Well That Just Sucks.

Chapter Two
Landing
I nearly fall over from exhaustion after getting off that stupid plane.
I didn't get any sleep on the whole trip because no one could shut up for two minutes. Whoever said teenage boys gossip less than girls was either lying or had a really good pair of noise canceling headphones.
“You’ll never guess who I did, or what I saw, blah, blah blah.”

I yawn as I grab my carry on and get my suitcase. A crowd is gathered by baggage claim. Apparently someone has forgotten to take everyone’s shit off the plane, causing a huge delay. What another way to brighten up my already chipper morning!

After standing like an idiot by the baggage carousel for almost a half an hour, I go outside to wait for my ride. As soon as the steamy Cali air hits me, I run back inside to the air conditioning. It’s hot as hell out there!

A limo driver is dancing around with a sign outside. With my name on it. No way.

I hand him my bags and dive in the back. Right into the lap of someone…

“Oh My God, I am so-oh, Shit," I mutter under my breath. The creep and the jerky blonde from the plane stare down at me on their laps. Dammit.

“Like the view?” the blonde smirked.

Ha! As if. Maybe I was... A little. But I’m not telling him that
The creepy boy grunted and pushed me off his and the obnoxious boy’s laps into my seat. I made a personal note to thank him later. You know, if he wasn’t so damn creepy, I would totally date him. Except that he’d probably kill me in my sleep.

The driver gets in and we’re off.

I stick in my headphones (Skull Candy all the way baby!) and listen to my new favorite song, "Down with the Sickness” by Disturbed.

Then, out of nowhere, the blonde asshole suddenly yanks my headphones out. What the hell? We’d better either have arrived or he’d better be in the process of bleeding to death and want to apologize to me before he dies. I glare. No such luck.

“Art thou mad!? You never mess with mama’s music! If I have to pen a can of whoop ass on your behind-”I start, ready to strangle the smirk off his stupid face.

“Keep that gay screamo music down or off, bitch. What a sad excuse for music. It explains your lack of basic-” he says.

Okay, now he’s pissed me off. “Now just hold the hell on. I don’t know who shoved your head up your ass, but I do what I want, when I want. I’m not going to let you or any other stuffed up, preppy prick decide anything for me. Got it?”

Blondie pulls my hands from around his neck, not at all threatened.

“Why are you even here? Are you like a whore or something? You hiding something in your pants?” he asks.

I flip him off. “You probably be more excited if I was, not that you’ll ever find out.”