Chapter 1
I sat cross-legged in the booth at the back of the airport café, just letting life drift pass me as I immersed myself in the paperback I was reading. It's an excellent read actually, perfect for me. It's called The Psychology of Proof: Deductive Reasoning in Human Thinking, I had been working on it for the past two days, none stop, not caring about the dry ache that was prominent in both my eyes.
I paused, looking up from the size ten font, seeing my dad making his way over to the booth, discussing this months stock increase into his Bluetooth, his black suit ironed crisp and clean, his shoes shined to mirror like standards and his black hair slicked back with a frightening amount of gel. Jip. That was my dad, CEO millionaire and natural born businessman. His handsome, but no-shit serious features got results and a net worth of…cough…couch…not exactly your business now is it?
As my dad finished up his one sided conversation with some poor old soul on the other line, he slid into the booth across the table and ran his fingers through his hair, a sign of obvious stress and financial strain of some sort.
"Was that the new guy, Jerry?" I asked my grim faced dad who grunted in response, he was always the silent type, that's what mom said at least.
"If you need a job done, its best to just do it yourself. I'm telling you." Mumbled my dad, mostly to himself. I smiled at that, it was…interesting to see someone love their job so much. If there was one thing my dad loved doing, it was making money and he was damn good at it too.
After I completely devoured my red velvet cupcake and chugged down my pink lemonade I asked my dad if I could take a look around, seeing as his gourmet omelet and espresso had just arrived, and he said I could. I had been in many different airports all around the world by now and there wasn't anything that was too exciting about a million and one gift stores all in one place, but I really needed to stretch my legs, so why not?
Committing the page number I was on to memory and placing the paperback in my satchel, I skipped through the building, letting my thoughts drift into a land of yellow tape and evidence lockers, passing the same flower cart four times before stepping into the cutest little sweet shop.
It was small, the enclosed arrangement of shelves, stocked with variations of candy, gave it more of cozy feel to it. The colorful rappers and packaging made it out to be whimsical and created the illusion of Willy Wonka's Chocolate factory. Somehow even with all the colors, the shop made me think of the color yellow, as if that made sense.
Walking through the narrow aisles, searching for something I could chew on later on the flight. I had already made my way through half of what they stocked, hands still empty, I swear I just passed a pair of beat up tennis shoes, but chose to ignore it and I came across a rainbow lollipop that spiraled flat onto a stick, I love those little suckers! Lifting the biggest one out from the shelf and turning around to pay, than came to an abrupt halt.
Where the hell did my lollipop go?
Looking around for the runaway cavity on a stick, then hearing the distinct crackling of rapper plastic I turned my gaze upwards and… to my complete surprise, saw a boy, maybe a year or two older than me perched up on the shelf in a crouch position, my lollipop held by the tip of the stick between his lanky forefinger and thumb, the clear rapper discarded onto the floor.
At first I couldn't get a word out, his strange presence caught me off guard, watching dumbfounded as he scrutinized the sweet before giving it an immense lick.
"Excuse me?" I said to the strange boy, he turned his gaze to me, his expression blank, "I believe that was mine." I said, feeling really annoyed because of this strange person's behavior.
Then without a word he hopped off of the shelf and landed only a meter away from me, the lollipop's round edge in his mouth, which annoyed me even more as I surveyed his appearance. The lanky form in front of me must really hate outdoors, because his skin was in a neck in neck competition with his white long sleeve shirt which morphed into a simple blue jeans that hung from his skinny hips, no shoes. My gaze than moved to his face and I found myself mesmerized by a pair of onyx orbs that were half hidden by his midnight strands of hair, that looked like they never touched a brush since birth. And his posture! Absolutely terrible.
Without saying a word the stranger took a step closer to me, than another and another and eventually our faces were mere inches apart. This didn't bother me really, I was never a cluster phobic so I didn't see a reason to be one now.
"Terribly sorry." The stranger muttered, lifting his hand to my face, placing his forefinger on the bridge of my thick black framed glasses and pushed them upwards, more secured on my nose.
I swallowed hard, "Thank you." I felt a blush creep into my cheeks, I already had three accidents involving my glasses slipping off my nose and it shattering. The stranger then turned away from me and walked back down the aisle and placed his bare feet in the pair of beat up tennis shoes, no socks required, apparently.
Then turning back, he held the sweet sucker out towards me, his head tilted, "Do you still want this?" he asked in a monotonous, pubic voice that cracked quite distinctly at the end of the question.
I shook my head, "No no, I've changed my mind. You keep it." I replied quite quickly, the thought of swapping spit with this stranger did not bring a smile to my face, no, not even close. So instead I reach for a chocolate bar and he shrugged, licking the lollipop with anticipation. Our eyes locked and we stared at each other far longer than we should have and than I finally break the silence, "What?" now completely irritated.
He replied slightly cocking his head to the side, "Aren't you going to pay?" one hand stuffed in his pocket one holding the stick of the lollipop.
