A Life Less Ordinary

Meet Me at The Airport part 1

Sang:

I was right morning did come too soon. It was after midnight before I fell asleep. We actually left the house before six. When I asked father why we were going to O'Hare rather than Midway for a domestic flight he just snarled at me, so I dropped it. Still made no sense to me. All of my classmates talked about which airport was better for which type of flight and they all agreed that for domestic the smaller airport was better. I guess the school had a reason for flying me out of the monster sized airport. The idea of finding my way around it had my stomach tying itself in knots. Good thing I had four hours to find my way around.

The airport was overwhelming. So many cars and people rushing around. Father dropped me off at the closest departure gate entrance waiting only long enough for me to rent a baggage cart and unload my belongings. I had four hours until my flight left. I was tired, hungry, more than a little nervous and ready to start a new chapter of my life away from my father's oversight. I found the right check-in kiosk. It was fairly easy to handle on my own. I tagged my checked bags and my shipping box. After placing my items on the security belt, I settled my school bag across my back and picked up my violin case. I had to wonder what I would do for the next few hours. Turning to figure out where to go for the next stage of my strange journey, I smoothed down my skirt and squared my shoulders. I'd long since learned that the best way to counter nerves was head on.

I headed towards security, my Mary Janes clicking across the hard flooring. I was a little nervous, okay lie, a lot nervous. I'd heard the horror stories from my classmates, strip searches, carry-on rifled through, embarrassing question and more. I suddenly couldn't remember which under garments I'd put on that morning. With my luck it would be the old pair I used for practice. I was also concerned that my violin might get damaged during screening. Trying to distract myself, I looked around at the others waiting with me. An older couple stood behind me quietly talking, both looking a little sleepy. I spotted a guy my age in a different line. He was really cute. His hair was a lush brown with a soft wave to it. I had this odd urge to run over to him and run my fingers through it. When I accidentally made eye contact, I realized his eyes were just as captivating. I wanted to warm myself with the fire glowing from those dark brown orbs. I only broke eye contact when he raised one hand and ran his long fingers through his hair just like I wanted to. Now I was drooling I just knew it.

Snap out of it Sang, no one that gorgeous was going to be interested in my weird looks. My mother always complained that my eyes were the wrong shape for our family. Turns out she was sort of right. I got my height, face shape and eye shape from my mother's Taiwanese grandmother, my pasty skin, dishwater blonde hair and green eyes were from my paternal grandmother. So here I am completely boring to look at unless you are close enough to notice my eyes have a slightly different shape. Genetics are weird. I was told that my parents told friends and family when asked who I looked like that I was an odd throw back. That answer was all I ever needed to understand why my mother ignored me and my father pushed me away. I looked like neither of them and they were ashamed of that.

My stomach continued to knot as I waited. The longer I stood there the more I questioned everything I packed in my backpack. Did I have liquid in there? A gun? Maybe a knife? I knew I was being silly, but I couldn't get my brain to shut off. Finally, it was my turn and all my worries were for nothing. I quickly went through security, the agents mostly waving me through. They must have thought I was with the older couple behind me as they didn't ask why I was flying alone. I repacked my backpack with my laptop, tablet and phone and collected my violin once more.

As I stepped away from the checkpoint the attractive boy I'd been staring at, stepped up to me. Without the rest of humanity between us I could actually see what he was wearing. His black dress pants were neatly pressed but not stiff. The white dress shirt he was wearing was rolled at the sleeves and one button undone at the collar. He looked the epitome of casual, rich elegance. Nicely dressed without looking stiff. I looked up and met his eyes, the deep brown was even warmer up close. I was no longer worried about my undergarments as I think they just ignited.