I would like to note that I do not promote pedophilia! Pedophilia is disgusting! Yes, I describe Pandora's feelings toward Ward as sexual, but this is a teenager and do not tell me that you did not have a crush on a celebrity that was an adult when you were a teenager! Again! I do not promote pedophilia! If you know someone who is an adult and is being sexually inappropriate towards youths, call the police! You could be saving someone's innocence!
Also, the way she describes anyone isn't meant to be harmful to anyone in any way, she's just a complete asshole.
-Bethany
"Your passports?" a woman asked at the desk. Ward had already made me a passport and according to him, his people on the inside already had our weapons on the plane.
I handed her my passport and Ward did the same. "I can see where she gets her jawline from," the woman flirts. Wait, what? Did he seriously make it so that we were related? "I'm surprised you have a nine-year-old. You don't seem the type to go without protection at a young age," she continued to flirt. Nine?! What did he tell H.Y.D.R.A. to put on these passports?!
"Thank you, but to be honest I think she looks more like her mother, but she did die while giving birth to this angel," Ward thanks as he pulls me to his side. This was the moment I knew that this wasn't going to be a great two weeks.
"Nine?! Seriously?! I'm not that short!" I yelled at him.
"Keep your voice down. You don't know who's listening," he whispered as he covered my mouth with his big muscular hand. Goddamnit...
"I know, but seriously? We could've gotten caught in a lie with that joke of yours," I said as I lowered his hand.
"I think they would've had a bigger problem if we had said you were fourteen."
"I am fourteen," I groan, "Anyway, why do we have to wait? I hate waiting, makes things more boring."
"We're waiting for the plane. God, you are really nine-years-old," he groans back.
"I know! Let's play deductions!" I say, "I usually play this against myself, but I think it'll be more interesting with someone of a lower IQ."
"Fine, how do you play?"
"Well, I'll usually find someone that'll be staying in one spot for a little while, then we just deduct about his life. Whoever gets the most right wins," I explain. "How about that woman over there? She's going on the same flight as us since we're in the same terminal."
"Okay, I'm guessing she's going to Russia for business because of the way she is dressed," Ward guesses.
"Man, do they not teach you this stuff in school?" I murmur. "No, she's not. Her clothes are way too casual and flirtatious, but yet they're too uncomfortable for a twenty-four-hour flight. I'd say that a friend told her they'd be working for this flight and she has a sexual interest in this person. Your turn."
"Okay, so she has an interest in someone on this flight. I'd say that the other person has a crush on her as well since they told them about the flight," Ward continues. I rolled my eyes. "Am I wrong?"
"Yes, you can tell by how slutty she's dressing. I'm guessing this other person already has a significant other, that's why she's trying so hard."
"How can you tell she's trying hard?"
"The obviously uncomfortable lacey bra you can see under her white button-up. Lacey bras are always extremely uncomfortable, not to mention her button-up is also too tight. Not to mention her lipstick, it's slightly smeared, so she wants him or her to notice and point it out," I explain, "I know a girl like her. Usually, the other person isn't interested or they already have a significant other."
"You're good. How do you do it?"
"Normal people look, but never observe."
"So, this girl you know... she like your boyfriend?" he asks.
"No, but she likes a guy who's interested in me," I answer, "I'm not sure how I feel about him, though. Both he and his parents say that we've been friends since we were little, but to my knowledge, I only met him three years ago. I did kiss him on the cheek yesterday; that was interesting."
"Well, if you kissed him yesterday, it seems like you like him back."
"That's what it'd seem to a normal person, but to me, it means that me meeting you has made my hormones go out of whack, making me act impulsively."
"Terminal A16, your flight to Irkutsk, Russia is ready."
I stood up with Ward in tow. We gave the man our tickets and boarded the plane. We walked the narrow walkway of the plane to our seats where I see a big stinky man sitting in the window seat.
"Sit," Ward instructs as he shoves me into the middle seat.
"You hate me, don't you?" I glare at him. He gives a hearty chuckle as he stows our bags away.
I roll my eyes as I slouch in my seat and pull over my hood. I pull the strings of my hoodie down as I blush. That chuckle was not sexy. That chuckle was not sexy! That chuckle was... absolutely sexy... Goddamnit! Why does everything he does sexy?
"I hate you," I groan to Ward.
