On Friday, we skipped school to go to the airport, because it was the day before our tournament. Emily, Mark, and I would all be on the same flight, because our parents booked the tickets together. I dressed in dark jeans and my red and white soccer warmup jacket.
When Emily, Mark, and I all got into Marks dad's car, We all sat in the back seat, not talking until about halfway through the long ride. Emily and I traded off, French braiding each other's hair. Mark played on his phone, occasionally texting the other boys on our team. Ashely and Ava wouldn't be on our flight, but would land at the same airport about 2 hours later than us.
When we got into the airport and checked in, we sat near the boarding entrance until 8:15, when we boarded the plane. It would be much warmer in Florida than it is now, but I dressed appropriately because the plane would be cold.
We wouldn't be flying commercial, because Emily, Mark, and my parents were coming, and we didn't want to be seperated. The three of us sat in a 3 person seat, so we could talk the whole way there. It was a nonstop flight, and it would take about 4 hours to get to Miami.
The plane took off, and everything went by in a blur. We talked non stop about nosense for meerily the whole plane ride there. The flight attenedent, my mom's friend Charil, brought us Sherly Temples' aboout halfway through the flight. We tried to raise our glasses, toasting to the soon tournament, but turbulance shook the unsteady plane, spilling our drinks across the table.
We all groaned, moving to different seats. Tiffinay was playing with Mark's younger sister in the seats two rows behind us, and His older brother, and Carson were talking about boy stuff.
About two hours into the flight, Mark and I were sitting next to each other, Me in the middle of Emily and him. He pulled my necklace out from under my jacket and held it. He admired the shiny piece of metal, that seemed so pointless, but made me beyond gratfied. He grabbed my hand, and set it on his leg.
"Ugh, get a room." Emily said, throwing her package of pretzels at us, getting up and moving to the seats in front of ours. Mark and I burst out in to hysterical laughter, and while i was laughing, I realized how much I liked him. Some people, they make you laugh, some might make you smile, but i don't think i've ever come across someone whole made my mood overall amazing. I wondered why I didn't pay attention to Mark, when we had played soccer before, or even during school. Sure, Paisley was usually protective over him, but that just made me want to be with him more.
If it's at all possibe, My face was made up of so many different emotions that if more than one person looked at my face, then another, they would read two different emotions. I don't think I could even compensate the admiration I had towards Mark.
"Taylor, wake up. We're here." Mark said, lightly tapping my cheek, that was lightly rested aginst his shoulder. I jerked my head up, but Mark held my arm. I smiled at him, and he returned it by lightly grinning at me, with a face that I couldnt erase from my memory.
When we stepped outside of the airport, I felt the humid, warm Florida air. The busy south beach surrounded us. Street lights flashed, and imperial gas filled the air. I though about how different this was from where i usually lived, in our small town off the coast of Long Island. The city was filled with busy tourists, and vendors lined the streets.
Mark, Emily, and I rode in a taxi with the rest of our family's to the hotel, where our whole team would be staying for the weekend, and into Monday if we made it into the championships. When we entered the huge hotel, it was surrounded by different soccer teams from around the country. I tightly clung onto Mark's arm, to find that he was shaking as much as I was.
We entered our seperate rooms, which were on the same floor, right in a line. Emily was to the right, and Mark to the left. We all went into Mark's room to play on the TV, which had an Xbox, and a blue-ray DVD player. Mason, Emily, Mark, Alex, and I, surrounded the small wooden coffe table. I assumed that things had cooled down betwen Alex and I, because he was back to playfully instuting me again. His head had healed, but not fully. So for now, he was on water boy duty and couldn't play in the tournament.
Friday night, I was perched on the railing of the balcony, scrolling through the absolute NOTHING, that was currently on my Instagram feed. The whole team hadn't arrived yet, which worried Coach to a certain extent. Mark hadn't spoken a word to me the whole day, and i was starting to get worried, but my mom always said, "Wait for the boy. If he wants you, he will text you first."
I stared out at the sunset, that looked as if it was a painting of millions of colors combined into something magical. I could smell the faint scent of salt water and sun screen, which i assumed lingered all around this area of Florida. There was sounds of latin music playing around the area, and flasing neon lights. I had to say, that I loved where i lived, but my small town wasn't going to get me anywhere in my soccer future.
I looked at my phone, wondering what Mark might be doing know. "Ugh, Taylor stop," I thought to my self, as I threw my phone into the lawn chair that was sat on the deck. I never used to depend on a boy to make my mood better. I was constantly battling with myself, over my dependancy on Mark, and how happy he made me. Even though he didn't text me back, he still made me happy whenever I was around him.
I just wondered if he felt the same way about me.
Suddenly, my phone went buzzing crazy with "Uptown Funk," which was currently Mark's ringtone. I flipped backwards over the bar, landing on my knee's.
"Note to self Taylor, don't do that again." I mentally corrected myself, and I sprinted to my phone.
"Hello." I said, taking a seat on the lawn chair.
"Hey." he said, leaving us in an akward silence.
"Why didn't you come into my life sooner?" he asked, a tone of sad question in his voice, as if it was my choice.
"Um, I honestly don't know." I said, not sure how to respond to a question like that.
"I mean, how did I end up with you?" he said, asking another question that I couldn't respond to.
I smiled, and my face grew hot. I squirmed in my chair, and mentally squealed.
"Taylor?" he asked, making sure I was still on the line.
"Still here. You just don't want to know what I was thinking." Shoot! why did i say that!
"Tell me." he said, in a somewhat demanding tone to his voice.
"No. Way." I said, confident that those three words would NEVER leave my mouth on the phone.
"Is it that you really, really, really like me?" He asked. Dang it, he was catching on way to fast.
"Something like that." I said, extremly nervous. He waited for a few moments, until he replyed the three words I'd hope he would never guess.
"Is it that you love me?" he asked, and I swear he was smiling on the other line.
"Maaayyybee..." I said, scared to hear his reply.
"Yes, yes, oh ya, yes, ya!!" He shouted into the phone, which made me laugh.
"Well, now that i am over my extreme excitement, I think its safe to say, that I blank you too." He said. It made me somewhat upset that he didn't actually use the word.
"I'll say it if you say it." I said, letting the words just spill from my mouth. I immediatly regreted it as soon as it came out.
"Deal." he said to my surprise.
"Okay. 1, 2-. I love you." He said, shortly followed by mine.
"That wasn't on three." I said, crossing my arms across my chest.
"I know." he said laughing.
I was so happy at this moment, that i though of how lucky i was, and how surreal it was to have found someone like Mark.
"I have to go." I said, hearing my mom call me into the room for dinner.
"One more time, This time on three, i promise." he said, in a pleading voice.
"Fine. One, Two, Three, I love you." we both said, and hung up the phone.
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Teen Fiction"I didn't want anything to do with love. My routine was strictly eat, sleep, soccer on repeat. That's how it had been for the past 10 years of my life. But that was until I looked at Mark Larsen in a different light and suddenly my black and white w...
