Sometimes Things End Right
Chapter 1
Annabeth
My suitcase wobbled behind me as I hurried through the airport. My cup of Dr. Pepper shook in my hand as I quickly dodged the people around me. My ice had melted a while ago, and honestly, I don't even know why I still held the room-temperature cup of soda; probably because it had cost so much. My cellphone was in between my cup and my hand, and my head whipped back and forth wildly, looking for which signs I was supposed to follow for my boarding gate.
"Hey, watch it," An older man grumbled at me as I swerved around him and his elderly wife. I muttered an apology and continued forward, keeping my eyes out for the correct boarding gate.
My gate came quicker than I anticipated. There was a long line of people, and my eyes were still roaming the signs hanging from the ceiling. I didn't even see the line of people.
And just with my luck, my piece of crap suitcase rolled onto its side as soon as I ran into somebody in line. The wheel must have popped off on contact, too, because my suitcase made a loud thump, and the whole thing skidded. I tried to move quickly, but of course I spilled the cup of lukewarm soda.
I bit my lip and tried my absolute hardest not to scream in frustration. The line of people I had run into was a flurry of groaning faces, annoyed eye rolls, and just movement. I scrambled to collect my cell phone and my luggage while random hands reached all around me to help pick up my scattered possessions.
"I am so sorry," I muttered, dabbing my shirttail at my drenched phone. I really, really wanted to scream. I clicked the home button on my phone hoping it would turn on, but even my own phone wasn't on my side.
It seemed like nothing was on my side today.
"-soda everywhere," A voice above me was growling. I grabbed my boarding pass from the ground and stood up, swiping at my knees.
My first thought was that the voice was right. There was soda everywhere. The floor was covered in puddles of Dr. Pepper, and at least three people were covered in soda. One woman was shaking her head and walking towards the bathroom, a little girl with splashes of soda was being pulled to the side by her mother, and a guy still stood above me, grumbling into his phone about his shirt being ruined by soda.
My second thought was just how gorgeous the guy standing in front of me was. He was tall, stood above me, and wore a plain gray t-shirt with a giant splash of Dr. Pepper on the front of it. His hair was dark, almost black, and he had on black sweatpants with another giant splash of soda to match the one on his shirt. When I finally made eye contact with him, he looked absolutely pissed.
"Look, I have to go," He snapped into his phone while still staring right at me, "I'll call you when we land."
The guy didn't even wait for whoever was on the phone to reply. He ended the call and shoved his phone into his sweatpants' pocket and turned his attention to his soaked shirt.
"I'm so sorry," I said, turning my phone in my hand. "My suitcase's wheel popped off, and I ran into the line-,"
"Yeah, I was there," He snorted. He shook his head and pulled at his shirt's wet spot and groaned. "I need to change. I can't get on the flight like this."
"I'm really sorry," I apologized again. Probably because I didn't know what else to say to the guy. He was gorgeous, and though my accident hadn't put any damper on his looks, I still had nothing else to say to him. "It was an accident."
His head snapped up from looking down at his shirt to make eye contact with me again. His eyes were super green, and framed by dark lashes. His eyebrows came together in thought as he looked at me. He gave me a weird look for a moment, and I stood there awkwardly.
I felt so weird. I didn't know what to say. I was at a loss for words; I was in an airport I wasn't used to, I had spilled soda everywhere, and I was dealing with a guy I had never met before. On top of all of this, the insanely attractive guy was coming off as a jerk.
"Look, just… don't worry about it," He sighed. "I'm going to change, and you're going to pick up your stuff before it all gets trampled, and then we'll both go on our way and forget about it."
His words probably should have been a comfort, or should have been some kind of relief, because at least he wanted to forget about it and at least he didn't want to, I don't know, sue me or something, but it wasn't a comfort or a relief. I felt even more awkward, and my face was even more hot than before. I felt my ears grow warmer, and I'm sure my cheeks were blood red. I bit my lip and nodded, though, because though I was getting agitated with him, I would rather have let it go than continue to apologize over and over to this guy who was a 80% jerk and a 20% insanely attractive model sent from the goddess Aphrodite to bless whoever looked at him.
