Roxanne

California.

I wasn’t angry with my parents for making the decision to send me to California. No, not at all. I was ticked off at whatever forces in this world that were getting a good laugh from my recently troubled life. The one good thing I had learned, however, was that my flight was to land in Oakland, California because my Aunt lived in Berkeley. Berkeley was around six or seven hours from Los Angeles and even farther away from Newport Beach. I was safe when it came to avoiding the stupid bastard.

However, I would once again be in the same state as Bryan, still only a day’s drive away from him. My aunt would be constantly close to him and even though my parents said that she had agreed in letting me choose whether I had wanted to go down south with her or not, I knew she would still ask—a lot. Adults always did; they were always so persistent. Especially my dad’s side of the family.

I would be catching a connecting flight to California Saturday night. I knew the plane stopped somewhere between, Chicago I believe, and I would have to switch flights. I was royally fucked when it came to that and I’ll openly admit it. I knew nothing when it came to flying. However, my dad, who was flying constantly for business sat and explained what I’d have to do when it came the time to switch flights.

I listened to him and then decided I’d just ask someone when I was there for help.

Sadie had come over Saturday to help me pack so that it’d be impossible to forget anything. “Does your aunt have neighbors?” She asked while looking through my bikinis.

I cocked an eyebrow as I looked through my jeans. “I imagine so. Most people do, don’t they?”

Sadie laughed, realizing how stupid her question was. “Sorry. I think I meant to ask if she had hot neighbors but I wasn’t focusing.” She paused and threw a few extra bikinis into one of my suitcases.

I snorted while going through my closet, picking out a few tank tops that I hadn’t worn in a while. “I wouldn’t know; I’ve never been there before.”

“That’s true,” Sadie agreed. “Well, I think you should scope out hot guys and form a bond with them. How long are you going for?” My best friend sighed and sat down on my bed at that question. “I can’t believe you’re going to be gone, Roxy.”

I sat down on my bed next to her and picked up one of my black pillows to play with. “I know,” I agreed. “I can’t, either. I don’t even know if I want to really go.” I sighed loudly and ran a hand through my hair. Throughout the past few days the new color had grown on me a lot. “I’ll only be gone for a little while. I mean, my parent’s said a few weeks, right? That’s not long.”

Sadie groaned and threw her arms around me. I laughed as we fell back onto the bed and held her equally close. I would miss Sadie a great deal and I think that that was the biggest reason that I didn’t want to go. Well, that and the fact that I’d be closer than I needed to be to a certain football player. “You’re calling me every day and if you don’t I’ll call you and yell at you.”

I laughed. “Well, my aunt works at home and in LA so I’m sure I’ll have plenty of time considering I refuse to go near Los Angeles at all.”

Sadie nodded. “Sure.” She sat up and sat indian-styled next to me on my bed. “Maybe you should go to LA, you could meet someone.”

I groaned at Sadie’s idea and got up off of my bed, throwing my pillow at her as I did so. I zipped up one of my bags and then proceeded to pack another. I was the kind of person that always brought too many things wherever we went. It was an unavoidable habit for me, unfortunately. I scowled as I threw a sweater into one of my bags. “I don’t want to meet anyone in California.”

Sadie cocked her head to the side. “Why not?”

I loved Sadie with all of my heart, but she could be naïve. “Because then I’ll fall for him and then have to go home. And I’ll be back to square one.” I leant up against my dressed and bit the thumb of my skin while Sadie sighed in aggravation at my stubbornness. “No,” I mumbled and pushed myself away from my dresser, “no, this is strictly guy free. That’s what I need the most.”

The car ride was quiet. My mother and father sat in the front while I sat in the back listening to the iPod I had gotten for my birthday only a little over a month ago. I was one of the people that found music essential to life and was constantly listening to it—Muse, to be more precise. They were an English band, but I had been head over heels in love with them since I could remember.

