood up and gathered their belongings to board the airplane.
Glancing down at my ticket, I sighed.
Section E.
Looks like I’m last on the list. Tough luck.
“Section B!” the flight attendant announced, “Section B please!”
I sunk deeper into my seat, looks like it was going to be a while.
Closing my eyes, I saw Derek.
Ugh, why was this boy so unforgettable?
Derek was everywhere, pictures of him swarming my mind.
I saw his face. I saw the first time I met him. That dark hair, tow headed boy staring at the TV on the couch of our dorm. I saw my first day at lunch when he saved me from a bloody nose and black eye. I saw his worried face as I was drifting from consciousness after Justin Peace landed a brutal punch on my nose. I saw the tears streaming down his face as he cried, kneeling on the soccer field in ankle deep mud as the rain heavily poured down our backs. I saw his happy grin when we went out to dinner for the first time. I saw the glow in his eyes as sparks flew when we shared our first kiss.
First kiss.
How funny.
It was also our last kiss.
Derek Nova POV
“Crap! Where’s her terminal?” I shouted as I sprinted blindly through the airport, “Damn!”
I ran around the corridor dodging roller bags and hopping over little kids.
“Crap crap crap!”
Good thing I skateboarded here. Only one word can describe the look on everyone’s face when I jumped out of the car and rode through traffic;priceless.
I checked my phone.
10:43.
“Oh FUC-”
“Mind your language,” a middle aged lady snapped next to me, “There are children here!”
I rolled my eyes, “Sorry ma’am, kinda looking for someone here.”
“Hmmph,” the lady snorted as she guided her children away from me, “Just check the flights board young man.”
Flights board?
I ran up to the closest person and grabbed their arm.
“Scuse me sir!”
The old man only needed to take one look at my wrinkled WM uniform, messy windswept hair, and the black skateboard in my hand before violently jerking his suit covered arm away and brushing his sleeve off.
“Unhand me you hooligan!”
Hooligan. That was a new name to add to my list.
“Where’s the flights board?” I demanded, my eyes flickering down to my phone.
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