And I'm not even exaggerating. This guy had gorgeous eyes, a breathtaking jawline, and the kind of 5-o'clock shadow that would leave a girl panting for fresh air. I had only seen guys like him, guys with broad shoulders, muscular arms, and a lean build on movies, or in magazines. This guy was gorgeous. Even his voice was attractive; it was deep and kind of scratchy, but in the good way. His mouth rested into a smirk, and his deep green eyes seemed to analyze me through and through.
He was overly attractive. Like, he probably shouldn't have even been allowed in public just because he probably drove some ladies mad.
Briefly I wondered what his parents looked like. His mother had to be some kind of beautiful angel to have birthed somebody like him… and his father! His father had to be somebody stunning, too. My brain continued to wander until I realized the guy was backing away and giving me another weird look.
Realizing I had completely zoned out while he was talking to me, I flushed even more. He turned around completely and headed towards the men's room, leaving me to pick up the rest of my things I had dropped in my haste to pick everything up- my carry-on backpack, the broken wheel to my suitcase, and the cup that had held my soda. The people around me that had not been in the splash zone were over my accident by now, and were talking amongst themselves like I wasn't even there anymore.
I had to carry my suitcase to the back of the line of the boarding gate because since the wheel had popped off, the suitcase thumped around even more and the screw that had held the whole thing together scraped across the ground. I groaned and made my way to the back, balancing my useless phone under my arm while holding my suitcase up with my arms.
Thankfully the line started moving around the time I finally made it to the back of the line. The woman with her child that I had splashed was back in line, and seemed to forget all about the accident. Her child babbled to who must have been the father, and the woman who had walked away shaking her head was handing her boarding pass over to the man scanning tickets at the front of the line. I craned my neck to look for the Absolutely Gorgeous Guy, but I couldn't spot him.
The line moved forward and I struggled with my suitcase, but I didn't expect anybody to help. I was in the great airport of Huston, Texas, and everybody seemed to be minding their own business. The people in line were all headed to Los Angeles, and unlike my home in Mississippi, nobody cared if you were a small-ish female holding a giant, broken suitcase. Nobody seemed to be as hospitable as Mississippi, especially the too-busy passengers around me.
When I finally made it to the front of the line, I handed the attendant my boarding pass while trying my hardest to balance the suitcase in my arms. This didn't faze him, either. The guy gave me a board wave of his hand and sent me towards the long hallway leading to the airplane. I rolled my eyes and followed the bustling passengers in front of me.
By the time I made it to my seat I had momentarily forgotten about Absolutely Gorgeous Guy. I knew I was in seat 21AA, next to the window. My broken suitcase slid perfectly into the overhead compartment, and I seemed to be able to finally breathe when I sat down in my seat. I even did the over-dramatic eye close and sigh.
My relief didn't last long, though. Since the day hadn't been hectic and crazy enough, it seemed, it needed to be a little more dramatic.
I say that with the most sarcasm you could ever imagine.
I felt a bag drop next to me, and I peeked one eye open. An older lady with the biggest purse you could ever imagine was standing in the middle of the aisle, staring right at me.
"Excuse me, little lady," She smiled wobbly and held out a boarding pass stub to me, "I think you may have the wrong seat. My ticket says seat 21A and you're in my seat."
I took the pass from her wrinkly hand and peered at it. Then, I picked up mine and compared the two. "No, ma'am, this seat is 21AA, and your pass says 21A. That means you're across the aisle."
She frowned and read her ticket again. I squirmed in my seat, uncomfortable again. "My grandson will be here any moment. He'll be able to figure this out for us."
