Fasten your seatbelt (Bajancanadian fanfic)

15

I'm sipping on my second Cosmo, feeling fairly cheerful. My issue is that I worry too damn much. If I just didn't care what people thought of me, I'd be so much more confident. I am a strong, nearly independant woman. I mean, I flew all the way to New York on my own. With Jenna. It's a wonder we're still alive.

NO. Stop being negative. We were always going to be still alive. It's not a wonder at all. Let's forget that we lost each other for a good 4-5 hours this morning. And got lost in the airport when we had to change at Amsterdam. And nearly missed our flight. Shh, brain. The fact is, we got lost, but we found our way back. We almost missed it, but we didn't. 

I'm not sure what Jenna is babbling on about, but I'm doing a convincing job of pretending to listen. I laugh when she laughs, say "God, I know!" occasionally and she is content.

I hear my phone buzz in my bag, and remember that I never checked all my messages. I know I got a bunch.

Oh my.

(16) Missed Calls
(12) New Messages
6 Notifications

I've never felt so popular. Look at all these people, caring about me and being interested in my life.

I open up the missed calls list.

Right. 14 from Mum; 2 from Jenna. Pants, mum! I still haven't texted her. She'll have contacted NYPD by now. I send her a quick text:

'Hi mum! Sorry I have been soooo busy!! All is gr8! Happy happy! Love you xxxxxxxxxxxxxx'

That should settle her. 

Now for the messages. I scroll through. Some from my friends at home, a couple from Mum, and three from Mitch.

'Going to Hunger Games comp - you interested?'
'Won it. I see you participated. Don't be a sore loser :P'

As if I would.

'Is that a mocktail? Or the real deal?'

Oh. He must have just sent that. I check the time. Shoot, he sent it an hour ago. He is literally sitting metres behind me, do I reply or just go over there?

'It's a cosmo. No umbrellas :( xxxx'

Oops. I didn't mean to send kisses. Even Preston and Jenna haven't been 'xxx'ing each other. 

'That's just awful.' I read it in his accent and snigger. Ahhhful. 

I go back to sipping my cocktail. I really don't know what his deal is. Why is he texting me? Does he actually want to be friends with me? Has he not noticed how socially inept I am?

"Here you go, madame." A cocktail pitcher arrives. With two little umbrellas, and a sparkler. 

I can't help but grin. It must be from Mitch. That's so sweet. 

Jenna is grinning an equally grinny grin. 

"From the gentleman in the red."

I turn around and survey the boys' clothing. 

Oh, right. It's from Preston. Well, now I feel silly.

---

I don't know why I'm sulking. Do I really want Mitch to send me a drink? Isn't that a little... corny? I'm not living in a romantic comedy, here. 

Jenna is loving it. She keeps looking at her phone and giggling. I've never seen her like this. She does realise he lives in Texas, right?

Eventually, Preston comes over. He asks her to go to the bar, and of course she obliges. Thanks, Jenna. Just leave me on my own at a table with a cocktail. 

Well, nothing to do but drink it. Quickly. 

I finish slurping, and pay the bill. (Thanks, again, Jenna, for leaving me with that.)

I'm not going to sit here like an oddball, so I get up and turn to leave.

Mitch's table is only half full now (see, half FULL, I really am being positive now).  I want to walk past undetected - I don't want to embarrass myself tonight. I call upon my inner spy and sneak by. Wow, that was easy. 

Am I dissappointed?

I sulk off, and my phone vibrates.

'Leaving so soon?' 

I immediately turn around, and stumble slightly. Mitch does that nonchalant 'hey I'm here, come over if you want' half-wave. That's how I interpret it, anyway. 

I obviously ponder for too long, and he feels sorry for the lost-looking deer-caught-in-headlights girl - he's got up from his seat and is walking over. To me. 

Don't panic. You've had alcoholic beverages, you can converse without stuttering.

"Hi. How's it going?"

"You didn't send me a cocktail." Oops. Wasn't expecting that to come out of my mouth. Where is my filter at?

He's laughing.

"Then let me get you one now."

"No! It was- it was supposed to be a ROMCOM." Why can I no longer make the connection between brain and mouth? What have the Cosmos done to my neurones?

"Right. Of course. I'm sorry. If you don't want a cosmo - how about a movie?"

A movie? What, in his room? Alone?

"Jerome and I were gonna go see what films there were. We have popcorn. Could be fun?" He raises his eyebrows questioningly. 

Of course Jerome is involved. What kind of idiot would let a crazy blonde girl who may yet turn stalker on them into their hotel room, without backup?

"Uhh, sure." I hiccup. "Sounds great."

 //

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