Sex, Drugs & Hollywood Love { editing }

Chapter 01︱Fangirls, Airports & Green Bugs

Chapter 01︱Fangirls, Airports & Green Bugs

"I know it's a cliche, but the whole family is just whacked. I mean, we're all out of our minds. They're the funniest, most eccentric bizarre people I've ever met, my siblings."  — Dana Carvey

"Leah?"

I, being the impatient person I am, slumped even lower in the seat I had plopped into an hour or two ago and hadn't moved from since and watched the thin, pretty woman at the gate whom was calling out last names from tickets. I had been sitting in this seat for God knows how long, and my last name had been yet to be called, and I was growing more annoyed and impatient by the second. Mustering a tense smile at the lucky woman who had gotten called with the cute, small child wearing a Dora backpack, I watched as she approached the baggage claim, dumping the multiple bags she had into stacked red trays. Slowly, the mother with the child rummaged through the trays, obviously confirming her items were all there.

Once again the trays were carried back to their original spot, getting scanned by cameras, who were controlled by tired looking police officers who were drinking from over-sized Starbucks cups, which I would love to have right now. It was a boring job — checking to see if there were any items that shouldn't be taken into the country, when it rarely happened, so instead, you ended up looking at people's clothes and various other items.

"Miller?" the woman looked up from the ticket, studying me as I approached her after mentally cheering. Nervously, I adjusted the straps to my bright red messenger bag I had bought especially for trips, which had various charms and bracelets on the chains and contained my iPad, phone, keys, wallet and books and other things that me kept me entertained during the long plane ride. Smiling at the woman, I nodded slowly to confirm that my last name was Miller.

"Callie Miller, yup, uh-huh, that's m-me," I stuttered, caught off guard for some reason as I looked at the woman, whose tag on her chest read Heather, which was a nice name, to be honest. Heather was a pretty lady, tall with a thin body and a smile that made you want to smile as well, which probably came handy for her job, seeing people come and go. 

"What brings you to California, Callie?" Heather curiously questions me, her tone soft. I eyed her, frowning slightly at her curiosity. Since I didn't answer, awkward silence filled the space between us as we watched as luggage got snatched by stressed men and women, muttering something about hurrying to their next flight as the distant buzz of feet shuffling cascaded around us.

"Just visiting for the summer, nothing much." I finally answered with a small smile, snapping back into reality as I offered her a short and sweet response. Sighing, I ran a hand through my long blonde hair absentmindedly, something I often did. It happened mindlessly when I found myself feeling uncomfortable, nervous, or just had no idea what to do with my hands — meaning it happened often.

"Well, be safe. It's not all the billboards claim to be, dear." Heather said, lowering her voice down to a whisper for some odd reason, which I found quite strange and didn't bother to hide it. Giving Heather a bizarre look, I nodded slowly as if she had lost her mind, but kept my mouth shut so I wouldn't say anything rude. Sighing softly as if she understood my confusion, Heather turned her attention to the conveyor, silently watching bags pass. After a couple of awkwardly quiet minutes, I spotted a large, blood red suitcase that had just arrived along with a black duffel bag, the charms jingling as they were pushed down the conveyor and headed towards us.