"Hey, you shouldn't talk to your dad like that," the big stinky man intrudes. I look him up and down. He wore an extra large shirt with a pickle on it. It had several food stains on it and his chubby fingers seemed to be permanently stained orange from Cheeto dust. He had a goatee that looked like he stuck his pubes to his face and his hair was slicked back in a greasy ponytail. "Hey, dude," he says to Ward, "I can give you some advice on how to keep your kid in check."
"Oh. Are you a parent?" Ward asks as he sits down.
"No, he's not. In fact, he's a virgin and has no significant other. In fact, he doesn't even babysit," I answer for the guy. The guy's face goes purple with anger and disgust.
"Now, Jamie, apologize to the man. That wasn't very nice," Ward instructs as he acts fatherly.
"So, it's not nice to state a fact? I thought lying wasn't nice," I complain, "I'm not apologizing for stating facts. He shouldn't be giving advice when he has no experience in a field and that includes parenting."
I stared at the man. "Your name is William Love, right? Tell me, William, do you have kids?"
"I don't think that is any of your business," he states.
"So, that's a no. Have you ever lost your virginity?" I ask.
"You need to shut up your kid," he states to Ward.
"Yeah, I think I do," Ward agrees, "As soon as we're up in the air, I'll have a private talk with her." He glares at me as I buckle my seatbelt.
As I was setting up a movie for myself to watch on my Ipad, Ward grabbed my wrist. "We need to talk," he says. He stands up from his chair as he leads me to the bathroom. He shoves me into the bathroom as he locks the door. "What do you think you were doing?" he asks. I sit down on the lid of the toilet as he begins talking.
"I was just stating facts. People shouldn't give other people advice if they don't know what they're talking about. Like, I shouldn't give people cooking advice because I don't know how to fucking cook. I'd think that'd be fairly obvious," I state. He pinches the bridge of his nose as he groans in annoyance.
"We're on a twenty-four-hour flight with this guy and I'd rather be looking up more information on the guy we're after rather than apologizing for your behavior," Ward argues, "So, you're going to go out there and apologize for your rude behavior."
"Why? What's the point if it doesn't mean anything?" I ask, "It just seems like effort I could use for something else."
"It doesn't matter if it's genuine 'cause I know no matter what I do, you'll never actually feel bad about insulting him 'cause you don't even feel bad about killing people," he whisper-yells.
"Fine, just stop," I state, "I'll apologize, just stop lecturing me." I stand up and open the door and walk out.
We walk back to our seats. I tap William's shoulder. "Hey, listen, I'm sorry. I dug a little too deep, but I want you to apologize to my dad for offering invalid advice," I apologize and demand.
"No advice is invalid," he argues.
"Facebook has lied to you, William. Just because a statement has a minion next to it does not mean it's true," I say, "Anyway, just apologize to my dad. It can't be that hard." I had the biggest smirk as I looked up at Ward.
"Fine, I'm sorry for putting in my opinion," he groans.
"Thank you," I say as I sit down happily.
"You being happy scares me," Ward mutters to me as he sits down as well. I just stick my tongue out at him as I put my headphones on.
I had fallen asleep as I was listening to my music. Then, I get awaken by the sound of a click. I wake up to find Ward standing in front of me with his phone pointed at me. "Were you taking a picture of me sleeping?" I ask with sleep still evident in my voice.
"What can I say? You looked peaceful and innocent for once," he chuckles.
"Give me your phone," I grumble as I blush. I stuck out my hand from my pocket.
"No way. This is going to be my screensaver from now until I die," he states as he sits down. He pushes a few buttons on his phone and then shows me.
There it was. A picture of me with my headphones on, curled up in a ball on the small airplane seat asleep.
"Delete it," I demand.
"No way," he says.
"I'll take it from you."
"I'd like to see you try."
I lunged onto him in his lap. I grab hold of his phone, but then he yanks it out of my grip. "Sit back down," he demands.
"Not until you delete that picture."
"We can talk about it when we land, just not right here."
I slink back into my seat as I cross my arms. "Yeah, whine all you want."
"This is going to be the worst two weeks of my life..."
"Why did your bosses choose the worst possible hotel?" I ask.
"It's close to where he works, it's close to where he lives, and it's recommended for tourists," Ward answers as he finishes putting his clothes away. His clothes were mainly made of casual work attire and a few tourist pieces of clothing. There was also makeup and colored eye contacts. "These are for you," he says as he throws the contacts to me.
"Why do I need colored contacts?"
"If we're seen, they'll most likely identify you with different colored eyes. I got you blue eye contact lenses, so they'll just be the same color." I took one of the contacts out and observed it.
