Island girl

Intro

“CHLOE GET UP!”

“Is the world ending?”

“Uh, no?”

“Is Dougie Poynter at the foot of my bed?”

“No.”

“Is Ian Somerhalder at our front door?”

“No.”

“Then why the hell should I get up?”

“BECAUSE WE’RE GOING TO THAILAND!!!”

How could I have forgotten?! This year our grandparents are taking our whole family to Thailand for Christmas! Immediately I sprang out of bed and threw on some leggings and a baggy top that would be comfy for the long 12 hours in the plane, but I’m not complaining because we get tv’s!!! I shoved my phone, purse, I-pod into my bag and grabbed some spare clothes just in case my brother was sick on me like he was last time (I didn’t speak to him for a whole week before I begrudgingly forgave him). Within a few minutes I was ready to go as we are going to eat breakfast at the airport to save time and as an extra bonus they do nice sausage sandwiches!

For the whole car journey I spaced out letting my mind wander to the vivid blues of the sky with the lush green trees and the exotic wildlife.

Once we got out of the car at the airports car park I felt the familiar wave of nerves that I always get when I fly but I pushed them aside and went to go and help my dad with the ridiculous amount of luggage my mum made us bring, along with a ‘survival pack’ for us all which consisted of a first aid kit, a bible (we’re not even religious so don’t ask), a torch and a rope. I just want to make it clear that I am not it any way afraid of flying it is just my mum who as wonderful as she is a severe pteromerhanophobiac. She has even had therapy but no, according to her we are all going to die on a plane. How supportive and encouraging.

After eating our sausage sandwiches and buying some skittles for the plane journey at one of the little shops at the airport we made our way to the boarding gate.  I walked through the tube leading to the plane and spotted a hot guy waiting infront of me. Damn. Why did I decide to go for the comfy option? Of course of all the days I’m wearing no makeup, my hair is in a scraggy bun and my clothes look like a hobo's pyjamas I would meet a Greek God sent down from the heavens! I discreetly examined him: Gorgeous eyes- check, my age-ish-check,beautiful smile- check, definite six pack-check (either that or organised fat rolls), tanned muscular arms- check, staring right at me- check. Wait what? However before I could explode from embarrassment his father (I’m guessing) grabbed his arm and guided him to his seat on the plane. Phew! I just hope I’m a safe distance away from him!

“Chloe you’re sitting on the end, Harvey you’re next to your sister, no buts, just do it”

“Yes dad.” We chorused before trudging over to our seats shoving and pulling each other all the way.

---8 hours later----

I’m going to kill him. I’m going to cut off his tiny tic-tac balls and shove them down his throat if I hear him ruining yet another ACDC song. For the past 4 or so hours my brother has been belting out amazing songs for the whole plane to hear in the most horrible off key tone known to mankind. It was almost as bad as my singing, almost.

“IM ON A HIGHHHHWAAAAYYYY TO HELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL” Right that’s it.

“Harvey.” I said, looking into his beady eyes. “You sir have single handedly started a singing war with the world’s worst singer.”

“Chloe.” He replied, looking into my entrancing eyes. “You don’t have the balls to do it especially when mister Greek God is on the same plane.”