Possessive Rich Bully

Chapter 7 (Pt. 1)

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Astoria

My phone dinged for the nth time. No wonder it was flooded with notifications. I was officially running late to board the flight for washington. I woke up in the morning to find my alarm hadn't rang on time and my grandma pounding on my bedroom door, telling me to get my ass up and running.

Shit.

On top of it all, I had missed the school provided bus that was the student accommodation to the airport. That was the time when I started receiving frantic text messages from Peter. I had assured him that I'll reach on time.

Guess, I was wrong. The check-in took time and I had officially missed the final boarding call to the flight. I fished my phone out and checked the messages.

They're doing the final boarding call. Where r u??
I had a talk with the authorities and they're willing to stall for ten minutes. Get here quick.
Where r u?
I am not going if you're not going.
Ms. Pissed off is threatening to deduct my marks if I act accommodative.
They're making me go.
Astoria...
Switching off the phone. This was not how it was supposed to go.

Deflated and annoyed with myself, I picked on my suitcase and dropped to the airport bench. I took off the bucket hat off my head, letting my damp brown hair fall down my back.

If I had done my packing the night before, I would've still made it to flight on time. My eyes welled up and there was nothing I could do other than ponder on tge things I could've, probably should've done.

One thing. I wanted this one thing for myself and my stupid self found a way to thwart my own plans. I took off my spectacles and dried my watering eyes.

This is the boarding call for Ms. Astoria Emerson for flight       to Washington, DC. Please report to gate nine immediately. The doors to the aircraft are scheduled to close in fifteen minutes. I repeat, Ms. Astoria Emerson, please proceed to gate nine immediately.

My head snapped up at the mention of my name. What the... Was it possible that the boarding call was directed for a different Astoria, but what are the chances that she's travelling to Washington? I don't waste my time contemplating and strode to gate nine.

My eyes scanned for gate nine, when I couldn't find it, I asked one of the security personnel to guide me to the direction of gate nine. I rode in the buggy all the way to gate nine.

Once dropped off, I rushed to the gate only to come to a screeching halt. I came face to face with the person I was hellbent on avoiding. Axel Trent.

Tall, dark and handsome— those words were an understatement to describe him. He was flawless. He stood at 6'2, the thick mass of luscious hair with copper hues that were styled in such a way that made him look more like a sophisticated aristocrat than a high school student, striking waves of ocean in his eyes, his perfectly sculpted nose and lips, and a jawline which was more sharp than a knife. On top of it, an athletic body and a personality that reeked of arrogance, he was a near perfect male.