clocks

1 - a new beginning

George

At first, Quinn tries to talk me out of it. She trails behind me around the house as I grab and pack whatever my hands touch upon first, telling me it's not fair to him, it's not fair after all these years that I just- show up.

Where am I even going to go, I wonder? Massachusetts? No, no, I'll go to Yale, that's where his letter came from, that's where I have the best chance of finding him.

"You can't do that to him," she says sounding panicked since I won't listen to her. She sits on the edge of my bed. "It's not fair, George. How would you feel if he did that to you?"

I turn to her, the heat in the air already adding to my rising levels of stress. "How would you feel if Alaina did it to you?" I ask, hoping she'll understand, hoping she'll see that it's not something I'm doing out of spite. "That even after that long, she still came and found you because she needed to know if she still cared, to see if you still cared?"

She quietens after that, but she doesn't move. I know I haven't offended her, or hurt her feelings because she's more than able to stand her own ground. I've grown to realize that after the years I've spent with her. She doesn't let me give her shit, she doesn't take shit from anyone, really. Eventually, she stands.

"I'll pack," she tells me, moving in the way of the closet. "You go and handle the jet and decide on what lie you're going to tell your dad, because it's going to have to be a good one if you want this to be able to work."

So I do. She packs my things, I go and call for the jet to be prepared under urgent notice and then I call my father and tell him Quinn and I are going for a holiday break all around Europe and that I'll be taking the next two weeks off work. He tells me to 'have fun.'

After three hours of packing, short discussions and slim conversation on the hour long car journey, Quinn and I finally reach the jets runway. Usually I'd be enduring these painful, long jet rides in suits, but now I relax in shorts, and a half zip jumper which I'd thrown on in the rush I'd been in at the house.

Quinn leans on the passengers side of the car as I lift my things out from the boot of the car, which security then come and take away from me. Quinn walks as far as to the jets steps with me. She stretches up to give me a hug, and presses a kiss to my cheek.

"Stay safe," she urges, smiling at me.

I'll never be able to get over how beautiful she is, she still looks as though she's sixteen. Despite the fact her hair is now shorter, and the wilder clothes she now prefers to wear. "Good luck," she adds, "though it's not like you're going to need it. I know you'll do the right thing, George."

I nod, because part of me is now starting to wonder if this is actually a good idea, and then I hug her again. She laughs, hugging me back. "Give him a hug for me, alright?" she nods, finally pulling away.

"I will," I tell her, finally stepping up the few short steps. "I'll be back soon!" I call behind me, when the steps are removed and the stewardesses move up to shut the door.

"Call when you get there!" she shouts, waving at me through the closing door.

I dart down the jet once the door shuts, waving at her through one of the windows instead, getting a proper view of her. She laughs when she sees me, and waves back.

Within the next three minutes, we're off. I know I called and made sure they knew we had to leave quickly, but my stomach still twists at the rush of it all. Quinn stands as close as she's allowed, waving and blowing kisses up at me until I must be out of view.

I'm familiar with my father's pilot, and the two stewardesses who have been working with him ever since I joined the company. They're sweet people, something you rarely find in the people my father employs.