"Wait, ma'am, all you have to do is read it. Your seat is across there-,"
"Sorry, Grandma, I was late getting on because I was stuck in line in the bathroom," I was cut off by the same deep, scratchy voice that had pretty much been imprinted in my brain. "I had to dig through my carry-on just to find this shirt because some idiot dumped their drink on me and my shirt had some kind of sticky crap all over it…"
My mouth fell open as the guy trailed off, finally noticing me sitting in the row of seats. His eyebrows furrowed like before, and he crossed his arms over his chest. He had changed into a black t-shirt with a pocket on the chest, and somehow the dark color made him look even more appealing than before. I closed my mouth and glared at him.
"What? Are you here to pour more soda on me?" The guy smirked. I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest, too.
"Okay, first of all, it was an accident," I snapped, "And second, your grandmother seems to be confused. She thinks I stole her seat."
"Why did you steal my grandmother's seat?" He raised an eyebrow at me. I raised my eyebrows back at him, ready to snap back, but he reached forward and took the boarding pass stub out of my hands. I was too surprised by literally everything going on- the grandmother, who had lost interest in our exchange and was now chatting with a woman on the row behind her, Absolutely Gorgeous Guy who had seemingly materialized out of nowhere to accuse me of stealing an old woman's seat and to complain about his shirt again, and the flight attendants that were walking up and down the aisle, shooing everybody to their seats- to even comprehend that he had just snatched the ticket out of my hand.
"This says you are in seat 21AA," Absolutely Gorgeous Guy stated and handed me my ticket back. "We're in 21A and 21BB."
"That's what I said," I nodded, feeling relieved that this was clearing up quicker than the t-shirt and soda ordeal had, "Your grandmother thought that I took her seat-,"
"Now you're accusing my grandmother of stealing your seat?" He raised an eyebrow at me.
Wait, what? I wasn't accusing him of anything.
"What? No! She was just confused-," I began to explain, leaning forward in my seat and using my hands to begin my explanation.
"Look, she's elderly," The guy interrupted and said, looking right in my eyes and smirking, "She gets confused sometimes, just drop it. You don't have to get upset because she got mixed up."
"I'm not upset!" I said, feeling my eyebrows hit the roof. Who was he to accuse me of getting upset?! He was turning the tables now.
"It sounds like you are," He pointed out. He reached for the giant purse the grandmother had plopped onto the seat next to me and handed it to his grandmother who was still chatting behind him. "I mean, it's not like she dumped an extra-large cup of sticky soda on you or anything."
My mouth fell open again. He really just said that.
He really just said that.
"Oh you really want to go there," I narrowed my eyes, ready to let him have it. I was pissed now. He was not only turning tables on me, acting like a jerk about the shirt, but now he was making fun of the situation. I was livid. I was opening my mouth to start snapping back at him when he laughed.
It was a laugh great enough to send tingles to my tummy. It was deep, throaty like his voice, and had my subconscious on her tippy toes and craning her head, using her hand to cup her ear to hear more. His eyes danced with delight, and the green seemed to turn more of a light, sea-ish color.
So you know how some shows and movies have the little devil on one shoulder, and an angel on the other? Yeah, well my subconscious is kind of like that, except my actual brain, the decision-making part and also the main ruler, is more of the "angel." There isn't an actual angel, but more like the Let's-Look-At-The-Logical/Rational-Side-Of-Things, or the That's-Stupid-Let's-Not-Do-That angel. The other part of me, my "devil" subconscious, liked to do stupid stuff and blame it on anybody and everybody else that she could. I liked to think of her as the underdog, because thankfully she didn't get much rule. She was the Oh-Look-There's-A-Squirrel type, or the Act-Now-Apologize-Later type. I liked to think of my "angel" as being my actual conscious, and my "devil" as being just the subconscious, with a major emphasis on sub.
Right now my subconscious, the traitorous bitch that she was, was holding a notebook and trying to make a list of ways to make him laugh, just to hear it all over again.
"Chill," He told me, sliding into the seat next to me. "It was a joke."
I realized he planned on sitting there next to me. "What are you doing?" I asked as he messed with the seatbelt.
