hello, this is the author, lauren here. this is my first (official) story here on wattpad. i'm a newbie :) if you could, please comment/like/share this story! the more of these i get, the faster i shall unravel the story!
"Seriously, Fish, I'll miss you."
My name isn't really Fish, nor is my surname. It's actually my nickname, fingers pointed at Sierra. 'Fish' derived from the time when we decided to find out what all the fuss about Call of Duty was. It was a little while go, about three years ago. All the boys in our class at Mountmont High were a little obsessed with it. Well, maybe more than that. But anyway, Sierra became curious, which, for her, wasn't unusual. So I reluctantly took a trip to her cousin's place, where we tried it out. And, I was sorry to say, I really enjoyed it. Of course though, I didn't let Sierra find that out.
A few days after the gaming excursion, I secretly bought the CD-rom for CoD. Big mistake. If I had known what Sierra would call me, I would steer clear from the shooting games and buy a Guitar Hero set instead. I couldn't foresee my future though.
As soon as I had the game tucked safely into the CD-rom drive, I couldn't stay away. It literally stole my life. Unfortunately for me though, my short-lived craze lasted only until Sierra wanted to load her new album onto iTunes.
When she saw the disc pop out, the first thing she did was laugh.
"Mason!" I remember she said, in a mock-scolding tone, "I didn't know that you were a tomboy! I thought you were more of the Bratz type!" I blushed at that. At that age, we were already way too old for Bratz dolls.
"I..." There was not one excuse I could think of, so instead, I babbled, "I got the disk 'cos it came, like, free with headphones." I didn't strike gold though, she thought I had said 'I got the disk 'cos it came like fish with headnotes'.
And that was the memorable moment when my famous nickname 'Fish' was born.
Looking at Sierra straight in the eye would make me burst out in a river of tears, so instead, I stared at the coffee stain on the worn carpet and whispered, "I'll miss you too, Sierra."
I heard her give a strangled squeal—whether of misery, or a sudden gratefulness towards my statement, I don't know—and gave me a tight squeeze around my abdomen. No one in the airport lounge seemed to notice.
Being 177 centimetres tall made it almost impossible for anyone to look me in the eye, let alone hug properly. Sierra was almost 160 centimetres, which in my town was not awfully short, but still petite compared to me. However, on the plus side, towering over Sierra meant that she couldn't boss me around as much as she could if I were her height.
Sierra sighed and sat down on the bench behind her, with her handbag resting on her lap. "Sometimes I wish I could teleport. Like Nightcrawler from X-Men, y' know? I wouldn't have to be late to school all the time, and I could win all the cross country races at school." I was about to point out that someone would be able to tell if she teleported during a race and disqualify her, but I decided to keep my big mouth shut for once. It was always interesting listening to Sierra's rare philosophical monologues. "But the best thing I would be able to do with this power is to travel the world. Visiting Queen Elizabeth when it's her birthday, taking happy snaps on the Eiffel Tower, or even just going to the Oscars.
"When I found out that we were going to Brazil though, I thought about teleportation again, and realised that the thing I'd want to do most with it is to go home. I mean here, not Rio de Janeiro. Like getting home after a day of work. I'm gone for a few hours, then back. But, do you know how long it takes to physically fly there by plane?"
I answered her question without deciding if it was rhetorical or not. "Nup. Five hours, maybe?"
Sierra's lip trembled dramatically as she shook her head sadly. She tempestuously declared, "It takes 37 hours! A day and 13 hours! Do you know how long that is?"
"Um, 2220 minutes?"
Taking in a deep breath, Sierra said, apparently annoyed by my incorrect response, "A long time. And if I can't sit still in a single maths class, do you really think I could endure that?"
I made no reply this time. Sierra had a bad habit of getting melodramatic, especially when I fuelled her by answering her nonsensical questions. It was no wonder that she had won the Interschool Speech Competition, become school drama captain, was given a Best Actress Award for the annual theatre production in consecutive years and got a chance to speak one line in a Hollywood film. Trust me on this, it's hard to get the chance to speak one full word in a film, let alone a whole sentence. I had emailed the producers of the film if I could be an extra, but they didn't reply until one and a half years after the movie premiered.
In short, it was very possible that Sierra could throw a sob-fest or a temper tantrum right now, in this public space. And I had to do whatever I could to save her pride and my sanity.
"Hey, Sierra?" I casually said. She blinked, surprised that I had changed the subject. "How much longer is it until your flight?"
Right on cue, Sierra's mum and dad, Sonya and Sion strode in. They were finally back from the cafe.
Sonya smiled politely at me, then immediately turned to her daughter. "Honey, it's time to go now. Say ta to your friend and then we'll go."
Not missing a beat, Sierra ran up to me and embraced me. I smelt a strange fusion of lavender and sweat on her. I hugged her back, and a few tears managed to fall through my closed eyelids. I think Sierra noticed, as she pulled back a little and began to sniff.
After several brief minutes of hugging and saying goodbye and crying, Sonya nudged her emotional daughter and whispered a sharp remark in her ear. Just like that, Sierra composed herself, waved to me and disappeared through the glass sliding doors with her parents. Just like that. And I didn't even get to tell her how tasty those chocolate brownies that she had given me the day before were.
YOU ARE READING
Unlock MeTeen Fiction
Mason Delahunty seems to be normal in every way. But that's where you're fooled. Mason constantly finds herself looking for a place to fit in. To do this, she has to wear the right clothes, do the right thing and say the right things... But the most...