The Lost Daughter of Thaumaturgy

The Lost Daughter of Thaumaturgy - Chapter 2

 2

It was only 9 o’clock so once I checked out, - receiving the cheesiest smile from the new woman behind the desk who clearly was still a bit tipsy from the night before - I started walking towards the Airport. It’s only a short walk and I’ve walked it before, of course I wasn’t alone then... Stop it Gabe.

I shook my head clearing my mind and concentrating on putting one step in front of the other.  It wasn’t long until I was entering the terminal and heading towards the lines for bag collection. Or rather, what I like to call the most tedious and bullshitting game in the entire god damn universe, brought to you by a sick bunch of sadistic pricks who love a good power trip!

When I was at the front of the line I put my bag on the scale, it flashed up the weight and the woman thread a sticker tag through the handle.

“Profitez de votre madame de vol” She said to me smiling at me like she’d been sleeping with a hanger in her mouth. I returned the smile, although I’m positive it came out looking like a grimace. It’s hard to tell, I’m pretty numb today.

I grabbed my ticket and headed through the metal detectors and past the many rows of security guards.

I hate waiting. I am an incredibly impatient person in these types of situations. Anywhere were I cannot control how long I have to wait un-nerves me. I like being in control, even if it’s a little bit. I know when my flight leaves but I didn’t decide that and now I have to wait for it.

I got up and started walking around, the over crowded bench seats making me feel chlostraphobic. I walked over to the wall of windows over looking the run ways, which I feel completely un-necessary, I mean, we all know were we are so why bother proving it to us with views of asphalt and giant machines!

I kept looking down at my watch every few minutes. A bad habit of mine which does nothing but aggravate me, I mean, what do I want to happen, for time to just magically fast forward just because I looked at my watch again. Not likely. Trust me, I tried it, and felt like a complete tool afterwards.

Frustrated I threw my bag on the empty benches, hopped over the back of the seat and slid down, sulking and pouting my lip out like a little child not allowed cookies for breakfast. I sat there with my arms crossed over my chest and starred at my feet for got knows how long.

“Umm... hi?” I looked up to see a bean stalk of a boy standing over me. He was super skinny with long lanky arms that were covered in tattoos and shag bands. He was wearing baggy pants held up by a belt buckle that had “Life sucks” on it and his hair hung over half his face. “I noticed you were sat alone and I thought you might need some company” he said, looking over his shoulder when he was done to a group of snickering boys around the same age as him and dressed similarly. What is this, Lads vacation from the cutting centre for mentally unstable teens? He extended his hand towards me and I just looked at it, then to his face again and back. I don’t like to be touched.

He retracted his hand and just stood there, looking from me to his feet.

“Um... Bella called, she said that she wants her Emo, socially awkward persona back” I said raising an eye brow and crossing my legs. “I’m guessing that you have a bet going on with the Shock Barrel and Lock over there to either “get some” or at least a fake phone number, am I right so far?” He nodded his head, his cheeks flaming. “So it would stand to reason that you don’t want to go back to your friends empty handed”, again he nodded. So I smiled at him, he’s being honest with me so why not humour him. “Here’s the deal, my name is Gabe, I will humour you just this once since your being honest with me and your friends are snickering like little girls so I can only assume that they think your going to fail. So just to school them and boost your ego a bit, I’m going to kiss you” His face lit up then so I had to stop him “But”, I said and his face fell again “It will last no longer than 20 seconds, there will be no tongues and you will not touch me anywhere other than my arms, Is that understood?” I asked, all the while contouring my features to make it look like we were having a pleasant conversation. He nodded his understanding.

“Thank you” He said “You have no idea how much stick I get since I don’t have a girlfriend” He grimaced slightly.

“Are you gay?” I blurted out without thinking. He shifted uncomfortably.

“Yeah” he finally said. “They don’t know, but then again they haven’t asked, so I’m not going to be laughed at voluntarily” He said, his face going hard and rigid.

I reached out to him then, slowly and said “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine, even if those douches over there are homophobic little ass clowns you’ll meet some one who won’t make you feel like this” I reassured him.

Wait! Your not actually gonna kiss a gay dude are you!

Yes! It’s the right thing to do, and if it means the hit to my dignity then I’m going to do it. Now but out!

Fine but don’t come crying to me when he kicks you in the baby maker screaming rape.

 Ignoring the ever annoying voices in my head, I softly kissed him on the lips. I brushed my fingers through his hair for dramatic effect and pulled away slowly, before eyeing the guys that were stood with their mouths open, looking like complete tools. 

I smiled at him and then let go of him. “Hay, what’s your name again?” I asked, realising I’ve just kissed a gay dude without even knowing his name.

“Darren” he said, smiling. “Thank you, really.” He said. Just as he walked away, I put a piece of paper in his hand with my fake number on it.

“For show” I told him when he looked at me funny, then realised his friends were still all watching and he smiled and waked away.

Well Gabe, if anything you just made your “Good Samaritan List” one item longer.

I swung my bag over my shoulder and walked away from the bench area with a smile stretched across my face.

Note to self: cross kiss gay dude of bucket list.