‹ Prequel: Alpha
Sequel: Aspen County ›
Streak of Black
Chapter 24
When I come to, it's dark out, and Lovett is sleeping in the seat beside me. I blink to try to come to terms with what I just watched. So my cousins kicked my Pack out, and Cannan is dead. I look at my brother. Slowly, a smile creeps across my face. He doesn't need to know anything. This is all strictly between Monique and me. Besides, it's really in his best interest that he stays in the dark. I rationalize that he wouldn't even want to know about what I just watched happen. I'm really just protecting him for once instead of it being the other way around.
I get up and walk through the airport to the bathroom. In the bathroom, I clean my face to really wake myself up. I run some water through my hair, untangling at least a little of it. As I do, I notice a long streak of black on the left side of my head, going from my scalp to the tip. It's not much, but it's extremely noticeable against the bright auburn that my hair is naturally.
I kind of like it.
After admiring and stroking the streak a bit longer, I leave the bathroom and return to the terminal. I make sure to sit on Lovett's right side so that he'll notice. I want to know what he thinks, as any little sister surely would of their big brother. Sure enough…
"Whoa!" he exclaims loudly, alerting the sleepy guard by the door and the exhausted airport patrons milling around the terminal. Lowering his voice, he asks, "What the hell happened to your hair?"
"You don't like it?" I ask innocently, feigning pain at his alarmed tone of voice.
His eyes flare angrily. "Stop playing games, Louve. What did you do to your damn hair?"
"I don't know," I reply examining my nails as if he's not freaking out next to me. "I woke up and it was like this. I think I'll keep it."
He looks at me like I'm a stranger, at a loss for words. I'm not his baby sister now, and I may not be ever again. And that is just fine for me. But not for him. "What's happening to you? Didn't you say that that voice…thing has black hair when she…visits your head? Why would you want to look more like her?"
"I'm just growing up, Lovett. What, you expected me to stay all sweet and innocent forever? Don't make me laugh." I roll my eyes and sink into the seat, getting comfy and twirling the lock of hair around my finger.
Lovett huffs at me and turns away. I know that he knows that something is up with me other than usual teenage rebellion—I mean, I'm not a usual teenager—but he's too annoyed and stressed out to fuss over me too much right now, especially when I'm being difficult. That same annoying little voice from earlier warns me that I should care what my brother thinks of me, but I just don't. The dominant part of me is smug that I'm superior to my brother, that I know stuff that he doesn't. He's jealous of me. He knows I'm better than he is. And it kills him.
Lovett and I ignore each other for the rest of the night.
* * * * *
Finally, it's the morning. We have a pretty early flight—8 a.m. to be exact. At about 7:15—we had enough cash to spring for first class—we're finally loaded onto the plane. I get the window seat, and am able to look through it directly back into the bay window of the airport. I watch it become crowded with annoyed, late coach fliers who are all tired and just want to get on the plane. Some people for the next flight are already entering the terminal, wanting to be on the plane early as early as possible to get as much space as they want in the overhead compartments.
I sit back, content to watch the simpler lives of those who don't know what real problems are. Those fools. I'm almost jealous of them. But I'm above them all—they don't matter—they’re all so simple-minded. I smile regally through the window and turn around, looking at a very bitter Lovett. My ears perk as the captain comes on and tells us to make sure our seat belts are buckled because we're taking off soon. I settle back and close my eyes.
I lean back in the seat for a few minutes, getting comfy. Feeling slightly nostalgic, I look back one last time at the airport. I gaze in the window for a few minutes before smiling and listening as the plane begins to take off down the runaway.
And just like that, I'm leaving my home, my Pack, and my entire life behind in France for the second time in my life.
I get up and walk through the airport to the bathroom. In the bathroom, I clean my face to really wake myself up. I run some water through my hair, untangling at least a little of it. As I do, I notice a long streak of black on the left side of my head, going from my scalp to the tip. It's not much, but it's extremely noticeable against the bright auburn that my hair is naturally.
I kind of like it.
After admiring and stroking the streak a bit longer, I leave the bathroom and return to the terminal. I make sure to sit on Lovett's right side so that he'll notice. I want to know what he thinks, as any little sister surely would of their big brother. Sure enough…
"Whoa!" he exclaims loudly, alerting the sleepy guard by the door and the exhausted airport patrons milling around the terminal. Lowering his voice, he asks, "What the hell happened to your hair?"
"You don't like it?" I ask innocently, feigning pain at his alarmed tone of voice.
His eyes flare angrily. "Stop playing games, Louve. What did you do to your damn hair?"
"I don't know," I reply examining my nails as if he's not freaking out next to me. "I woke up and it was like this. I think I'll keep it."
He looks at me like I'm a stranger, at a loss for words. I'm not his baby sister now, and I may not be ever again. And that is just fine for me. But not for him. "What's happening to you? Didn't you say that that voice…thing has black hair when she…visits your head? Why would you want to look more like her?"
"I'm just growing up, Lovett. What, you expected me to stay all sweet and innocent forever? Don't make me laugh." I roll my eyes and sink into the seat, getting comfy and twirling the lock of hair around my finger.
Lovett huffs at me and turns away. I know that he knows that something is up with me other than usual teenage rebellion—I mean, I'm not a usual teenager—but he's too annoyed and stressed out to fuss over me too much right now, especially when I'm being difficult. That same annoying little voice from earlier warns me that I should care what my brother thinks of me, but I just don't. The dominant part of me is smug that I'm superior to my brother, that I know stuff that he doesn't. He's jealous of me. He knows I'm better than he is. And it kills him.
Lovett and I ignore each other for the rest of the night.
* * * * *
Finally, it's the morning. We have a pretty early flight—8 a.m. to be exact. At about 7:15—we had enough cash to spring for first class—we're finally loaded onto the plane. I get the window seat, and am able to look through it directly back into the bay window of the airport. I watch it become crowded with annoyed, late coach fliers who are all tired and just want to get on the plane. Some people for the next flight are already entering the terminal, wanting to be on the plane early as early as possible to get as much space as they want in the overhead compartments.
I sit back, content to watch the simpler lives of those who don't know what real problems are. Those fools. I'm almost jealous of them. But I'm above them all—they don't matter—they’re all so simple-minded. I smile regally through the window and turn around, looking at a very bitter Lovett. My ears perk as the captain comes on and tells us to make sure our seat belts are buckled because we're taking off soon. I settle back and close my eyes.
I lean back in the seat for a few minutes, getting comfy. Feeling slightly nostalgic, I look back one last time at the airport. I gaze in the window for a few minutes before smiling and listening as the plane begins to take off down the runaway.
And just like that, I'm leaving my home, my Pack, and my entire life behind in France for the second time in my life.