I mean, it was obvious what he was doing, but still. He was buckling up. He had said that his seats were 21A and 21BB. That meant that somebody- his grandmother- got the seat next to the window on the opposite side of me, and somebody- obviously, him- got the seat next to me. What prompted him to be the one to take 21BB, I don't know, but it made my subconscious happy. She was sitting pretty in her own airplane seat, her legs crossed and batting her eyes.
"I mean, I'm not milking cows, am I?" He smirked, "I'm taking my seat. Why? What are you doing?"
"Not sitting by you, that's what I'm not doing," I snapped, "Why do you even want to sit by me, anyways? Don't you hate me?"
I mean, he acted like he did, anyway.
"Why would I hate you?" He chuckled. My subconscious giggled back at him and batted her eyelashes even more. "It was just a drink, and it's just a seat. It was just a misunderstanding."
"Okay, but you told your grandma that 'some idiot,' AKA me, spilled a drink on you. That kind of lead me to believe that you hated me. Then you made a big deal about me 'stealing from your grandma,' even though I didn't... Oh! And you were a total jerk about your shirt earlier." I babbled, crossing my legs and crossing my arms over my chest tighter. "That's why you would hate me."
"You're so over-dramatic," He muttered, shaking his head and rubbing his temples with his fingertips. "I was joking about the seat, and I don't really care about the shirt. It was an accident."
"Then why were you a jerk about it at first?" I hissed as the flight attendants walked up and down the aisle explaining directions and exits and whatever. "You didn't have to be a jerk."
"I was pissed at first," Absolutely Gorgeous Guy rolled his eyes at me. I stared back at him, wondering momentarily how they could get so green. My conscious wanted to know the genetic part of him, and what it took to get eyes that green. She had a blackboard up and was working out Punnet Squares, her hair pulled back with two pencils instead of clips, and her glasses pushed up onto her nose. My subconscious was still sitting pretty, giving Absolutely Gorgeous Guy 100% of her attention. "I was pissed, but I mean, who wouldn't be? We were in a crazy busy airport- like, the second most busiest airport in the United States- and you ran into me. I was on the phone with my girlfriend who wasn't in the greatest mood, and I didn't exactly have time to go and change before boarding. It was just a reaction. Everything is okay, now, though, and I'm sorry for being a jerk."
So, two things were going through my mind as he talked:
My subconscious was checking him out as he spoke (holy crap, his lips were practically sculpted by the gods of Olympus) and she had decided that she was most definitely going to have any and all of his babies if he ever asked. Also: did he just say girlfriend?!
My conscious was calculating if he was lying and if he was, what was he up to? Why would he suddenly decide to stop being a jerk and start being nice about it all? I mean, I guess he did have a point; I'd probably be pissed, too. But what made him realize he needed to get over himself? I totally understood why he'd be mad, and I guess why he'd act like a jerk about it, but was he being nice now because he was a nice guy or was he being nice because I called him out on it?
"Yeah, I guess," I said carefully, uncrossing my arms. I guess there was no need to be so defensive anymore. I was probably overreacting, anyway.
My mind wandered to my mother, who always insisted that I overreacted. Oddly enough, though, everybody said we were just alike.
I slapped my forehead and groaned. "Oh, crap!" I moaned, reaching for my useless, sticky cellphone. Absolutely Gorgeous Guy quirked an eyebrow at me in question. "I was supposed to call my mom when I got to the gate," I explained.
That never happened, though, because I had run into the line, and my wheel had popped off, and my drink had spilt everywhere…
"I'd say do it now but we aren't supposed to use electronics," He shrugged, "Just call her when you get off the plane."
"I was supposed to call her at the gate so she could call my dad for me," I muttered, "To tell him when I was landing and whatever."
"Why couldn't you call him yourself?" The guy asked, pulling out his own phone from his sweatpants pocket. He still wore the same sweatpants he had on earlier, but it looked like he had dabbed at the soda spot enough that it had almost disappeared. I had to look away, though, because I was staring at the spot for too long, and I was worried it would look like I was staring at his crotch.
My subconscious winked.
"Why couldn't I call my dad?" I snorted, "That's a complicated story."
