The White House

The White House- Chapter 9

Glancing out of the blackened windows, I stared at all the industrial warehouses trickling past in a slow blur. We were nearly at the airport, and the traffic was beginning to build up, horns blaring ferociously like a Mexican wave as drivers seemed to feel the frustration of the slow moving vehicles.

I could hear the engines of the planes that were flying above us and I felt a wave of excitement hit me. I was doing this. I was going to college at Stanford. Frickin Stanford. Not only that, but I was going with Kasper, and going with Kasper meant the best of everything. No more baked beans, no more tatty duvets. I was going to be with the Presidents son for a year.

When we grew ever closer to the entrance of the airport the sound of Kasper’s Nokia ringtone pierced through the silence like an arrow. Kasper rummaged in his pocket bringing out his black brick cell phone that must have cost no more that ten bucks and answered.

“You’re driving,” I whispered, chiding him for talking on the phone whilst behind the wheel. He may not take it seriously, but the traffic was heavy and one swerve would be all it took to collide with the neighboring car.

Giving me an infuriated grunt he pulled over to the side, leaving the engine idling.

“What?” He muttered down the cell phone, confusion flittered across his brow as he listened to the words being spoken to him, making me lean forward in my seat. What was going on? Who was it?

“Are you sure?” He continued, breathing heavily on the brick. “Yes, okay. If that is what it takes I will do it.”

“What’s going on?” I mouthed to him, but a curt shake of the head silenced the curiosity that was overwhelming me.

“No, I think that it is for the best. I don’t want her involved… yes, bye.” He clicked the red end button on the black brick cell phone and slipped it back in his pocket.

“Who was that?” I asked.

“Just and old friend who was having girlfriend trouble,” he replied, his eyes flickering to mine for a second before he pulled out onto the crowded highway remerging with the traffic.

“Why would a friend not want to get her involved?”

“Just leave it Patience. He was having a spot of trouble and didn’t want her to find out about it.”

It was the snappish tone of his voice and snide curl of his mouth that made me shake my head back to the front and a foul pout to cross my lips. What was his problem? One minute he is nice and fun, the next he is back to the evil Kasper that I grew up with. He was once again giving me whiplash.

“Fine,” I grumbled, rolling my head around in a circle before stopping so that it now faced the window, my breath steaming up the glass so that it was no longer transparent. The day had been hot, but due to the clear sky all the heat had quickly escaped, and now a cool chill was sweeping its way inside the car making Kasper reach for the dial that turned up the heat. The fans buzzed quietly, shooting out hot hair that made my nose dampen with the humidity. I loved the heat though, so I snuggled back into the chair and waited for the traffic to move.

Kasper didn’t say anything for the rest of the journey; he merely tapped one finger like he did in the café along to an imaginary beat, his mind obviously heavily present elsewhere.

The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t comfortable either. I was in too much of a mood with him to bother starting a conversation and he seemed too preoccupied to obtain the small talk anyway.

When the overhanging sign that indicated the turn off for the airport passed I sighed with almost relief. I wasn’t sure what had just happened, so I didn’t know where I stood. I know he only snapped at me, but I am very aware of the fact that I don’t take kindly to being snapped at. Call me stubborn, over-reactive or even silly, whatever it is I can’t seem to be able to get rid of it.