Chapter 4

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Chapter 4- Sophie’s POV

“First class and zone 2 passengers may now be seated.” The attendant says through the intercom. I look over our tickets, and find the words First Class bolded. I shook Zoe, and grab my stuff. She tags along behind me in a sleepy state. A woman with long fingernails asks for my ticket, and I hand it to her so it could be scanned. When my ticket was returned, I grab Zoe’s from her bag and do the same for her. The lady waves us through.

“Seats 1c and 1b,” I say, not expecting Zoe to respond. We walk up to a three-seater, and she scoots in first. I let her take the window seat, because I don’t like to see how far up I am. I’m terribly afraid of heights. She hands me our suitcases, and I thrust them into the overhead cabin easily. It has been a long morning, and I can’t wait to catch some sleep. I cover myself up with my blanket. I turn to Zoe, but she’s already passed out. I pull my hair into a knot above my head, sigh, and let my eyelids drop.

It feels like I have been asleep for days, when something bumps my elbow off of the armrest. I growl and push Zoe back. No one messes with me when I’m sleeping. But i’m surprised to hear a man’s voice yelp, instead of Zoe’s. My hazel eyes shoot open, and I see a boy clutching his arm in the seat next to me. My eyes widen.

“Oh my god! I’m sorry! I thought you were my friend.” I apologize, gesturing to Zoe, who is asleep beside me. He gives me a weak smile.

“It’s alright. Sorry to bother you, I had requested to be moved because the kid behind me wouldn’t let me sleep.” He replies. He reaches out his hand, “I’m Edward.” I shake it, smiling. It’s hard not to stare at his abs which are visible underneath his tight Tee.

“Sophie. And this is Zoe, the reason I pushed you.” I chuckle, pointing at her. She snores lightly and mumbles something, but neither I nor Edward can understand it. I wipe the sleepiness away from my eyes, and take off the blanket.

We talk for a little bit, and he is really funny. I think he may be taking a liking to me. We speak about his family, his home, and I learn our birthdays are only 4 days apart from each other. He laughs at a lot of my lame jokes, and makes me blush madly.

“What types of music do mummies listen to?” I ask, giggling. Edward rubs his make believe beard, making his biceps move, which makes me exhale loudly. I sit up straight, quickly holding in a laugh and hoping he didn’t hear. He doesn’t, and can’t think of an answer.

“Wrap!” I say, chuckling. He laughs out loud at its stupidity, making me crack up.

“Okay, okay, okay.” Edward says, holding up his hand in an effort to quiet us. It takes a second, but the laughing soon returns to little snickers. “Why is there no gambling in Africa?” He says, a serious masking his face. I bite my lip, thinking.

“Uh...” I mutter. “There’s no casinos?” I chuckle. But he shakes his head. “Umm, errr... ok! Fine! I don’t know! Why is there no gambling in Africa, Edward?” I inquire, miming a microphone next to his mouth. I notice my chipped baby blue nails, and make a mental note to repaint soon.

“Because there’s too many cheetahs!” We fall into another fit, until we are both hunched over, cramping from all of the laughter. Finally our stomachs allow us to sit back up, and I am smiling from ear to ear. I think I like this boy. A lot.

I sleep the rest of the 3 hours. The voice of the captain speaking on the intercom makes me wake up. He says we’ll be landing soon. Zoe is still out, with her legs on my lap and head against the side of the plane. I gather up the courage and tap Edward on the shoulder. He pulls out his earphones, turning towards me.

“Hey,” I begin, “do you wanna, maybe, hang out in London a bit?” I bite my lip, waiting for an answer. Maybe I was being too forward. Maybe he was one of those people that thought it was desperate when girls ask guys out. I look down at my feet, embarrassed.

“Oh, honey. I’m sorry. You thought I was straight?” He smiles sympathetically, lifting up his iPod to reveal Poker Face by Lady Gaga on replay. I blush and laugh at myself. I thought the conversation was over, but he continues talking, “that doesn’t mean I don’t wanna hang, though! Here’s my number,” He says. Edward pulls out a pen from his messenger bag, and writes the digits on the napkin the flight attendants gave me earlier. I was glad. I still had a lot of fun with him.

“Thanks!” I say, and we land not three minutes later.

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