I had only been to JFK airport a few times before in my life because my parents were the driving type. My dad flew constantly for business so when we had the chance to go on vacation he liked to drive and get away from the airports. I liked driving, anyway, so it never bothered me. I actually wasn’t a big fan of flying which had to do with the fact that I was completely clueless when it came down to it. I knew for a fact already that I’d look like a fool in Chicago when I had to catch my second flight that would bring me to California once and for all and I was dreading it more than ever.

When we arrived at the airport my dad grabbed two of my bags while I carried one and my carryon. He led my mother and me into and around the large airport and brought us into an incredibly long line. I groaned and my father chuckled, drumming his fingers on my back. “Do you have everything you need?” He asked.

“As far as what?”

My dad shrugged. “I don’t know, hon. It’s a general question.”

I grinned up at my dad and shrugged. “I think so. I hope so. If not, I’m sure I can get it there.”

My dad nodded slowly and looked up at the screens above the windows. “Your flights on time,” he stated.

Perfect. Just dandy.

It took us a good while to get up to the desk and once we did, my father was sweet enough to pretty much push me aside for the time being and handled everything. I stared at him as he did so while my mother excused herself to the ladies room. My mom was one of those people that loathed public bathrooms yet constantly washed up in them. The irony was a bit annoying.

My dad came back from the desk with my luggage briefly pointed me in the right direction of where to get my bags checked before walking off to find my mother or something along the lines. My dad was a coffee addict and so I knew that by saying he was going to find my mother, he would somehow simultaneously end up with a cup of coffee. When my father had something on his mind he didn’t take the time to actually say his words; he just kind of mumbled, pointed a lot and walked off. It wasn’t one of my father’s best characteristics—especially in a case like such.

“Well, shit,” I muttered to myself. “This isn’t fun.”

I’m not exactly sure how I managed to do it, but I did somehow get all of my bags together at once to bring them over to the security. Naturally, I had stumbled quite a bit on my way there.

The line was long and completely unnecessary seeing as it was Saturday night. However, it was JFK airport so it shouldn’t have been much of a surprise to me. In front of me in the line was a man around my height. By saying that the man was around my height, I meant the man was short considering I was only around 5’5”. He had what looked to be a guitar case leaning up against the table and he was leaning his body up against the case with his fingers entwined with themselves at the top of it while he watched his bags go through the check. His hair was obviously dyed blonde because only half of his head was blonde while the rest of his hair, which was a much darker brown than the blonde, looked like his roots. The only reason my attention was focused on the bastard was because of the fact that when I had picked up my suitcases and placed them on the table, he had turned to look at me.

I wasn’t strong and I had accepted it a long time ago. I wasn’t weak but I most definitely wasn’t strong. It wasn’t exactly a big deal or out of the ordinary because I was a small person, which I had also accepted. The only times that my lack of strength and body altogether had been a problem had been in a situation such as this—when I had three suitcases that had to weigh almost as much as I did.

Because of my lack of strength, lifting all of my bags onto the counter was a bit of a lot of trouble for me and I found myself wishing that Bryan had been there to help me. I scowled loudly at my thoughts and lifted a hand to my forehead, mentally smacking myself because it wasn’t the thing to do in public. Once hearing my scowl, the man in front of me turned to look over his shoulder at me. He looked, cocked an eyebrow and then rolled his goddamn eyes at me before turning back to the security check.

I stared at the back of his excuse of blonde hair, gaping for a moment in disgust. For a moment I questioned if maybe he hadn’t been looking at me, considering we never made eye contact. I didn’t want to be irrational. I hesitated and then as nonchalantly as possible, I turned and looked over my shoulder. Behind me was a man reading what looked like to be a magazine as he waited. No, he was most definitely not giving that guy a dirty look. When I had figured that out I had wanted to tap the guy on the shoulder and politely ask him what the hell that was about, however I was unable to do so due to the fact that my father and mother had spotted me and came up to wait with me in the line. It didn’t stop me from glaring at the blond or wishing that he got stuck in a terrible seat on his plane, though.

“You’re going to be alright, won’t you?” My mother asked as we stood at the gate to my flight.

