Just Hate Me and We'll End It Here
I Hate Cabs
Bailey
I. Will. Murder. Him.
I swallow hard and my hands again take hold of the arm chairs and I try to block out Alex’s voice as he casually keeps commenting how we’re so high and everything down there is so small and I’m going to MURDER him… once I find something destructible. Maybe a knife. Hmm…
Struggling to take deep breaths, I mentally reprimand myself for having such a weakness and close my eyes. Well, it is the first time I’ve ever flown… heck, the only moving vehicles I’ve been on, are cars and trains that I’ve hitchhiked on- meaning I never actually sat in one of their seats. Just… outside of them.
It’s official, I decide. I will never go on a plane again. Heck, I’ll walk back to L.A. again, cause there is no way I’m getting back on. I inwardly groan, leaning my head back. Why, why did I agree to this? When- or if- I get home, I’m strangling Missy. After I’ve murdered Alex.
“Excuse me ma’am, could I get you anything?” One of the attendants asks.
Biting my tongue I glance at her. “Have anything strong?”
“We’ll take some cokes,” Alex interrupts.
“What if I want a beer?” I frown at him.
“She’ll take a coke,” Alex says to the lady.
“I don’t want one,” I inform him rudely. “I want a Budweiser.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do,” I say in the same tone.
“It will make you sick, trust me,” he grits his teeth at me. “We’ll take cokes.”
The lady nervously hands them over. I cross my arms. “I’m not thirsty.” And I refuse to take it.
“She’ll have it later,” Alex groans, taking the drink and putting it in the extra cup holder.
He’s such a brat. Lard face. Jerk head. Idiot. Scumbag. Pea brain. Stupid git. I start rattling on insults in my head which ends up occupying me for about forty-minutes until I find myself repeating them.
A little while later, I find myself getting thirsty and I end up throwing longing looks at the coke. I must be hallucinating, cause soon it starts calling for me. I throw a glance at Alex, and he seems to be- okay, yeah, he’s snoring. Suspicious, I poke him and he just lets out a funny snore.
I nearly laugh, but recall my bad mood. I grab the coke bottle and grumbling to myself about stupid people, I slowly drink it and drain it. I stare at the small bottle for a while, tracing imaginary figures across it, but that gets boring, too.
Soon I start looking through my backpack for my ipod. Finally it appears- but it’s not mine. I stare at the black and purple striped Apple ipod… then at Alex. But when did he put it in? I shake my head and start looking for mine- but it’s nowhere to be found.
Fine.
With a sigh, I put in the earphones and click it on. I turn to the Artists and begin browsing. Surprisingly enough, we do share some of the same tastes… looking for something familiar, I flip to Blink 182’s latest album and closing my eyes, I shift comfortably in my seat and start listening to the music.
The airplane ride never really seems to get better, and when we finally arrive, my wrists hurt from all the pressure I’ve put in them. Which sounds so stupid, when you think about it. Alex kinda catches on and offers to carry my things, but I won’t let him.
“Well?” I sort of order when we reach the baggage carousel. “Where are your ‘rents?”
“Technically, they are yours, too,” he reminds me.
I glare at him. “Whatever. Where are they? Aren’t they picking us up? I hate cabs.”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m sure you do. And I don’t know. Can’t see them.”
“Well look harder,” I tell him in an obvious tone. He starts to say something in return, but I ditch him as I grab my bag. His duffel is right next to it, but I don’t care and now he’ll have to wait as it goes around again.
He grits his teeth, seeing what I’ve done. Grumbling, he punches numbers into his cell and starts walking around, not waiting around for it… or just not wanting to be around me.
Which I’m totally fine with.
I pick at my nails, bored out of my mind. I’m partially tempted to pull the ipod back out and listen to it some more… but I don’t want to admit that I actually listened to it or anything. When we’d started going down, I put them away and Alex was still asleep.
I’d been very tempted to ditch him right then and there… but if I appeared to his parents without him, that wouldn’t be good. Of course, now that it’s over, I realize I wouldn’t’ve had to show up to his parents…
Cursing under my breath, I scuff my shoe, very annoyed with myself.
“Alex, dear!”
