1.
Emma grasped the cabs door handle while it veered through traffic, narrowly avoiding the bus stopped to unload passengers. Her knuckles ached and metallic tasting blood from biting the inside of her cheek filled her mouth. "The man is high...or has a death wish" she muttered. She glared at the back of his greasy head and chanted a silent prayer.
"Relax Em...sheesh," groaned Trish who sat beside her in the back seat, not the least bit bothered by the swerving car and the maniacal grin on the drivers face.
"We are going to die," mouthed Emma, her eyes wide with fear. Trish laughed loudly earning an inquisitive glare from the cabbie in the rear view mirror. Emma rechecked her seat belt, pulled it tighter, and said a silent prayer. If the flight to St. Kitts did not kill her,the cab ride to the airport likely would.
What should have taken 30 minutes to arrive at Lester B. Pearson airport only took 15 minutes thanks to the reckless driver. The car screeched to a halt at the curb of the departures area, Emma swung the door open and stumbled onto the sidewalk, her knees weak and pulse racing. If she were a smoker, it would have been a perfect time to light a cigarette and take a much-needed break to calm her shattered nerves.
The driver pulled their suitcases out of the trunk and Trish paid him while Emma tried to steady her nerves. The cabbie nodded to the women then hopped back in his car and sped off once again.
Trish grabbed their bags and dragged them to where Emma was shakily trying to catch her breat and gave her friend a sympathetic smile, Emma felt like an idiot. She was embarrassed that she stressed out over a cab ride, but thrill seeking was not her thing.
"Better now Em?"
"Um...yeah, sure" she shook her head.
"I know you are nervous about flying, but there really is no need to be. It is perfectly safe and we will land in St. Kitts in one piece and have the times of our lives," Trish used her motherly tone with Emma, as it always seemed to calm her. She placed her arm over her best friends shoulder and gave a light hug.
Emma knew her fear was irrational, but it was her first time stepping foot on a plane, to ever leave Canada for that matter, and she was anxious and out of her element.
The women took their suitcases and bags strolling into the airport that was bustling with eager travellers. They found the check in desk and started the long wait. Emma regarded the people waiting in line, most were couples, a few looked like business men dressed in their business casual attire. There were groups of people who appeared to be friends and the occasional loner standing in line.
Emma loved to people watch. She liked to look over their faces, read their expressions, and imagine what it was like to be that person. What was that person's life like? Her gaze landed on a man whose back was to her, but immediately she found him appealing. He was tall, at least a foot taller than her compact 5 foot 3 frame. He had broad shoulders that tapered to a lean waist. His hair was a short dark brown, yet maintained some length on the top, and his hair had a luxurious wave too it, which made it, look a little disheveled. He was dressed in a pair of worn jeans that fit him perfectly. They fit so well that she couldn't help but notice his behind, how firm and well defined it looked. The dark gray t-shirt he wore clung tightly, not Jersey Shore tight, but enough that she could detect the muscles of his shoulders and back. Emma wondered if the man was athletic, perhaps a swimmer or a runner. He was lean and muscled, someone who took care of his physique. From her vantage point, he was stunning. Emma wondered what his face would look like, in her experience no man was perfect looking. He could very well be a butter face. Perhaps he had a unibrow or greasy skin, maybe a third eye.
