If I can't have you

one

I look through the windows of the airplane nervously, the mountains below me covered by snow as I try to be positive about what's to come. It looks really cold out there, my father had told me it would be, but I still can't stop thinking about how much I wanted to be back in Miami. I never liked the cold weather, which makes sense considering I've been raised in a place where every season was summer. I don't even think I have proper clothing for this weather, but my dad let me know we could shop once I got there.

My eyes look at the screen in front of me again, an old black and white movie is playing while the little boy sitting behind me with his mother is kicking my seat repeatedly. I want to complain, but I hate having to confront people, especially strangers. She would probably apologize and tell her kid to stop, but I still can't bring myself to do it. Maybe that's why I didn't argue with dad when he wanted me to move to Canada with him instead of staying with my grandma in Miami. My fear of confronting people or even expressing my opinions have always led me to crappy situations, but just the thought of actually speaking up was too much for me.

The little boy finally stops kicking my seat when the pilot announces that we're about to land and I take a deep breath while thinking about meeting my father's new family. He's been living in Canada for three years and even though they're not married, he has been living with Ella and her two children for two years. We speak regularly but I never met his new family because I didn't want to leave mom while she was sick to take a trip to another country.

As I walk through the crowded airport carrying my heavy suitcase, I feel myself bump into something hard. I try to hold my phone, but it lands right on the ground as someone holds me. I quickly kneel down to get my phone, which now has its screen all cracked up, and when I look up my eyes land on the person that I bumped into.

" Sorry." A tall guy with dark curls falling over his eyes says while trying to help me stand up.

I don't even know what to say for a moment, he has to be the most handsome boy that has ever talked to me in my entire life. His eyes have a light hazel tone to them, almost greenish because of the airport lights. He has to be a whole foot taller than me and a small smile flashes on his lips while looking at me, showing off his dimples. I'm about to say something when I hear someone calling my name.

" Camila." My father's voice breaks the spell this perfect guy has just put on me.

" Hey, dad." I say looking at him as he walks to where I am and hugs me tightly.

I haven't seen him in person in years, but his embrace is still as comforting as it used to be. He reminds me of home, of when I was little and we would go to the beach with my mom. She always loved the beach so much. That thought makes me emotional for a moment and I feel a single tear rolling down my eyes, falling right into my dad's coat.

" I missed you." I whisper before we pull away, then I notice we have a small audience.

The guy who I bumped into is still there, and a little brunette girl who looks around eight years old is standing next to him while a blonde woman smiles at me and my dad.

" Sweetie, this is Ella." My dad says introducing me to the woman I heard him talk so much about. " And this is Layla and Shawn, Ella's kids."

" Hi." I say shyly looking first at Ella. She has short blond hair with bright green eyes, probably at her late thirties.

" Hello, sweetheart. It's nice to finally meet you." Ella says walking to me and hugging me like she really means what she just said. " You're even prettier than the pictures I saw."

" Thank you." I say, wanting to hide. I hate receiving compliments because I never know how to react to it.

My eyes land next on Layla, the cute little girl with dark long hair and a pair of green eyes that matches her mother's. She hides herself behind the tall guy, her older brother, when she sees I'm looking at her.