Skylar is a 19 year old girl who lives in New York with her Uncle and Aunt, Skylar's parents died when she was very young. She has had far from a peaceful life, and as if anything couldn't get anything worse, Her Uncle marries off to an Italian Mai...
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My vision is slightly blurry when I finally wake.
I blink a few times.
The first thing I realize is that I'm most definitely not in my room back in New York. I'm sitting in a plane seat, a very comfy one at that.
Wait, Am I on the plane to Canada?
Oh my god I am!
I bolt up in my seat.
I'm met with the familiar blue eyes sitting across from me.
"Asher?" My voice comes out breathy
"Yes" His deep voice replies from in front of me.
"Where the hell am I?" I say wearily .
"You're on my plane" he says simply.
"Your plane??" I have a question.
"yes, my plane" he raises an eyebrow at me like im stupid.
"Where are we going" it's now that I'm realizing I'm on a flying piece of metal in the sky that could fall at any point.
I know the answer that's going to come out of his mouth. I just don't want to hear it.
"Canada"
Fuck.
"I'm on a plane," I say, still trying to fully process "on the way to Canada." I grip the arm rest.
I'm going to start fucking hyperventilating.
I'm trying to distract myself from the fact I'm actually on a plane by looking around.
It's obvious that we were on a private jet, a fancy one at that.
four seats in this room they are facing each other in twos, there's a table in the middle of us. I can also look out the window and I can't see anything except the sky.
It's one of those planes you only see in fancy movies
"How much longer?" I close my eyes and rest my head back against the seat.
"An hour," he says.
"Oh" I feel like throwing up.
"Is that a problem" He asks,
I don't reply though, not because I don't want to, but because I don't think I actually can.
"Skylar?" He says "I asked you a question" He states.
My eyes are still firmly closed and I'm holding onto the arm rest so tight I'm sure my knuckles have turned white.
"Oh sorry" I murmured and bit down on my bottom lip.
"Have you never actually been on a plane" He shoots another question at me and I wish he would just shut up because I'm already feeling sick and answering questions is the last thing I want to do.