"So, do you wanna know who won our little game?" I asked as I looked up at him.
"Sure, why not?"
"I did. I won and so did that woman just not in the way I expected."
"How?"
"Well, I saw her casually talking with one of the flight attendance like old friends, then she began whispering to him, but he awkwardly turned her down. Then he told her he'd get another flight attendant to get her coffee," I explained, "Then, the next flight attendant came with her coffee and the woman being horny whispered in her ear the same question. The flight attendant shyly agreed and brought her to the back."
"You know, a lot of kids your age aren't comfortable talking about that stuff," Ward reminds.
"I know, I just don't care. I've learned from my observations that sex and lust can get you important information, though I've never used it."
The room we were in had white and blue patterned wallpaper with two queen-sized beds. I was glad that they had at least gotten us separate beds. The beds had white bed sets, while there was also a box TV sat in the middle between both.
"You've burned your fingerprints off, right?" I asked.
"No. Why would I do that?" he asked.
"Evidence is just smaller witnesses. It doesn't hurt, trust me," I say, "There's a stove over there, though a blowtorch would be better."
"You're saying you've burned your fingerprints off. Sorry if I don't believe you," he says in disbelief. I raised my hand to him. There were no fingerprints on any of my fingers. I did it a few years back when I was planning to rob a bank for the first time. He grabbed my hand as he traced my fingers over with his thumb. "And you're saying it didn't hurt?"
"Well, I guess it did, but I wasn't afraid of it hurting. You don't have to fear pain 'cause that's what causes it."
"Why?" he asked. His words seemed to be laced with anger and worry. Why does he sound so worried? I said it didn't hurt...
"It was for my first job. I pickpocketed this guy named Oswald and he tracked me down and asked if I'd be willing to rob a bank for him. I didn't want to get in trouble in any way, so I burned off my fingerprints," I explained, "Don't get so mad about it. It was years ago."
He flung my hand back. "When we get back, you're getting a psych test," he tells me. I clutch my hand.
"No, I'm not. When we get back, I'm getting my pay and I'm never seeing you again," I coldly state, "My mental health is none of your concern."
Ward throws a jacket at me in the middle of the night. "What the hell?" I ask groggily.
"Get ready; we're going over there to check out the house," he instructs me.
"It's two AM, though and I'm tired," I complain.
"You want to prove to me that you're not nine, then stop acting like it."
I grumpily put the black hoodie over my t-shirt as he also throws a pair of some sort of pants.
"That's what the professionals wear," he informs, "Both of those are bulletproof, so you won't get shot." I slip the pants over my shorts as I grab my beanie. I shove the black beanie over my brown hair as Ward throws a pair of glasses at me.
"Let me guess, these things are both night-vision and bulletproof?"
"Right on the mark." I place the glasses over my eyes. "Here's your gun." He tosses me my gun. I immediately steady the gun on my other hand as I aim it at him just to check it's weight.
"Good, you actually loaded it," I said.
We both jump from our window onto the fire escape. We shimmy our ways down to the ground. "Let me get the GPS for our glasses up."
"Don't need it," I inform, "We go left, left, right, right, left. I've memorized it."
"Fine, but if we get lost--"
"We won't get lost."
Sneaking our way around, we ended up at his house. Ward dismantles the security with his computer. "Hand me my tools," I instruct. He hands me my lock picking kit. I open it and take out the tools needed. I pick the lock with ease. "You'd think with the amount of security he has, he'd have a better lock on his door." I opened the door as I immediately began inspecting the house.
It seemed to be a slight mess, but that's to be expected when they have a new baby. There were parenting books on the ground, though none of them were in English.
I continue to observe the terrain as I ended up walking into the baby's nursery. I felt longing as I entered the room. I didn't long for the room; it was something else beneath the surface.
I backed away from the door, almost as if I were afraid of the room itself. I ended up backing into Ward. "You okay?"
"Y-Yeah, let's just get out of here. I don't like how it's making me feel," I stuttered as I looked down at my shoes.
Why? Why did that room make me feel things?
"What's got you so rattled? I thought you didn't fear anything."
I looked up at Ward. He had just gotten out of the shower and had gotten dressed. "It was nothing, just probably some old feelings getting in the way. I have to focus today."
"I still think you should get a psych test, whether it be for me or yourself," he says. He then tosses me my clothes. They consisted of something a nine-year-old would wear.
"I hate you," I remind him.
"I know, go take a shower and get changed. We're going to his work today."