Just A Secret

Florida

I was boarding off the plane astonished, and speechless. Just looking at it, I love Florida, it's different than Salem, Oregon. I grew up there my whole life, and I wasn't expecting actually coming down here when I finished senior year, but now I'm here.

I walk to the baggage claim and wait for my suitcase. Me standing there like an idiot was weird. Because in Salem, everybody knew each other and everyone was friendly, but here. It seemed different, everyone was on their phone talking, texting and passing each other like they're nothing. That's not normal, shouldn't people socialize in the real world than on a mobile device?

I find my luggage and walk around clueless. I stand in the middle of the airport, looking around. Right now, I wish I was back in Oregon. Or at least people should get off their tiny screens and meet new people. Yes, I also have a mobile device, the iPhone 6. It finally came out and I camped out of the Apple Store to get it, but I don't go on it twenty-four seven. That's just ridiculous. It doesn't matter, as long as I'm here and came here safely.

I'm already missing Ryan. We broke up a couple days after graduation and hoping that I could get to see him again. After he told me "I love you," my world just turned upside down because he finally said the three meaningful words to me, but only finding out we have to break up was devastating. I wish I was with him.

"Move out the way!" Some guy yelled at me from behind. Geez, what's his problem.

I move over to the right and the person quickly zooms out of the airport. What a rush. Just from looking at the back of him I could tell he had dark brown hair, great jawline, both of arms was tatted in black ink, and had tight biceps. I couldn't see much of him from the back, but what an ass. It would be nice to say excuse me. He'll get nowhere in life with that attitude.

What ever. I walk around the airport and find myself by the front doors. I exit and hope I could find my car. Okay, here's the long story short; I hired some people to drive my car hopefully safely from Oregon to Florida and paid them couple hundred bucks. It's a 2015 black and red customized Bugatti. As cliché that sounds it's sadly true. My parents forced me to bring it down here when I denied the 2013 white Ferrari for my sixteenth birthday. So, they gave the Farrari to my current ex-boyfriend and he'd drive me to school every morning. My parents will never give up to spoil me. And with that being said, people always question me, 'Why would you reject one of the most expensive car brand in the world?' Well, its a long story and I'd like to keep it to myself.

Walking towards the isle where it says "G station" I grab my keys, (I made another copy for the people who dropped it off and hopefully they gave it back) and click the indicator to see if my car was somewhere around here. Luckily, I heard the corresponding noise and walk towards my 2015 customized Bugatti. I examine it cautiously and slowly making sure everything's in place. I cannot afford to damage this car, I have no time to get a three hour lecture from my mom, and another four hours from my dad. Yeah, they're that ridiculous.

I put my luggage in the trunk. I've gotten a couple of curious stares from men, whilst they check out my new sports car. I rush over to the drivers side and see the keys on my seat. Ah, good at least they are not looking forward to steal it. Or are they?

I put the key in the engine and ignite it. Of course I sit there like an imbecile to wait for the car to "warm up." I don't understand cars nowadays. Especially expensive ones at that. Now, it's the middle of July, I've saved up so much money for this day to come and finally. It's not exciting as I hoped it would be but this will do. For now, I have to check in and start looking around campus. Ever since I was five years old, I've always wanted to be in the forensics field. Watching Law and Order, Criminal Minds, and CSI, it inspired me to do criminal justice or forensics. That's the reason why I'm here, also to get a degree for cardiology, just in case the "detective" job doesn't work.