"Aren't you?" I replied, hoping to catch the stranger off guard, but he remained indifferent, striding over to the punk girl with electric blue hair that stood behind the cash register and handed her some money and whispered her something I couldn't quite make out and then he was out the door without a glance back in my direction.
Sighing I stepped up to the cash register and reached for my satchel when the girl with the blue hair stopped me, "No need, that guy you were just talking to paid for yours as well." She said, to my complete amazement.
"Really?" I had to ask, unsure whether I heard her correct or not.
"Err…Yeah…" the girl replied in a slow unsure tone, as if questioning her own hearing.
Surprised and taken aback, I peered through the glass of the door to see if I could spot the strange boy who had paid for my flight snack, but couldn't spot him from inside the shop. "Err…well I guess I'll go then?" I let my words hang in the air, putting the chocolate in my satchel, walking out of the shop, leaving the confused girl and scanned the perimeter for the boy with the oversized wallet. Finally spotting him at an accessory cart, trying on different sunglasses. I stalked over there pulling out some money from the wallet in my satchel, readying it.
"Hey, what's your name?" I asked a few steps away from him, his back facing me. I got no answer, so I continued "You didn't have to pay for my expense. I get along quite fine, thank you." More than fine actually, which is why I never felt comfortable taking other peoples money.
The strange boy turned around to face me; a pair of round red frames concealed his hypnotic gaze, the sucker still in his hand and every so often he would relish in its sugary goodness. "Do you now?" he questioned and without answer I held the money out towards him, expecting him to take it, but with no such luck. "It was quite obvious that your family is well off." Taking the red sunglasses off at this statement, his onyx gaze settling on my face "Your custom Bentley glasses and Marc Jacobs bag, made it quite clear."
Wait…he deduced that I my dad had money? Why would he open his wallet to someone who clearly didn't need it?
"Well, here." I pushed the money towards him, but he only stared at it.
"It's really not a problem." He said, but it only irritated me more, "If it was I wouldn't have done it in the first place." Added as an after thought, sensing my irritation.
"Well…" I began, but seized as his gaze widened in a curious manner, "…um…thank you." I said and he gave a short brisk nod and went back to surveying the sunglasses.
"Um…what's your name?" I asked, with genuine interest.
Without turning to face me he replied, "Tom." His croaky voice quite prominent now.
"Nice to meet you, Tom. I'm Peyton." I said politely, Tom now taking quite an interest in a pair of aviators, which suit him quite well actually, but placed them back on the rack after a thorough inspection and turning to face me. He mouthed my name, bringing his thumb to his lips all while staring wide eyed at the ground.
His gaze lifted a bit higher, but not by much then said "That's an interesting book you're reading there." I traced his gaze to my satchel, which had the spine of The Psychology of Proof: Deductive Reasoning in Human Thinking peaking out of the unzipped slit.
"Yeah, it's actually really good." I said, blushing a bit, feeling embarrassed that my weird obsession was now out in the open.
"You like solving puzzles?" he asked, I wasn't sure if he was genuinely interested or wanted to avoid an awkward silence, due to his indifference to the subject.
"Yeah, I do." I said rather defensively.
"Interesting." Tom replied in deep thought.
"Peyton?" I turned around to see my dad taking long quick strides in our direction, "Peyton, why aren't you answering your cell phone, I've been calling you for the past…" my dad stopped mid sentence, spotting the strange silhouette that was Tom and eyed him curiously, "Oh…Peyton who is this?" his voice laced with obvious dissatisfaction at the thought of his only teenage daughter talking to a strange teenage boy, or any boy for that matter.
"Dad this is Tom." I said in a rushed breath, not sure how my dad would react, "Tom this is my dad, Richard Shire." There were a few seconds of stony silence between the two males, my dad scrutinizing Tom's strange appearance.
"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Shire." Tom said, breaking the silence.
"Peyton, our flight leaves in eight minutes," turning his attention back to me, "…we have to go now." He said, stepping aside to let me walk pass him.
"Err…okay, dad." I reply quite awkwardly, taking a few steps than turning to face Tom, "Do you have an email address? I can give you mine? We could…" I withheld my last few words, sensing my dad's disapproval, Tom staring at me with his wide gaze, I noticed a nervous twitch that was so small it could have been non existent.
"I'm afraid that won't be possible." He stated slowly.
"Oh…" my face fell, but my dad's seemed to brighten up a bit, which made me wonder if it wasn't my dad's sudden presence that caused a shift in Tom's behavior, "…That's okay." I said and turn to walk away, "Bye, Tom." I said waving goodbye to him over my shoulder. If he reacted in anyway, I didn't see it, mostly because my dad was rushing me along to get to our flight and partially because I was a little disappointed that he had denied me his contact info. It was nice just talking to someone close to my age, I didn't have any friends because of all the travelling and even when we weren't I was homeschooled, so by now I was a really shy thirteen-year-old girl who loved to read and never socialized with anyone.
My dad and I were now in an airplane, three hundred and fifty thousand feet above sea level on our way to America. We flew business class and I was staring blankly out the window. Tom almost completely forgotten.