I nodded slowly and gasped as she wrapped her arms around me tightly, squeezing any of the air I had had left in me out. “Mom, mom I’ll be fine.” I was wheezing. Would I be alright? No, I’d probably get lost in Chicago and end up in a mess there, but I couldn’t breathe anymore. My father laughed and reached in, prying my mother from me. Once she realized what he was doing, she scowled and slapped his hand before latching onto me again. I groaned. “Mom, it’s only a flight. Dad takes them constantly.”

“I know,” she agreed, “but you’re my little girl and this is the first time you’re flying on your own.”

It was during the time that my mother had been squeezing the air and life out of me that I spotted him. The bastard from the security check. He was leaning up against the wall next to the gate that I was in front of on his cell phone. There was one bag, which I assumed to be his carryon, leaning up against the wall next to him while one of his arms was crossing his chest and the other was being used to hold his cell phone to his ear. However, the arm that had been across his chest moved and he lifted it to bury his hand in his head of blonde and brown hair. He looked angry and for a moment I believe he was yelling.

My father chuckled and for the second time he pried my mother and I apart. In return, I wrapped my arms around him to hug him goodbye. “If you have any trouble, you know to call us,” he murmured into my hair. I nodded and he grinned. “You’ll be fine, Roxanne. You’re an intelligent girl.”

I don’t mean to toot my own horn, but I was intelligent. I wasn’t brilliant, but my grades were good enough to get me into a lot of great schools. My parents were both intelligent with my dad being far in the business field and my mother being an attorney so naturally, their intelligence went to me. However I wasn’t into law or business, I was more of the creative type. And I was completely clueless when it came to flying. “Yeah,” I mumbled with false agreement, “of course. If I need anything in Chicago I’ll call you.”

“Call us when your flight lands on Oakland, though. I don’t care what time it is,” my mother commanded. I’d call her when I got to my aunt’s house and was settled in, instead. She wouldn’t know the difference.

In response, however, I nodded and looked towards the gate again. The blonde, let’s call him Blondie, was hanging up his cell phone and shoving it into his pocket. He continued to run a hand through his hair and reached to pick up his bag. I found myself a bit disgruntled at my sudden infatuation with this asshole because that’s exactly what he was—an asshole. The fact was that the look he had given me was unjust and it bothered the hell out of me. I didn’t take people disliking me—especially for completely unknown reasons other than their own judgment—well at all.

I stood with my parents for another good five or so minutes until my flight was called one last time. At that point I hugged them and bid goodbye. I don’t think my mother even actually said farewell to me because she was too busy telling me how much she loved me. My mother was emotional, it was a known fact.

I got into line to have my carryon bag checked one last time before I would board the plane after finally pulling away from my parents despite the continuous calling for my flight. Low and behold, Blondie was close. He shouldn’t have been, but he was. He was a good three or four people in front of me; however he was having a problem with the metal detector.

I fought back a smirk as my bag was checked once again. I was up close next to Blondie again, who was now apparently having a hard time considering he was complaining. Served him right. I watched from the corner of my eyes as they had him step back through the metal detector and then through it again. Instead of being able to go, like the rest of the people, the detector went off again. It was almost impossible to hold back a snort of deserved laughter as he swore under his breath, though loud enough that I was lucky enough to hear it. I managed, though.

Getting through the security check and metal detector was easy and painless for me, luckily. Blondie was finally getting his bag as I began to walk towards the plane. It was on that walk that I found myself calming myself down and telling myself that this would be painless and smooth. I’d get on the plane, search for my seat [considering I knew nothing of seating, either] and find it. I’d get settled in and just listen to my iPod for the flight. We’d land in Chicago in a few hours and I’d get off and then have someone point me in the right direction. Before I knew it, I’d be in California with my aunt and away from every single worry that my mind held while in Connecticut.

I stepped onto the plane, pulling my bag with me and then groaned once I was actually inside. I had no clue where the hell to go. The idea of finding my seat would be chaotic. I realize that I had just told myself I’d be able to find my seat easily and painlessly, but I guess at the time I wasn’t exactly realizing that were was a line of people that would be boarding behind me. I didn’t think things through a lot and it caused a lot of problems. I hesitated and then turned to the stewardess that stood at the front, right next to where I had stepped onto the plane and handed her my ticket, immediately asking for help. Instead of looking like a fool and go searching I realized I’d just ask. She smiled sweetly at me, in which I was thankful for and pointed me to the right seats of where I’d be sitting.

