Crazy, that's what.

6

For the fifth time, Isaac's number went straight to voicemail.

Sighing, I dropped my phone in my pocket, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. The Kingsford Smith airport was big and everyone seemed to be in a hurry. The only other person I could see who wasn't rushing was a man in his late forties and he just looked lost.

Yes, I was in Australia. You didn't think I would let my father's refusal stop me did you? You should know me better than that.

Squaring my shoulders, I grabbed my luggage, heading straight for the taxis lined up at the entrance. I went to the first one, knocking at the rolled up window. "'Um hello?"

The windows rolled down, revealing a man with shades. I noticed the smoke escaping his lips and the cigarette in his hands, inwardly grimacing.

"Good day."

I forced myself to smile. "Hello. I need to go somewhere."

I couldn't see his eyes but I could swear he rolled them. "What else would you have come here for?"

I nodded, feeling stupid. "Right. Of course. I'm sorry."

The man took of his shades, giving me no time to process the stark colour difference of his eyes as one was blue and the other brown before glaring at me, his voice filled with scorn. "You're British?"

"Oh yes I ..."

"I hate British people."

I blinked. "Y - you do?"

"Yes." He replied strongly. "Each and everyone of you. You're all good for nothing."

My defense was automatic. "Alright listen here you bloody wanker ..."

"Hello! Excuse me! Over here!" He had rudely cut me off to wave at someone behind me. He hurriedly put on his shades as the person got closer, a man in a business suit. To show how mature and responsible the adults of today we teenagers are supposed to be looking up to for future guidance are, Mr Business man didn't even bother to ask why the taxi man was calling him when I was clearly a willing passenger before he got in, muttered a place I couldn't hear to the driver and they were off, leaving me standing there with my mouth opened.

Bloody hell.

To think that that happened. In real life. To me.

I angrily yelled at the long gone vehicle. "What the bloody hell was that? That was rude you cunt!"

"There are rude people everywhere."

Another taxi man drove closer to me, his window rolled down to give a view of his friendly face. "Good day."

I huffed. "Good day Sir. Are you going to take me or you'll be rude and drive off on me too?"

He smiled. "I'll take you. Get in."

I let out a relieved sigh. "Thank goodness. Get me to Park Hyatt hotel."

He talked as he drove. "Welcome to Australia."

I smiled. "Thank you. My father would kill me if he knew as I here."

He chuckled. "Let's hope he never finds out then."

"Amen to that."

He chuckled again. "So how are you going?"

I blinked at the odd question. "Uh, by you. You're driving me."

His shoulders shook in laughter. "No no no. How are you going?"

I was still confused. "By taxi? Vehicle? On the road?"

He was still laughing. "No no. It means how are you? How do you do?"

"Oh. That makes sense. I'm fine. I'm wonderful."

He'd laughed so hard he had to wipe tears from his eyes. "You Americans are so funny."

I blinked. "Excuse me I am not American. My accent is clearly English."

He waved it off like it was nothing. "American accent, British accent, same thing."

I edged forward in my seat. "No, it is not. That's like saying your accent is the same as the people in New Zealand and that is not true because there is a difference. I've met a few Americans, I sound nothing like them. I've never even been to America."

"Hmm." He said, his brows furrowed in thought. "Well you should go. It's a nice place."

I folded my arms, staring out the window. "I'll keep that in mind."

The rest of the ride was silent, neither of us speaking till we got to my destination. He got up to help bring out my travel bag. "Here we are. That'll be fifty Australian dollars."

I smiled sheepishly. "I don't have that."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Give me my bag!"

"Give me my money!"

"I don't have your money!"

"Then I can't give you your bag!"

A taxi man and his passenger dragging the passenger's bag. Not your typical everyday scenario.

"Let go of it!"

"No! It's my bag, you let go of it!"

He let go.

I had no idea he was going to and I had for some reason let go the same time he did so the bag travelled straight out of our hands to hit someone smack in the face.

∆∆∆∆∆∆

I'm dying.

I'm dying from lack of knowledge.

I don't know shit about Australia or Britain for that matter. I had to google everything. I need help.

This is the shortest chapter I've written in this book.

BTW, do Australian people call their money Australian dollars or just dollars?