"I mean," Absolutely Gorgeous Guy looked around the plane, "We aren't going anywhere for a little bit."
He was right. Our flight was about three hours and forty five minutes. We had plenty of time for me to explain my complicated story about my father.
Still, it felt like it would take ages to explain what was going on in my family.
And on top of all of this, I barely knew the guy. Heck, I didn't even know the guy's name!
"I don't even know you," I argued, but my argument was pretty weak. If we were being honest, I would probably tell this guy anything. I was so attracted to him that if he told me to jump off this plane with him, I probably would.
Okay, I probably wouldn't, but I would probably consider it.
My subconscious would consider it. She was already thinking about running away with him to Vegas or something while my conscious rolled her eyes.
"I don't know about you, but if it were me that would be just another reason to talk about it," Absolutely Gorgeous Guy said. "You'll never see me again. Why not just vent about whatever it is?"
"I don't know," I shrugged. "Even if I wanted to I wouldn't know where to start."
"Okay…" He trailed off, looking thoughtful. "How about you start with where you're going and why?"
"Oh," I sighed, "I guess that answer is easy… even though it's kind of complicated…"
He rolled his eyes at me. "It doesn't have to be complicated."
"But it is," I argued, "You don't even get it."
"Then tell me," He offered, "I'll listen."
I looked at him and thought. The guy was laid back, it seemed. It seemed like I could really tell him anything- and it was a weird feeling. My subconscious was yanking out her giant, dictionary-sized book of problems, settling herself into her comfortable armchair, and was preparing herself to read out loud. Meanwhile, my conscious was shaking her head and mouthing NO.
I sighed and yanked on one of my curls that had fallen from my ponytail. What would I even tell this guy? I guess he was right, I would never see him again...
"How about you tell me about your girlfriend," I stalled, "Why wasn't she in a good mood? Was she pissed at you for something?"
Absolutely Gorgeous Guy was surprised. His eyes widened for a moment before he smirked at me. "That kind of took me off guard. Why do you want to know about my girlfriend?"
I shrugged. "Why do you want to know about my dad?"
"Touché," He laughed. My tummy tingled at his laugh again, and I felt my lips turn up softly. His laugh made me want to smile. "Okay. So if I tell you about her, will you tell me about him?"
"Yeah," I nodded. I would probably tell him whatever he wanted to know.
My conscious snorted and shook her head at me. She thought I was pathetic.
"So… my girlfriend. If you even wanna call her that," He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms behind his head. I looked over his shoulder and noticed his grandmother was asleep in her chair beside the window. "We haven't been having the greatest time."
"Oh, really?" I asked. Who wouldn't be having the greatest time with him? He was gorgeous. And he seemed to be kind of genuine… though he did act like a jerk when he was pissed off. I wondered if he was somebody different with whoever she was.
"We're on and off a lot," Absolutely Gorgeous Guy explained, "Every time we're off we want to be back on, and every time we're on we want to be off. It's confusing and it's like whiplash, you know? I never know what she wants or what she means."
"Why don't you work out when you're together?" I asked. I really wanted to know. I was kind of interested, and my subconscious was wondering if she could take over for the mystery girlfriend.
"The first time we were together it was great. We were like best friends. It was easy to talk to her, and we connected, you know?" He said, "We were together for about two years. She was there for me when my grandfather died, and I was there for her throughout her parent's divorce. We worked well together, both physically and mentally."
"Then what happened?" I asked, "If everything was going well what made it stop?"
"She cheated on me," Absolutely Gorgeous Guy answered bitterly and with a frown. "I got really busy with work and whatever and I guess I kind of grew apart from her. It was hard to keep up a relationship over text; she was working in Los Angeles and I was working in other states like New York. She says she got lonely, but I don't know. If you love somebody you don't think about somebody else, right?"
I nodded quietly. "My dad cheated on my mom."
"Ouch," He muttered. "That's rough."
