Autumn Leaves

Chapter 10

Dedicated to @Missawesomedudette for just generally being awesome!

Copyright (c) 2013. All rights reserves by the author.

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    "Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.”

              ― Leonardo da Vinci

 After that, I couldn't face my classmates. So, being the coward that I am, I just left. Simple as that. It wasn't too strange a time, just before the Christmas period, so they would (hopefully) assume that I had gone on holiday early or something.

       My dad got the job, my mum arranged a small goodbye gathering for our circle of friends, and Harry said bye to his friends and promised to send them emails when he learned how to use the Internet. I, however, only bid my teachers goodbye and just told them I was moving to another school (asking for confidentiality, of course), and thanking (most) of them for their help with my GCSEs.

       And a few days later, we had finished our packing, sold some of our furniture, and ready to move to America.

       When we got to the airport, we booked and printed our tickets and my dad was looking over them when he drew in a sharp breath.

       "What's wrong, Hugo?" my mum asked worriedly, "have they booked us for the wrong place?"

       My dad shook his head and started laughing. "No, no way. The other end of the scale actually. Since we are travelling with a celebrity," he looked pointedly at me while I rolled my eyes, "we get to fly first class!"

       There was a slight silence before Harry cheered and started jumping up and down. I ended up laughing at him, which started my mum off as well, and we walked, smiling the whole way for a trivial reason, to the first class lounge after we dropped off our baggage.

       I had never seen anything like it. I had once peeked into the business class lounge, which was pretty awesome in its own right, but this was a hole new story. Leather and velvet couches and massage chairs in the corner, food everywhere, a whole wall of alcoholic drinks and a huge games room. It had an amazing view of London (which could also be viewed on a balcony) seen through glass walls.

       My parents immediately went to the coffee and drinks section while Harry and I went straight to the games room.

       "Look, they've even got Mario Kart, Emma!" Harry told me excitedly, pulling me to the huge TV screen with a Wii.

       "I bet I can beat you," I teased him.

       "No, I bet I'll win, and then you'll have to be my slave until the end of time!" He countered, crossing his arms and trying to frown.

       "Of course. Let's find out, shall we, my little munchkin?"

      "Don't call me that!" He whined, plonking himself down on a beanbag and grabbing a controller.

       "Alright, let's get this party started!"I clapped my hands and let the game commence.

      Two minutes in, it was clear I was going to lose, and badly.

       It was humiliating to be defeated by my six-year-old brother. And I wasn't even letting him win!

       "Aargh, Harry, stop win the bananas, jeez!" I cried, frustrated, trying to dodge yet another of those bright yellow menaces.