Jump. //Jai Courtney Fanfiction

seventeen

"Not for BWI sir, the delay is on their end," the airport personnel informed me.

I slammed my hand on the counter, startling her.

"I... I'm sorry. I just... Ugh," I grumbled as I walk away.

I look at my watch and see that it is 9:52AM. On Christmas. And I'm stuck at LAX. I was late to leave Australia yesterday anyway and this shit is not fucking helping. I can't help but rest my elbows on my knees and frustratingly lace my fingers in my hair. Mumbling expletives under my breath I have to force myself to not send a hundred texts to Ayla. She knows the flight details and knows there's a delay. I haven't heard her voice since yesterday morning, and it's because I don't want to. I don't want to hear the disappointment or sadness because it's snowing on the east coast. Fuck. Fucking snow. Last I was told by my mum and everyone else that lives in that state it usually doesn't fucking snow in December. It figures. It fucking figures. I barely notice the young woman that approaches me from the right. The same one that was at the desk that I was telling at only moments ago.

"Sir, I'm sorry to tell you this, but I thought it was best you know that the marquee is about to change. The flight to BWI was delayed until 1:00," she uneasily said to me, forcing a smile that I'm sure she's used to.

Without moving my body from its current position, all I did was roll my head in my hands up to listen to her. My eye contact spoke a thousand words I'm sure, but I tried to stay calm. As she finished I just flashed a competitive forced grin that was sitting on the edge of sarcasm.

When she walked away all I could do was clench my jaw and close my eyes. This just keeps getting worse. I look out and see the plane that I'm supposed to be getting on, shining like a metal beam in the sun. The fucking sun. And it's snowing in Maryland. I pulled out my phone and just held it in my hand for a few seconds, ultimately spinning it a few times before finally composing a text.

2 hour delay. Flight leaves at 1.

I want to call her, but then I don't. So instead I'm going to sit here and pout.

*Okay babe. Keep me posted!

Not the response I thought I'd get, but the one I wanted. Three hours until I can get on the plane and then five hours after that until I'm home. If I'm lucky. The only things that I can think to preoccupy my time is to sleep or get on the computer. Since there's really nothing to look at on the latter besides pictures of Ayla and a blueprint of the house I'm going to have built for her, I'll settle for sleep.

*

Two hours to go until I'm in Maryland, and that's after an extra hour was added to the fucking flight because we had to linger a little in the air thanks to the snow. I'm lucky to get there on-time at all. I've slept enough, I've played on my phone enough; All I want to do is sit down with Ayla and finish this Christmas with her.

I shot her an email in flight to let her know updated statuses and received a short and sweet 'Ok, I'll see you when you're home!' response. Any other day of the fucking year I would have been able to use my dad's jet most likely, but because it's the holiday season nobody works. Which is fine. I'm not complaining. I am complaining, but for the wrong reasons. I can't kick this mood that I'm in because of all this and I can't even force myself to make conversation with the guy sitting next to me. Normally, that's not an issue. I can usually launch into a random conversation with just about anyone, but because I'm sure I'm emitting some sort of asshole aura, he hasn't made the effort to speak to me. Who knows, maybe he's as pissed off as I am.

I guess I just have to force myself to sleep for the next few hours.

*

I stand and tap my foot impatiently while waiting for my fucking luggage to come around.