The Calm Before the Storm

Chapter 2

"There must be some kind of mistake," I blurted to the air hostess as I stared desperately at the seat numbers, "I specifically booked these seats together!"

Mornings and I really don't bode well, and with the probability of being separated from Harriet for the whole plane journey looking more and more likely, I wasn't in the best of moods.

"I'm sorry, miss, but there's really nothing I can do. The flight is full, and your seats are the only two still available," she said, with a look that said 'if you don't take these seats, you're not getting on this plane.'

I sighed. "Fine. I'll see you later, H." There was no point in arguing any more - the answer was obvious.

"Yeah. Chill out, La. It's only a two hour flight," H said. It was true, I guess.

I nodded and we found our seats at opposite ends of the aircraft. My eyes fell on a rather gorgeous boy with streaky blonde hair swept across his forehead and twinkling blue eyes. I stopped staring to notice a smirk plastered to his beautiful face and his eyebrows raised.

"See something you like?" He winked, his smirk bigger.

Did I seriously have to sit next to this twat?

"Uh, keep dreaming," I smirked. Two could play that game.

His eyebrows shot up.

"Ooh, witty. I like it," he purred, and winked. Again.

"Excuse me while I vomit, but I think you're in my seat," I said with a monotone. I do not. Like. Flirting. It's almost as bad as pick-up lines. They might as well be called make-me-throw-up lines.

"Oh, sorry," he jumped up and moved, the smirk now gone.

I smiled sweetly and plonked myself down on the seat. feeling his eyes roll up and down my body. I had gone for pale blue denim shorts, a cream lacy blouse and tan wedges, with a tan oversized leather bag and baby pink Ray-bans. I had my thick chocolate-brown hair in a long fishtail plait over one shoulder. He obviously didn't mind my clothes - after all, he was eye-raping me.

"See something you like?" I winked and smirked. That was pretty smooth.

"Yes, actually."

Awkward. I narrowed my eyes at him and turned round. When I didn't reply, he said, "Are you a parking ticket?"

I turned and looked at his ridiculously good-looking face in confusion. That well-known smirk was back.

"'Cuz you've got fine written all over you."

I cringed at what had to be the worst line I had ever heard and sighed, turning back around.

This was going to be a long flight.