Sierra and Aiden: Anthology

The Airport

No matter how much I try, I can’t seem to keep my legs from shaking. 

My plane ticket is alredy wet from all the sweat in my hands, and my passport is still suffering between my fingers, even though I’m sure I won’t need it again.

I’m going away.

On a plane.

Alone.

To the other side of the world.

Which is exciting and scary and amazing and horrible all at the same time.

I knew I was going to suffer the second I got the email, congratulating me for being one of the thirty lucky ones selected to study a masters degree abroad, on any subject you wanted.

My parents were overjoyed by the news, and spent weeks telling everyone their little girl was going to Spain. Then it dawned on them that I’ll be gone two years, and smiles turned to tears. Eventually I just stopped thinking about it altogether until two days before I had to go.

I packed up my clothes and other things, and shipped them a week early to my new appartment, so I’m only carrying a small backpack now.

I’m not used to being alone. I like being alone, I’m just not comfortable doing new things on my own. And now I’m on my own. For two years.

I need a distraction. I can’t keep shaking and sweating and worrying here. I decide I should buy something. Maybe a coffee.

No. Not a coffee. I need to relax, not to get even more anxious. Chamomille tea. Yes.

I walk to the nearest coffee place, trying not to bump into anyone. It’s a high day at the airport, so there’s a lot of people walking around, trying to get to their doors on time.

There’s a line at the coffee shop, but I don’t mind waiting. It gives me time to read all the specials in case I get hungry when I get to the front. They have a high variety of teas, so I decide I’ll order Orange tea instead.

I finally get to the front, order my tea and wait for it for a few minutes. It’s hot between my hands, so I adjust my sweater between my hands and the cup.

I’m looking down at my hands, so I don’t see the man until its too late and we crash. My tea spills, burning my hands and surely him as well, given his suit is wet, but he seems not to care. He just growls at me and keeps walking. I lean down to pick up the empty cup, when someone knocks me over and I hear my left foot crack before I fall.

Damn. I just recovered from an injury and it’s still healing. I breathe and brace myself for the pain that will come when I finally stand up.

“Let me help you.” Someone says, and I feel my face burn.

He reaches out to me and pulls me up. As I try not to let all my weight fall on him, I’m caught off guard at how strong he is. He doesn’t look like a very muscular guy.

“Are you okay?” he asks and I look at him for the first time.

His eyes are deep green and kind. He isn’t smiling, but I assume its a great smile. He’s wearing a blue hoodie and jeans, and has a backpack on.

“I think so- AUCH” I wince as I try to  put some weight on my left foot. His grip tightens.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you” he says, giving me a charming smile, which honestly just pisses me off.

“My hero” I say sarcastically.

“At your service.” He winks at me, and something in my stomach twists.