Sitting on the plane with Alistair, I tried to come to terms with my new name - Sylvie Schwartz sounds like shorts and reminded me of soggy baby spinach leaves. Sylvie Olivia Schwartz. SOS. Sorry.
Couldn't the agency have hooked me up with someone who didn't have a surname starting with 'S'? It should have been a rule in their database, exclude y if they have the same first letter of their surname as x's first name.
Alistair is a town planner. The agency must have seen 'interested in architecture and design' on my profile and seen 'town planner' on his and thought 'wow, here's a match made in heaven.' It demonstrated how the agency didn't know anything about architecture and design.
Sure, he wasn't ugly, he was pleasant to look at, and he was easy to talk to, but there weren't any fireworks going off in my stomach. He wouldn't tell me our honeymoon destination, not even when we got on the plane. He was trying to be romantic and give me a surprise.
'How long is the flight?'
'I can't tell you,' he said, winking his right eye. It was about the twenty millionth wink I'd received since I'd married him the day before.
'Will I need to have a nap?'
'Well that depends,' he said, smiling.
I studied his face. His nose seemed a little off-centre, like he'd suffered a smack in the face playing football once upon a time.
'I can't stop looking at you either,' he said, grabbing my hand and planting a kiss on my neck. His kiss lingered cold on my skin. I had an urge to swat the spot with my hand.
'Will they be serving lunch and dinner on the plane, or just lunch?'
He shushed me, holding his finger to his lips. 'I'll never forget the moment I first saw you yesterday. You looked gorgeous. Like a girl out of a movie.'
YOU ARE READING
Silver
Fiksi RemajaSylvie, 16, sees colours, where other people only hear words or feel emotions. She knows she has to keep this a secret - as people disappear to institutions if they get sick in the mind. *** Sylvie likes to dress in Lolita outfits and dreams of beco...