"My parents don't know that I know," I sighed, getting comfortable in my chair. "They think that I think they fell out of love and just divorced. When it happened I was like in the eighth grade, and that's what they told me, anyway. I found out because I overheard their conversation late one night or whatever. My dad moved off with his mistress and they have their own family now."
"Is that why you're going to Los Angeles?" He asked, "To see your dad and his family?"
"Yeah," I nodded, "To see my dad and his new family. He's finally marrying the mistress, I think. He hasn't come right out and said it yet but that's what it looks like, anyway."
I wasn't telling the guy the whole truth, but I didn't feel like I had to. I mean, my story pretty much summed up how I felt about everything. I didn't need to dive into deeper, hurtful details. I swallowed and looked up into the guy's eyes.
"That sucks," The guy said. "My girlfriend was sort of going through the same thing, but I think the story was a lot different."
"Yeah, well, your girlfriend is a bitch for cheating on you," I muttered, "Just because you moved away…"
"Yeah, well, right now we're off," He said, "We got into it a couple of weeks ago because she did some stupid crap."
"And you're going to take her back?" I asked him. "Why? If you just said it never works why do you keep trying?"
"I don't know," He shrugged. "I like to think that sometimes things end right, you know? Not everything has to end badly. I don't like the idea of fighting with her and then just leaving it at that. She was my best friend at one point, you know? She was my first everything."
I nodded, but I guess I couldn't understand him 100%. I had never had somebody be my first everything. I decided I would tell him this; I mean, we were already sharing personal things and I felt like he was waiting for me to take my turn.
"I've never had a first 'everything,'" I said, "I mean, I've had a first boyfriend or whatever, a first date, and a first kiss and all of that, but it wasn't with the same guy. I never really had a guy stick around long enough for all of that."
He looked at me quietly with another weird look on his face. Almost like he was thinking something, or he couldn't remember something… like he couldn't grasp what he was thinking…
"She was my first girlfriend, prom date, and all of that," He said. "We met when I was like nineteen. She was still in high school, and I was homeschooled as a kid so I never went to prom. I got to go with her."
"That's crazy," I said with a tiny smile. "You dated her after that?"
"Yeah," He nodded, "We saw each other for a little while but she became my official girlfriend at the age of twenty. We dated for two years and we've done this weird off and on thing for about a year now."
That was a long freaking time to try and try again on a relationship. I admired his commitment and his relentless dedication to her, even if he was off and on all the time.
"And you guys still haven't figured it out," I said, "That's kind of weird, don't you think?"
"I guess," He said. "I don't know. Sometimes I wonder if it's worth it. I mean, I want things to end right, but I also don't know if I even want to try anymore. It seems like no matter how many times we try again, there's always some kind of mistrust and hurt involved. She hurt me when she cheated on me, and ever since it has felt like she's only being nice to me because she's trying to make up for that. Then there are times where I get so annoyed with her that I can't even think straight. That's usually about the time we call it off."
"Have you ever thought about quitting completely?" I asked him.
"Sometimes I think about it," He answered, looking at me. Our eyes connected and I felt my tummy tingle again. My subconscious was fanning herself with a little fan and pursing her lips as if she was waiting for a kiss. My conscious was nowhere to be found. "I think about leaving her and starting over with somebody new."
Somebody new? My eyes flicked to his beautifully sculpted lips. Suddenly we felt so close. I could see more details of his face; his eyebrows were almost on the bushy side, he had a few freckles across his nose, and his eyes were so green it was like they reflected the ocean. His cheekbones were just as perfectly sculpted as his lips were, and the eyelashes framing his beautiful green eyes were thick and black.
I had never noticed so many details about somebody before. My subconscious was jotting down as many details about this guy as possible in her diary, trying her hardest to memorize every detail about this beautiful man. This was probably the last time I would be this close to somebody this gorgeous…
I studied his freckles, and the way they splayed across the bridge of his nose, like he had spent time in the sun. His skin was tan, he smelled kind of like sunshine and soap, a hint of something I couldn't really tell, and his breath was hot, tingling…
It was almost like I wasn't paying attention, but I really was. I was paying way too much attention, if that was possible. I was watching him, and before I even knew it, his breath was fanning over me, and his perfectly sculpted lips were on mine.
