This is deicated to Tilah1D4evertwihard just because of her amazing support, great comments, and continued interest. Thank you, and check out her book, some good stuff there.
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I guess it was my mistake.
My mistake in thinking that the fake-blonde, blue-eyed, Barbie look-alike, air hostess was harmless. She was anything but. It was just my luck though. Trust me to discover a person more sadistic and conceited than the very Mason Tanner himself.
I could have handled the fourteen-year-old comment. I could have brushed it off and enjoyed the rest of my flight. I may have even been able to tolerate her suggestion of going for the unsalted peanuts. And hey, perhaps her knocking the the food cart into my shin on my way to the bathroom had been an accident after all.
But the flirting. God, the flirting. The hours I had had to endure with her constant, high-pitched giggles and Mason's cringe-worthy jokes were starting to do my head in. At the rate this was going, I'd be certifiably insane by the time we touched down in Heathrow.
And Mason was loving it. Every single moment. However, I had a strong feeling that he was enjoying my misery more than all of the attention he was suddenly getting.
Thus, there I was, three hours after take-off, sitting in my seat and trying not to flinch at every squeal of laughter that burst from her lips. Britney, was her name. I discovered that two and a half hours ago.
Mason wasn't that funny. No human being was that funny. And Christ, didn't she have a job to do?
I jumped as she let out another loud laugh, and thus, turned my head swiftly towards her.
"I'd really love a glass of water." I said clearly, my smile as fake as the eyelashes she kept batting in Mason's direction.
She narrowed her eyes at me. "You had one like, five minutes-"
"Well I'm thirsty again. Parched throat. You know how it is."
Reluctantly, she removed her hand from Mason's shoulder and strutted down the aisle.
Mason threw me a glance, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Everything all-"
"Stop this now." I hissed, leaning forward in my seat. "You're driving me insane. She's driving me insane-"
"Not like you were far from it."
"I'm being serious Mason." I said, my eyes narrowing in on his. "If this carries on, I'll move seats."
Mason sighed and gave me tired look. He was tired? Son of a bitch.
"I don't know what you want me to do Rose. She's here by her own choice; I can't help it if she's so into me."
"Then stop leading her on! The flirting, the jokes- which are super shit by the way- you know what you're doing."
"Jealous?"
"Mason."
"Ooh, serious voice."
That's it.
I stood up, my eyes searching down the aisle.
"You can't just move seats, Rose." Mason said from below me, his voice patronising.
I smiled when I spotted a vacant seat three rows down, next to a dark haired man.
"Sure I can." I scooted past Mason and flashed him a smile. "Tell Britney that it's her lucky day. She just scored a seat next to Mason Tanner."
Mason frowned but I didn't care. Making my way down the aisle, I began to lose my confidence with every step. This would be very embarrassing if the seat was in fact occupied, and the person was just in the bathroom. However, I couldn't turn back now, not with Mason already anticipating my failure, and so I reluctantly walked up to the empty seat.
"Hi." I said awkwardly to the guy sitting there. "Uh... is this taken?"
The man appeared to be in his mid-twenties, and was busy watching some sort of soap opera on the screen in front of him. He had black hair which had a sort of wet shine to it, and rough stubble that coated his entire chin. His skin was pale, almost sickly.
Looking up at me, I was greeted with small eyes, the colour of wet soil.
"No. It's free." He glanced down my body. "You can sit if you'd like?"
No going back now.
So I gave the guy a small smile and sat down, careful not to touch him. "Thanks."
He took off his earphones and turned slightly in his seat to face me and I suddenly felt self-conscious with his attention on me. He stuck out his hand. "Slade."
He had a British accent, thus I presumed that he was heading home.
I returned his handshake, rather reluctantly, and bit my lip at the damp warmness of his hand. "Rose."
"So what are you doing over here Rose?" He asked, his dull brown eyes searching my face.
I chuckled uncomfortably. "Fighting with my exchange partner."
"You going on exchange? How old are you?" His eyes flickered to my chest very quickly before looking up again.
"Seventeen."
"Woah. You look much older."
I laughed weakly. I think I preferred Britney's comment.
"So where are you staying in the UK?"
"Um, an hour out of London."
The guy, Slade's, eyes brightened and his mouth curved up. "I have a flat right on the edge of London. It's not much, I mean, I'm still starting out with my business, but when it's up and running, I'll probably invest in one of those nice, built up penthouses in the centre of London."
There was a beat of silence.
"Uh... what is it that you're planning on doing?" I asked, feeling obligated to ask.
That was my second mistake. God, if I could have taken that question back I would have.
"I'm planning on starting up a store which sells vintage comic books."
And then for the next hour, I was educated about the world of comics
I knew that collectors categorised them into five 'ages' over time, starting with 'platinum' in the late eighteen-hundreds, to golden, silver, bronze and finally, modern. I discovered that Spiderman, Green Lantern and Batman were still the most popular comic book franchises, and that the first comic strips ever released were called Hogan's Alley in a local newspaper.
Half an hour through the guy's own personal comic preferences, I abruptly sat up from my seat, wondering what would make me crazier. Barbie's relentless flirting or Slade's endless chatter about the the Incredible Hulk graphics.
