Just Hate Me and We'll End It Here

Alex

Okay. I can do this. I can totally do this. I can totally definitely do this.

Right?

“Alex?”

I squeal and jump, my heart racing as I panic, looking around.

It’s just Bailey… giving me a weird look. I offer a sheepish grin as I ruffle my hair. “Is… something wrong?” She asks cautiously. “Uh, you’ve been acting weird all day… are you feeling sick? Cause we don’t have to go, you know,” she offers quickly.

“No, no, I uh…” I give an uneasy laugh. “I’m just a little nervous, I guess.”

“You are?” She asks me, giving me a look.

Well, it is my parents… I shrug uneasily. “Well, yeah, I guess. I mean… it’s not like I planned to get married any time, you know. Not even get a girl knocked up.”

She opens her mouth to say something, but sighs and shakes her head. I watch her for a minute, recalling the last day or two. We’d pretty much avoided each other. I tried taking her out for dinner and breakfast a few times, but she stated she was too tired or too busy. “Well, think of it this way,” she distracts me as she starts getting in the car. I hurry around to my side and she continues. “We can end everything in September, so it’s not really like, you know… marriage,” she wrinkles herabsolutely adorable nose, “just… a ploy on the paparazzi or something.”

“Right…” I say slowly and unsurely.

If I told her my real thoughts- that I wish it were real and everything- she’d probably laugh at my face, slap me, and get up and leave. Then again, I wouldn’t be surprised if she did that any moment- she’s constantly keeping me on my toes.

And I’m loving it.

Aaaaaaand the car ride is eerily silent. Which sucks cause it’s a forty-minute drive to the airport. Finally I shove a New Found Glory CD in, one of their first, and that helps a bit. Bay’s just sitting against the window, her arms crossed and still obviously unhappy she’s doing this.

I’m actually shocked she agreed.

I hope mom likes her…

Why wouldn’t she?

I glance at her and think again. Her outfit isn’t exactly… promising, I suppose. And her make up tends to be either simple or dark, and today it’s pretty dark, along with her hair. But her hair is pretty, I think. Simple and down with a random clip or two in it.

I think she looks gorgeous.

“Finally,” I hear Bailey mutter when we reach the airport, and we climb out, beginning to grab our bags. “Hey,” she asks as I lift the trunk. “You’re just leaving your car here?”

“Dang,” I frown. “I hadn’t thought of that. Shoot- I’ll call Rian real fast. Thanks,” I add foolishly after a moment. She nods, not glancing my way as she starts grabbing the bags out. I dial Rian’s number and he picks up. “Hey, man. You think you could drive on over with someone else, pick up my car and take it home? I only trust you, and you’ve got the other key.”

He groans. “Fine. Whatever. Might take a while, but yeah.”

I grin. “Thanks. See you Monday.” And I hang up as Bailey’s lifting her bag and her backpack. “Why’d you bring so much?” I ask curiously, picking up my duffel.

“Missy,” she mumbles. “She thinks we’re changing outfits every day, we’ll be going swimming, clubbing, and to fancy dinners.”

“Odd,” I comment.

“It’s Missy,” she rolls her eyes and follows me as we enter the airport and pass through everything.

We’re a few minutes early, so I buy us some drinks at the Starbucks inside, along with a magazine or three. The drinks are being finished as they call us up, and within minutes we’re boarding.

“Mind if you take the window seat?” She mutters in my ear, following behind me on the plane.

I recall the fear of heights and nod. Finding my seat, I sit down first in the row of three seats, right next to the window. I turn and watch as Bailey puts her backpack between us and sits on the edge, looking around nervous-like, almost as if she’s ready to make a break for it.

“Hey, Bay?” She looks over, frowning slightly. “Stop worrying,” I tell her. “It’s safe. We’ll get there just fine.”

She swallows and gives a strained smile. “I know that,” she mumbles, clearly unconvinced. Sighing and shaking her head, Bailey leans back to give the image that she is relaxed. Although one hand is tightly holding onto the armchair, and the other one fiddling nervously, tapping on it and making noise.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Tappity-tappity-tappity-tappity.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Tappity-tappity-

It’s fast to drive me crazy. I groan and in a fast motion, I stand, move her backpack to my spot and sit down beside her, covering my hand on top of hers firmly onto the armchair. Her hand is cool beneath my warm one, and I can tell she’s trying not to shake from her nerves, holding onto the armchair so tightly.

She grits her teeth. “I’m fine, I don’t need a hand to hold.”

“Your eyes say differently,” I mutter and glance around as ‘the voice’ begins speaking to us, saying to put on seat belts, we’re ready to start off. Reluctantly I pull my hand back and buckle up- but quickly cover her hand again.

And the plane starts moving…

Bailey snatches her hand back, looking away stiffly. She grasps her hands together tightly and refuses to look at me. I frown a little, watching her for a few minutes. Ten minutes later or whenever, the voice says we’re smoothing soaring, I realize she’s not going to turn back.

Sighing, I give in and again switch seats with the backpack. This time I don’t buckle up again and look out the window. “Looks pretty,” I tell her. “All these clouds we’re about to go through, nice and puffy. You can still see the city from here, now. Tiny specks, but I can make them out pretty well…”