Until next time?

Chapter 1: Crisps and chicken sandwiches

My heart began racing the moment the car pulled into the airport parking lot. Now it was worse, my nerves were kicking in so badly. The smell of jet fuel and automobile exhaust combine to assault my senses, with images of exotic escapes and the kind of freedom that can only come from airports. On the other hand, I could see people listening to MP3s and playing video games. I could also hear the couple behind me chatting about the weather in Florida and the possibility of rain. The smell of fading perfume that my teacher was wearing wasn't hard to recognize either. The scent of perfumes were clashing with the smell of popcorn and chicken sandwiches from the boys. A very unusual mixture indeed.

This was the first time I am going abroad and I was forced into it. My parents think, I am an introvert and they are trying extremely hard to break my shell (as they call it); however if you look from my perspective I am a very social person. Well, if you count stalking people on social media with an anonymous profile. Don't get me wrong, I just don't have the confidence to confront with people. All my confidence swept off me on my 10th birthday, when Jake (my secret crush then) called me an ugly ogre in front of all my classmates. What else could you except from a 10 year old girl who was already insecure? And my parent's idea of breaking my shell, was sending me on the Paris trip and to my utter most disappointment all the boys and the "popular" girls were coming.

"Autumn, Autumn get up we're going to board!!" came this deafening sound in my ear, it was Quinta my best friend, since reception and the only person who can tolerate my peculiarity. Although, I love her dearly and would do anything for her, I just hate it when she screams in my ear.

"Gosh Quinta, I am not deaf you don't need to scream in my ear!"

The only reply I got was her mocking laugh, I used to get annoyed by it a lot, but I am numb to it now and it's just her way of showing friendliness. Soon, I got off the rough blue chair which I had been sitting on for 2 hours and started walking with Quinta to the boarding line. If this takes ages, I would...Argh

After a century, we finally got checked in, I walked through this temporary passage to the plane, as I kept getting closer, and closer my stomach was doing synchronized flips at same time as my heart. I have always had a fear of heights and knowing I was going to be flying 10ft above ground wasn't making it any easier. I hesitantly, took my first step into the plane and I felt the hard-solid underneath, that calmed my nerves slightly. The air-hostess greeted me with a warming smile and I greeted her back as well, but then only I released that smile didn't come from her heart and that it was just part of her job.

She probably understood from the way I looked the flight, that it was my first time on it. So, she kindly took my ticket and showed me where my seat was. I settled in as quickly as I could and hoping urgently that Quinta was sitting next me. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath and when I opened there was my worst nightmare. It was Jake, who was sitting next to ME!! Please just kill me now!! Those old memories began to flood me and the evil smirk on his face just made worse.

Suddenly, I felt the thrum of the engines at take-off and the vibration of the plane during the flight in my skin. It was too quick and it scared me badly. For the rest of the journey I tried to ignore Jake and soon I fell into a deep snooze.

I could feel something hard rubbing on my thigh, I speedily opened my eyes and became alert. It was Jake, his hand was riding up my thigh, I pushed it away with all my strength and looked at him with pure disgust.

"You are a pig" I screamed in his face and slapped him across his cheek and it left a huge red mark. I don't know why, but he got angry and shouted back "you haven't changed at all, you're that ugly, fat ogre from 5th grade, bitch."

There went by spare bit of self-confidence in a spiral of curls. I turned my whole face away from him and faced towards the window. Then I waited for the tear drops to glide down my face slowly. I don't know when I had fallen asleep, but the next time I opened my eyes we were in Paris.

I brushed-aside Jake completely and held my head high not giving him the satisfaction of seeing my sadness. Just when I was about to get off the plane, I tapped Jake on the shoulder and said "that mark on your face makes you look much better." I gave him one of my killer smirks, although I was still not healed from the pain of yesterday.

I walked off to find Quinta and to get away from Jake. I don't know from where, but there was still something inside me telling that this Paris trip was going to be a fanatical experience. It was hard for me to believe it, after  the incident on the plane.

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