Mitchell Rodriguez'P.O.V:
WTH!!!! To say that I'm so jet-lagged would be an understatement. Somebody help me, please. We’ve been on the plane for like 48 hours and there's no one I could talk to.
"It's because you won't talk to anyone!!!" my subconscious mind told me.
"Just shut up, okay. You’re not doing me any good."
"It's not like you're even doing any good from the start"
"Okay fine. Just leave me"
"Oh, so you're ignoring me now, aren’t you? That’s why you never shine; you keep leaving things at that!!!"
"I don't even want to shine even at the beginning of my arrival in this boring world."
"Well, you consider it boring because you're boring"
"Just shu---" My inner battle was interrupted when the flight stewardess announced our arrival.
"Passengers of this flight 2P396, we will be landing any minute from now. On behalf of the crew of the Asia Pacific Airlines, thank you for choosing us to be your companions. We are almost there!!!!....ladies and gentlemen, welcome to California, U.S.A.We hope that you'll be having a good time in this beautiful state of the country.Please wait for the plane to come at a full stop before picking up your baggage."
My!!!My freaking cheesewhiz!!!!....did she say Ca-California.......um, st----ttt---a-te...of......U. -----S....A?
"Of course it's in the U.S.A...I thought you were smart at this thing...” My subconscious mind resurfacing
"Oh please, it's not like I'm the only one here who's responsible for this stuttering. You’re also a part of me" I snarled...
"Hija....what's the problem" One of the coordinators, Ms. Anne Ferrer asked me while standing on the aisle...if you're asking why she called me hija(pronounced as i-ha)..it's because back in the Philippines ,which was once invaded by the Spaniards for a very long time that resulted to alteration and modification in the language, our words have this Spanish in them and well, hija is a synonym for son,male,female or daughter....
Ooops...did I just say that out loud? Um, what to do? What to say? The heating of my face worsened as I kept thinking on what to respond...
"Ahh...About that...Um...I meant the hand...yeah, my hand...I was talking to my hand...We were role playing...you know, to entertain ourselves..." I replied, staring away...and fumbling with my jacket
"Real smooth, Mitch...real smooth." my subconscious mind snapped, sarcasm dripping off her voice...
"Oh please it's not like you helped." I bit back
"----------to stay, so you okay with that, Hija?" Ms. Anne, a petite woman in her mid-forties said
Oh my gosh!!!What did she just say...uhh...it would be another total embarrassment if I ask her about it as I felt my cheeks getting warmer...?
"Just nod" my subconscious mind interrupted my inner turmoil.
I did as what "she" said and this made Ms. Anne happy for the next thing I saw, she was smiling. Like a big smile was sketched upon her face. So wide that I thought it would ache anytime soon.
"Good!!!" she chirped enthusiastically...
"Grab your suitcase, Hija...let's go"
It's only now that I know that the people were already disseminating. One by one, people are leaving off the plane...
"Okay"I responded politely then proceeded to take my suitcase in the compartment above my head and fixed my now crumpled white camis tucked in a black leather jacket my mom bought for me for this
Ms. Anne then took my hand and lead me outside the plane. The moment I stepped outside. My jaw fell, I mean literally...the view is too beautiful to take in....This is California???...Woh!!!...I never expected this to be this beautiful...
Ms. Anne must have seen my amazed face because she asked "Quite gorgeous, huh?" ...Words are jumbled up in my head right now so I decided to nod. She tugged my hand and soon we were leaving outside the huge airport...
And because of my unexpected feeling of awe, it’s only now that I realized that the other 14 students who were also chosen to be exchanged and the rest of the coordinators were gone too...Ms. Anne must have sensed my discomfort because she answered my unspoken question..
"The rest of the coordinators took care of the 15 students. You’ve noticed that we're also 15 right? Every one of us is assigned to each one of you...we're here to guide you."
Understanding seeped through my mind and for the 1st time since I arrived here, I felt like Ms. Anne would be my second parent...
"Thanks" I sincerely told her, making sure to look her in the eyes.
This is honestly not as bad as I thought. With Ms. Anne here, I would get out of here, alive and breathing.
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Don't forget to VoMment guys!!!!Please help me out with this!!!! I really want to finish this story with a victorious grin on my face!!!!I mean I want to be contented by the time the story is done and I need your help on this, I'll love to hear from you!!!!!............................:D
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"My AFS Love" (Under great construction)
Teen FictionAFS....A-A, F- Fruitful , S- Sentiment..Does AFS mean".A fruitful sentiment"???...just kidding...AFS is a school program in which you're give the chance to experience a different culture through providing you the opportunity to go to a foreign count...