"Bathroom." I stated, my smile strained.
I moved quickly back to our row, not caring about the shit that Mason would give me, but halted when I saw that my seat was now occupied.
"You have got to be kidding me." I muttered, staring at Mason and the long-legged blonde on his left.
Mason looked up at my presence, and flashed me an overly cheerful smile.
"Sup Rose. How's it going over there?" His eyes glanced behind me at where I'd been sitting before meeting my eyes again.
I gritted my teeth. "Seriously? Don't you have a job?" I questioned the air hostess, who fondly had her hand on Mason's arm.
She flashed me a sweet smile. "I'm on my break."
I nodded slowly, unable to fathom how wrongly this situation had gone for me.
"You did say that she could have the seat." Mason said, his eyes glinting with pleasure. "Unless... you want to come back for some reason?"
And there, ladies and gentleman, was my third mistake. My pride.
"No." I scoffed, crossing my arms in front of my chest. "I'm just on my way to the bathroom."
Mason raised an eyebrow, scepticism evident on his features.
"Oh really?"
"Yup. Enjoy though."
And then the last of my dignity left me as I marched down the aisle and pretended to pee for five minutes, staring into the mirror and cursing myself for my own stupidity.
Thus, a couple of minutes later I found myself sitting next to Slade again, growing more miserable by the second. On my return, he flashed me a smile, which for some reason unsettled me, and said, "I thought you'd ditched me."
I laughed weakly.
And it went on for another half an hour, him asking me question after question, each one becoming more intrusive, while I replied with short and vague answers, becoming more and more uncomfortable. The worst thing was that during the entire time, I knew for a fact that he was checking me out, his eyes roaming down to my chest every couple of minutes.
"Maybe we could meet up if you're going to be staying near London for a while?" Sade mentioned, his hand resting way too close on the armrest next to me.
My stomach flipped uncomfortably. I opened my mouth to come up with some excuse, but was fortunately saved by the clanking drink cart.
"I'm so happy you managed to find a new seat." Closing my eyes in dismay, I turned my head to face Britney.
This was a plane ride from hell.
"Yeah, well, not like I had much of a-"
A loud gasp broke from my lips as cold water came into contact with my chest. Water streamed down my arms and neck and underneath my shirt, instantly making me cold. I looked up, my face a mixture of shock and anger.
"What the hell?" I exclaimed, taking in the empty cup in her hand and her innocent features. Her blue eyes were wide with feigned guilt.
"I'm so sorry ma'am." She said worriedly. "That was completely my fault, the cup slipped out of my hand-"
"I'm sure it did."
"I really am sorry ma'am. I could get you a towel-"
"Just go." I muttered, suddenly tired.
I sighed and wiped the wet droplets off of my arms, shivering at the coldness. The air-conditioning of the plane didn't help either.
Before leaving, the air-hostess murmured, "Your water that you requested ma'am."
Psycho bitch.
"Man, what's going on between you two?" Slade then asked, and I closed my eyes.
"You tell me." I muttered lowly, and in an attempt to preserve some heat, I hugged my body.
Slade was quiet and I opened my eyes to glance at him, only to find his wandering eyes planted on my shirt, which was now wet and exposing the bra below it.
I bit my lip and twisted my body away, suddenly feeling deeply upset. This sucked. My first flight sucked so far, and out of nowhere, I felt tears forming in my eyes. If I was already this miserable on the journey over, how would I handle three months alone? An overwhelming feeling of homesickness hit me, and so I closed my eyes again, hoping to push the emotions away and just fall asleep.
"Anyway, as I was saying." Slade suddenly piped up, however I didn't have the energy to turn around. "Maybe we should make plans-"
"If she were a decade older." Came a low and cutting voice from above me, and I lifted my head to see Mason standing in the aisle.
I had never really realised how big Mason actually was. Not as in bulky with muscle, but lean and firm, with the body of an athlete. However, it was the way in which Mason held himself, with broad shoulders, a straight spine, and a pushed-out chest that made him look much more intimidating than he was. And right then he looked scary, with his eyes narrowed at Slade, and his jaw tensed.
But when his eyes flickered down to me, they widened. "Why are you wet?"
I didn't reply, hugging my body tighter, blaming Mason for the entire situation.
"Jesus." Mason muttered, before promptly taking a hold of my wrist and pulling me up from the seat. I thought about protesting, but the fight had left me. I was bone-tired.
He looked down at me with a set of firm eyes, and for some reason, they eased me.
"C'mon, we're going to back to our seats."
Before however, Mason slipped the black sweatshirt he was wearing, and handed it over to me.
"Put that on, before you flash the entire plane." I blushed, but took the hoodie gratefully, quickly slipping it over my head. It was obviously way too big for me and fell to my mid-thigh. But God it was warm, and smelt like Mason's aftershave, and all of a sudden I didn't feel so bad anymore.
Just as we were about leave, Slade said, "I don't think she wants to sit with you, buddy."
I turned around, not wanting to look at his face anymore. He was a creep. Mason glanced at him and then at me, and I shook my head slightly, urging him to go.
Mason's face grew hard and I suddenly felt the support of his hand on my lower back. "Well, she sure as hell isn't sitting with you."
And then Mason towed us back to our seats.