Oh crap.
I. Will. Murder. Him.
I swallow hard and my hands again take hold of the arm chairs and I try to block out Alex’s voice as he casually keeps commenting how we’re so high and everything down there is so small and I’m going to MURDER him… once I find something destructible. Maybe a knife. Hmm…
Struggling to take deep breaths, I mentally reprimand myself for having such a weakness and close my eyes. Well, it is the first time I’ve ever flown… heck, the only moving vehicles I’ve been on, are cars and trains that I’ve hitchhiked on- meaning I never actually sat in one of their seats. Just… outside of them.
It’s official, I decide. I will never go on a plane again. Heck, I’ll walk back to L.A. again, cause there is no way I’m getting back on. I inwardly groan, leaning my head back. Why, why did I agree to this? When- or if- I get home, I’m strangling Missy. After I’ve murdered Alex.
“Excuse me ma’am, could I get you anything?” One of the attendants asks.
Biting my tongue I glance at her. “Have anything strong?”
“We’ll take some cokes,” Alex interrupts.
“What if I want a beer?” I frown at him.
“She’ll take a coke,” Alex says to the lady.
“I don’t want one,” I inform him rudely. “I want a Budweiser.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do,” I say in the same tone.
“It will make you sick, trust me,” he grits his teeth at me. “We’ll take cokes.”
The lady nervously hands them over. I cross my arms. “I’m not thirsty.” And I refuse to take it.
“She’ll have it later,” Alex groans, taking the drink and putting it in the extra cup holder.
He’s such a brat. Lard face. Jerk head. Idiot. Scumbag. Pea brain. Stupid git. I start rattling on insults in my head which ends up occupying me for about forty-minutes until I find myself repeating them.
A little while later, I find myself getting thirsty and I end up throwing longing looks at the coke. I must be hallucinating, cause soon it starts calling for me. I throw a glance at Alex, and he seems to be- okay, yeah, he’s snoring. Suspicious, I poke him and he just lets out a funny snore.
I nearly laugh, but recall my bad mood. I grab the coke bottle and grumbling to myself about stupid people, I slowly drink it and drain it. I stare at the small bottle for a while, tracing imaginary figures across it, but that gets boring, too.
Soon I start looking through my backpack for my ipod. Finally it appears- but it’s not mine. I stare at the black and purple striped Apple ipod… then at Alex. But when did he put it in? I shake my head and start looking for mine- but it’s nowhere to be found.
Fine.
With a sigh, I put in the earphones and click it on. I turn to the Artists and begin browsing. Surprisingly enough, we do share some of the same tastes… looking for something familiar, I flip to Blink 182’s latest album and closing my eyes, I shift comfortably in my seat and start listening to the music.
The airplane ride never really seems to get better, and when we finally arrive, my wrists hurt from all the pressure I’ve put in them. Which sounds so stupid, when you think about it. Alex kinda catches on and offers to carry my things, but I won’t let him.
“Well?” I sort of order when we reach the baggage carousel. “Where are your ‘rents?”
“Technically, they are yours, too,” he reminds me.
I glare at him. “Whatever. Where are they? Aren’t they picking us up? I hate cabs.”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m sure you do. And I don’t know. Can’t see them.”
“Well look harder,” I tell him in an obvious tone. He starts to say something in return, but I ditch him as I grab my bag. His duffel is right next to it, but I don’t care and now he’ll have to wait as it goes around again.
He grits his teeth, seeing what I’ve done. Grumbling, he punches numbers into his cell and starts walking around, not waiting around for it… or just not wanting to be around me.
Which I’m totally fine with.
I pick at my nails, bored out of my mind. I’m partially tempted to pull the ipod back out and listen to it some more… but I don’t want to admit that I actually listened to it or anything. When we’d started going down, I put them away and Alex was still asleep.
I’d been very tempted to ditch him right then and there… but if I appeared to his parents without him, that wouldn’t be good. Of course, now that it’s over, I realize I wouldn’t’ve had to show up to his parents…
Cursing under my breath, I scuff my shoe, very annoyed with myself.
“Alex, dear!”
Oh crap.
♠ ♠ ♠
cool with cards, oui?