Waiting For Superman

Fifteen

How can I measure the promise of love? When it's standing against a chance that comes once.

As soon as I boarded the plane I knew this was going to be the hardest decision of my life.

“Excuse me, do you mind if I take the window seat?” the lady said leaning over me.

“Yeah of course, I hate looking out the thing anyway” I smiled.

I squeezed out of the seats and onto the isle as she took the seat I was sitting in and I sat next to her.

I already missed everyone, especially Dylan.

I looked to the side of me as someone else joined us on the three seats connected on the left side of the plane.

He smiled and seemed friendly; I smiled back but looked down at the airline magazine.

As we reached the end of the runway and took off in the air, all the thoughts began to settle, about Dylan, about my friends, about my family and just about coming home with a clear head as to what I want to happen.

 “No matter how old you are, you never get used to flying” she lady next to me said, interrupting my trail of thought.

I smiled and heard a small chuckle from the seat next to me.

“I understand that and I’m still young” he promised us both.

“I am going to sleep, could you wake me up when they bring the tea?” she requested before facing the window and closing her eyes.

I smiled and looked back at the guy in the seat to the right of me.

He held out his tanned hand for me to hold.

“I’m Oliver” he smiled.

I took hold of his hand, his grip was firm. “Neavah” I smiled back, closing my magazine with the other hand.

“Well Neavah, that’s a beautiful name. Are you here for short term or long term stay?” he let go of my hand slowly and turned to face me.

“It’ll be for the next month, just to do volunteer work. Thank you and Oliver is a lovely name” I returned a compliment.

“It’s not Spanish though” he laughed.

I laughed with him, assuming he lived here but wanted to ask just in case.

 “You live here?” I smiled.

He nodded a reply to me. “I do”

“I’m staying in Centro”

“I live there”

 “What brings you here though?” He continued

“Like I said, work”

 “I actually feel that it is your work, but something always drives people away. You come across as if you are someone who has no baggage back at home. Or if you did, you don’t want to show it” he explained.

I’m not going to disagree, he was absolutely on the ball with this whole situation.

“A guy” I replied, short and powerful, also a sore subject.

He sighed. “Neavah, what do you do?” he questioned, not changing the subject, I felt this was leading somewhere.

“I am a volunteer” I replied, smiling at him.

“No what do you do in your spare time” he restructured his question.

“I write; I also work for different organisations to help people”