And it was kind of a surprise, because like I said, it was almost like I wasn't paying attention. His lips were kind of questioning, and light, but he moved his hand to touch my face.
I almost didn't react because I was so surprised. Just when I pursed my lips to kiss him back, though, he pulled away.
My subconscious was pissed. She stomped her foot and crossed her arms across her chest and growled angrily.
"What?" I touched my fingertips to my lips. Despite my subconscious batting her eyes and prepping herself for another kiss, I was still puzzled. My conscious was nowhere to be found.
"What?" He replied, leaning back in his seat. He no longer looked cool and calm, he looked a little off…
"Why did you kiss me?" I asked, rubbing my lips a little harder.
Did that just happen?
"I'm sorry," He breathed, closing his eyes. "I shouldn't have. I mean we were just getting really personal, and you were there, and I guess it was just a comfort from what we were talking about…"
I narrowed my eyes, wondering where my conscious was. She'd have something to say about this. She'd see the logical part of this.
He had a girlfriend. He was just telling me about her. They had history.
But that wasn't stopping my subconscious from trying to hop into this guy's lap and straddle him.
It also didn't stop me from leaning forward and kissing him again.
I placed one hand on his chest and one hand behind his neck and pressed my lips to his.
The difference between this kiss and the last one was surreal. The first kiss wasn't planned, was swift and light, and it was almost barely there. The second one, though…
It was hot.
I felt his lips press back on mine, and the pressure was perfectly even between us. I was actually feeling him this time; the first time I hadn't kissed back before it was over. The second time, though, we were evenly matched and kissing at the same pace.
And it was awesome. His hand came up to play with the ends of my ponytail, and then he pulled me closer by splaying his hand across my lower back.
I was coming out of my seat just to get closer. It was like he was intoxicating! His breath was warm, but not the nasty kind of warm that I had experienced with my first kiss in high school.
And when he sighed into the kiss! It was like my knees were weak. When he sighed, his mouth sort of opened into the kiss, and I could taste him.
It was even greater than before. He tasted kind of sugary, like he had eaten something sweet. My tongue inched out, curious, and swept across his bottom lip.
He seemed to like that because he made a little noise, almost like he was groaning. It was the hottest sound I had ever heard.
It made me want more. Our lips moved in sync, and it was so easy to just move my fingers into his dark hair. His hair curled a little around his ears and at the nape of his neck, and it was just so easy to play with the little locks.
And he liked that, too. He groaned again, making the same sound as before, and making my tummy tingle again. My subconscious was loving it, and was adding playing with hair to her list of things to do over and over again, right under making him laugh.
When he groaned, he pulled my closer, moving his hand up and down my spine. I curled my fingers in his hair and angled my head, kissing him deeper. We moved in sync, quietly kissing. It was wonderful, and I had never felt somebody kiss me so well before.
When I was fourteen I had my first kiss. I kissed a guy who took me to the homecoming dance, and the very next day he told me he didn't like me "like that." I was crushed, of course. I thought that because we had kissed, we were supposed to be boyfriend and girlfriend or whatever. I was wrong.
When I was fifteen I had my first boyfriend. We kissed a lot, and we did all the couple-y stuff, but he had never kissed me the way Absolutely Gorgeous Guy was kissing me.
I heard the squealing of the cart, but I guess I didn't really put two-and-two together. I didn't realize the flight attendant was coming closer. I mean, my subconscious was too caught up in Absolutely Gorgeous Guy, and my conscious was nowhere to be found. I was 100% engaged in this guy, and I never noticed the flight attendant until she was standing right in front of us.
And she cleared her throat loudly to get our attention. The guy jerked back, and I did pretty much the same. Immediately I felt my face grow hot and my eyes grow wide. The flight attendant did not look happy.
Absolutely Gorgeous Guy, though, was smirking and biting his lip to keep from laughing.
