UK Lockout

I Find Out Why My Host Family Wears Black

I pushed back a strand of my thick black hair and stared at the Departures board of JFK airport. The flight to London Heathrow still showed up as on time, so I turned away from the board, ready to find something to eat before take off. I nearly ran into an older businessman, who gave me a look of utter disdain. Sighing, I muttered an apology, and then rushed to the nearest Starbucks.

The barista gave me a warm smile and a wink, before saying "Hey, beautiful. What can I get for ya?"'I did my best to ignore the guys blatant attempts at flirting, simply smiling and asking for a Java Chip Frappucino. He grinned and quickly jabbed the information into the cash register whilst grabbing a cup. "Your name, beautiful?"

I sighed heavily. "My name is Sam, who has a boyfriend."

"What?" He asked in confusion.

"Sam. Who. Has. A. Boyfriend." What an idiot.

The barista blushed and quickly scrawled "Sam" on my cup. I grinned to myself, and handed him a crumpled ten dollar bill. He quickly made change, plopped it in my hand and muttered "Have a nice day". He then nearly shouted,  "Can I help who's next?".

     I walked to the other side of the counter where another barista was making the drinks. As I stood there waiting, a man in a business suit sidled up next to me and stuck out his hand. "James Cathway", he said.

I stared blankly at the hand extended out to me. "What?" I asked.

"I'm James Cathway" he repeated, "It's a pleasure to meet you. "

I cautiously extended my hand to shake his. "Samantha Thompson", I said. I took this time to examine the bold man. He was tall, probably over six feet, with a thin build. He had piercing green eyes framed by the longest eyelashes I had ever seen. They would have made the Maybelline falsies model jealous. His hair was neatly cut, and midnight black, and he wore a black three-piece suit with the shiniest shoes I'd ever seen in my life.

"So, what brings you to JFK?" he asked.

Something about the casual way he said this set off alarm bells in my head. I paused for a minute, unsure of how to answer. Luckily, the second barista, David as his name tag read, called out,"Sam, Frappucino for Sam".

With a toss of my hair, I grabbed my cup and thanked the barista. Turning to James, I said, "Well it was nice meeting you" and sauntered away, leaving him with his mouth hanging open staring after me.

I walked away to my departure gate as quickly as I could. James Cathway had unnerved me in a way which I didn't think was possible. Why would a random man approach me like that? Was that his idea of flirting? What a creep.

Sighing, I took a sip of my Java Chip Frappucino, and plopped down into one of the worn blue chairs sitting at Gate 2B. I pulled out my phone from my back pocket and stared at the words on my screen. Good luck, sweetheart. I know you will have the time of your life.

My grandma had practically raised me, and her words brought tears to my eyes. I had started staying with her when I was nine years old, as my father and mother had departed on a mission trip to Uganda. My father was a Presbyterian minister, my mother was his assistant, and the two constantly told me it was the will of the Lord that they brought His word to the people of Africa. I understood this, but it made it nearly impossible for me to see them, so I was left  with my grandmother.

Grandma Rose was my paternal grandmother, and she was one of the fiercest, and most loving, women I had ever met. She had been there for me 100% of the time, whether it was going to a school concert, attempting to help me with my math homework, or enrolling me in ballet classes. I loved her more than anything, and I had never been parted from her for more than one night before this. Now, I was heading off to a foreign country for three weeks to experience life as a foreign exchange student.

My school counselor, Mr. Crissmaan had insisted that I become part of the program. "It will look so amazing on your resume", he had said.

After much trepidation, I had finally been convinced and enrolled in the program. It took little time for my application to be accepted and I was assigned a host family, the Greenwoods. All that I knew of them were that there were three of them, two parents and a child, and that they lived on Terrace Court Lane, about a forty-five minute drive from London. Other than that, I had no idea what to expect from life in the Greenwood home.

Just then, the man at the desk spoke into his telephone. A moment later a voice boomed over the intercom, "All passengers for priority boarding for Flight number 257, service to London Heathrow, please report now to the gate agent at Gate 2B to begin the boarding process".

I stood up quickly and strode towards the gate. Handing, the smiling gate agent my boarding pass, he scanned it and handed it back to me. With one last longing glance over my shoulder at the people of my country,  I strode forward into my uncertain future.