I don’t think I could have thanked her anymore than I did as I walked through the aisle to my seat. I groaned loudly to myself and sat down at the window, letting my bag sit on the seat next to me. I would be putting it up into the overhead compartment, but I wanted a moment to sit and clear my mind. I wanted to just be able to sit for a moment because I knew that from this moment on, despite everything I had just promised to myself five or so minutes ago, there would be at least a bit of chaos.

It was only a couple of minutes later when I stood up. I had grabbed my iPod and a few other things I thought I might need and once I saw no one else walking down the aisle, I opened up the compartment overhead and stuffed my bag into it, including my plane ticket. I didn’t feel like hanging onto it, so I had placed it on the top of my bag so if I had needed it for any chance. I sat back down in the window seat and opened up the flap to see outside to the runway. It was then that I heard an irritated groan.

I tore my eyes away from the runway and looked up to where the groan had come from. I nearly choked on my saliva when I saw exactly who it was. I slowly arched an eyebrow and found everything that I had been wanting to say to the man before me gone. He took that for granted and spoke to me. “You’re in my seat.”

“What?” I asked. I felt stupid as soon as the word left my mouth and suddenly became slightly angry with myself and him—not that I didn’t already dislike him.

“Excuse me,” he added. It wasn’t sincere in any way. “You’re in my seat.”

I hesitated and as I did so, Blondie just stood and stared at me. He wasn’t staring though. He was actually boring holes into my head, or at least that’s what it felt like. “I can’t be,” I finally mustered up. “The stewardess sent me here.”

Blondie snorted. “Because they’re so fucking credible. You’re in my seat.” To prove it, he thrust his ticket that he had been clutching quite tightly in my face. “I’d believe my goddamn ticket before one of them any day. Some of them don’t know their goddamn ass from their hand.”

I didn’t know what to say. How the hell do you respond to a comment like that? “Oh,” I finally muttered. “Oh. Well, uh, sorry.” I was mortified. I no longer wanted to find out what this guy’s problem with me was, but rather the get the hell out of his way. I actually didn’t believe he had a problem so much with me, but as he did in general. He seemed like he was one of those people that were just angry with the world and I had just happened to catch his attention for a second.

I got up from my seat—or his seat, rather—and squeezed past him into the aisle. I opened up the overhead compartment and went to take my luggage down when I saw Blondie out of the corner of my eyes running a hand down his tired face. “No,” he groaned. He then took his hand from his face and waved it carelessly at me. “No, I don’t give a shit. Just sit down. You’re not taking anyone’s seat. I was supposed to fly back with my friend but he decided to stay. Don’t worry about it.”

I swallowed nervously. “Are you sure?” I asked slowly.

I believe I was asking because I wasn’t sure. The first time I had seen this guy he had given me a dirty look and rolled his eyes at me. The next he had been arguing on his cell phone from the looks of it and now he was snapping at me. He seemed to be in a pretty god-awful mood [which whether it was permanent or not I didn’t know] to the point where I was almost afraid of him. Sitting next to him didn’t seem too damn appealing at this point, really.

Blondie waved his hand again at me. He then placed it on my shoulder and gently maneuvered me into the seats so that he could place his bag into the overhead compartment as well. “It’s fine, it’s fine. I don’t care.”

I looked around the plane briefly, trying to see if there was anywhere else I could go without looking like a complete fool. However, with my luck that person would come to claim their seat and I’d go through the same problem only with a different person. I sighed to myself and then sat down in the window seat I had previously been occupying. I bit down on the nail of my right my ring finger, a nervous habit I had. I didn’t bite the nail off, like most people did, just bit it.

Despite it all, I wondered if Blondie was, by any chance, heading to Oakland once we landed in Chicago.