Smiles Echo In My Memory

It’s been around nine months since Frank’s birthday. Everything since then had been normal, or as normal as everything could be. No one talked to Jake after what he did on Frank’s sixteenth, and as a result of it, he moved schools. In fact, he moved out of Brighton completely. No one knows where, and to be honest, no one really cares.
We all just finished high school, and were all about to move onto Varndean College in September. Frank didn’t really understand, because in America, you called University College, and College to England was still part of high school in America. But in the end, he kinda understood it, but didn’t see why we have this system.

But anyways.

It’s currently 10th July 1998, and I’m finally boarding a plane with Frank and Linda to New Jersey. We were meant to be going for the Christmas holidays, but there was some sort of complications with something or another, so we didn’t really get to go until now. It worked out better, anyways, because it was kinda like celebrating that we finished our GCSE’s and not going for just the hell of it.
Frank and I were still together, and nothing major had changed. Our parents still didn’t know about us, but I think Linda knew. I could tell by the look in her eyes, and I suppose it was pretty obvious.

I was sat in my seat, next to the window with Frank sitting next to me; Linda in front of us. The plane was about to take off, and I was to say the least, petrified. It was my first time flying, and I disliked heights, a lot. Frank was the same, but obviously flew before, so knew what to expect. I had a grip on his hand, the feeling of his black fingerless gloves against my skin somewhat irritating. I rubbed my other hand on my yellow skinny jeans, a habit I have when I’m nervous. I felt Frank squeeze my hand and I looked over, to see him smiling at me.

I was dressed in a pair of yellow skinnies, and a plain white low-cut top. I wore a Misfits’ hoodie over it, and a pair of white converse adorned my feet. Frank wore a Green Day t-shirt, along with a pair of navy skinnies and black converse. He had on black fingerless gloves, which made no sense because it was quite warm out. He was always a lost cause.

The plane started to shake, the captain’s voice taking over the speakers.
“Would passengers please fasten their seat belts; we are about to take off.”
I untangled my fingers from Frank’s, grabbing at my seat belt and fastening it. I watched Frank do the same before he gripped at my hand reassuringly.
“We’re finally going to Jersey, babe,” he whispered into my ear, quickly pecking at my cheek. I grinned, jiggling my leg up and down, another nervous habit. Frank chuckled, brushing his black fringe out of his eyes.
His hair had grown quite a lot, and he’d got it cut and the red dye on the sides had grown out. His hair looked the same as when I first met him, but without the red on the sides.
My hair had grown a lot longer too. It went down my back and still had layers cut into it, but it they were shorter, making my hair look even bigger than before. I’d also kept my natural black colour, and dyed electric blue streaks into it. I usually curled it, because I was so sick of my straight black hair.
The plane started to vibrate more vigorously, lifting up. My stomach churned, creating butterflies and my ears had a blocked, popping feeling. I squeezed my eyes shut, not used to the feeling, and held onto Frank’s hand tight. After about 30 seconds, the feeling slowly slipped away, and I lessened the grip on Frank’s hand. I opened up my eyes, turning my head to face Frank. He had a pained look on his face, and pulled his hand away from mine. He flexed his fingers, cracking his knuckles.
“Any fucking harder, Sazzy,” he mumbled, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. I grinned back, resting my head on the headrest of the seat. I was so fucking tired, we had to be at the airport at 4am, so me and Frank just stayed up all night packing. Linda had already packed and was organized, so she went to bed at around 10pm, waking up at 2 to get ready and drive us to the airport. In the end, she stopped halfway to Gatwick and made Frank drive. She claimed she had a splitting headache and couldn’t concentrate. I don’t blame her, she was always really busy working, taking care of the house, and making sure that dickhead doesn’t get out of prison. It’s no doubt stressful for her.
I heard faint snores from Linda, who was sitting in front of us, snapping me out of my thoughts. I giggled, Linda’s head lolling to the side onto the window. Frank chuckled, stroking at my knuckles. I looked over, smiling at him, and he pecked me on the lips. I sighed, shutting my eyes. I planned to get some sleep for the 7 and a half hour flight to New Jersey.