Not the Usual Trip to the Bathroom

Killer Suitcases and Paparazzi

A/N:

ok this is gonna be shorter-ish only because i've got finals this week and I SHOULD be studying but I wanted to do a quick little update so here you go- please vote/comment and thanks for reading :)

***

"Flight 3868, Chicago to LAX is now boarding, please make your way to the terminal"

I froze, my muffin in the air. I was sitting on a horribly uncomfortable stool at the counter of a little cafe in the airport. When I get nervous, I eat. And since I was graduating way early and leaving school, packing up my one teeny little suitcase, and flying across the country for an internship (and partially for a boy, don't tell my mother), I think it's safe to say I was just a bit nervous. Baked goods are calming.

"Once again, Flight 3868 is now boarding."

I glanced down at my ticket that was in my bag on the stool next to me. Of course. Of course that was MY flight they were announcing, and of course my flight would be departing from the terminal on the opposite side of the airport.

I threw my half eaten muffin in my bag, instantly regretting that because, well, now there was a muffin bouncing around in my purse and- yeah, I think that speaks for itself. At least I'll have a snack for later. A snack that'll probably be covered in bobby pins, coins, and whatever else was at the bottom of my purse.

Slinging my bag across my shoulder, I reached down for my suitcase and yanked on the handle. It was one of those rolling ones, but I walked way too fast and never in a straight line, kinda all over the place, so the stupid thing was always nipping at my heels. I was probably going to have scabs on the backs of my feet by the time I left the airport in L.A.

Alrighty, let's hope going to cross country practice for like, two weeks freshmen year will pay off now.

***

"Miss, are you okay?"

I blinked a couple times and... I was surrounded by a small group of people. There was some old dude standing over me, a concerned look on his face. Actually, they all looked a bit concerened. Suddenly aware of a throbbing in my head, I reached up to my forehead and- yep, there was a bump the size of an egg up there. "Um," I croaked, "what happened?"

"I think- well, I'm pretty sure you tripped over your suitcase. You were sprinting and your foot kinda just-" he shrugged, a sheepish look on his face, "Your foot caught the back of your suitcase and you went flying."

"Literally," a lady with yellow- yellow, not blonde, it looked like the color of a dandelion- hair and REALLY red lipstick behind him piped up, "You went, like five feet into the air and BAM!" she threw up her hands, my pain clearly a source of entertainment, "JUST LIKE THAT- you were out cold."

WAIT WHAT

"HOW LONG WAS I OUT!?" I jumped up, yanking my suitcase that kept trying to murder me up with me.

"I dunno, thirty seconds, a minute?"

I'VE STILL GOT TIME, JESUS IS REAL

"Thanks for making sure no one stole my stuff or ravaged my innocence, I gotta go!" I called over my shoulder as I took of running, once again. I finally saw the sign for my terminal and- there was a line. I probably have a concussion now from trying to make it to my flight that hadn't even fully boarded yet.

"What the hell did you do to your face?"

"The same thing that's going to happen to yours if you don't get your ass in line. Literally and figuratively." I turned to Rachel, who was leaning against the wall, flipping through a magazine.