"I am so sorry," I blurted, shaking my head and covering my mouth with my hand.
The flight attendant rolled her eyes and didn't even bother to offer drinks to either of us before rolling down the aisle, shaking her head.
As soon as she was out of earshot, I turned to Absolutely Gorgeous Guy. As soon as we made eye contact we both started laughing.
"Oh my gosh," I giggled, leaning over with laughter. "I can't believe that just-,"
"-happened." He nodded, his eyebrows drawn together and a huge smile on his face. "I can honestly say that has never happened to me before."
"That was so awkward!" I said, turning around and peeking over my seat for the flight attendant.
"Well, we should be landing soon, so I guess we don't have to worry about it for long. We won't ever see her again." He smirked.
Suddenly I felt my stomach dip. We would be landing soon, and while it was true that we would never see the flight attendant again, it was also true that I would never see him again.
I frowned. I was suddenly uncomfortable. Why had I kissed him back? Why had he kissed me? He had a girlfriend- granted, their relationship was apparently pretty much dead- and I had a new life I was beginning with my father and his family. I would never see this guy again.
And for some reason it made me incredibly sad.
He was somebody special, I could tell. He was special enough to make my conscious go missing, and special enough to hold my attention. He was gorgeous, and he was easy to talk to. He even made me want to tell him my whole family story, which wasn't something I told everybody.
I felt my eyes and nose start to burn and I bit my lip to keep my eyes from tearing up. I would be pissed if I actually cried over this. I didn't even know the guy's name and I was getting emotional about not ever seeing him again! How ridiculous!
But it wasn't ridiculous. I guess I was more sad that I had met somebody I could just tell was totally special and I would never see him again. I was sad because I knew I would never meet anybody like him again.
"What's your name?" I managed to ask him without letting my throat sound all croaky and choked up. "I don't even know your name."
I wasn't looking at him when I asked him. I was still feeling my nose burning, and my throat felt really tight. The pilot then came over the speaker and announced that we would be landing soon, and then gave small landing details. Once the pilot was done, I felt my throat go even tighter, if possible, and my eyes actually began to water.
"Percy," He replied evenly.
Percy. It was a name that at first didn't look like it suited him, but the more I thought about it, the more it did. He looked like a guy that would have a name like that. It wasn't a very common name, but he definitely looked like he owned it. After thinking about it for a few more silent moments, I deicided I couldn't imagine Absolutely Gorgeous Guy with any other name.
I could tell he was looking at me, because I could just feel it, but I didn't look back at him. I didn't want him to know I was upset.
But, of course, since he was perfect, he could sense it. He put a hand on my knee and rubbed it softly. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," I whispered, "I don't even know why I'm sad. I mean, I don't even know you."
He didn't answer. He just rubbed my knee until I looked at him.
When we made eye contact I reached up and wiped at my eyes. Thankfully I wasn't crying, and no tears had fallen, but the water that had filled my eyes was making everything a little blurry.
"I kind of feel sad, too, if it makes you feel any better." He admitted. "I have never felt like I could talk to somebody so easily before."
"I think that's why I'm so sad," I told him, "Because I have never been able to open up to somebody like I've been able to with you."
"Yeah…" He said thoughtfully. I took a deep breath and looked away from him.
"I swear I'm not even usually this emotional." I blabbered, "I guess it's just because I'm going to go meet my dad or whatever-,"
I was cut off by Percy pressing his lips to the top of my hair. "Stop worrying so much about it."
I turned to him and raised my eyebrows. "It's kinda hard not to…"
"Look, I don't know your dad or your family or anything, but I'm sure it is all going to be fine," He raised his hand from my knee and rubbed the back of his neck. "You're a really cool person, and to me it sounds like you're really strong. I think you can handle this."
"Well, thanks," I blushed. I tried to smile at him to show him my appreciation. "Thanks for… um… distracting me from it all, too."
Percy laughed again, making my tummy tingle once more. I was beginning to really like his laugh. "Well, I mean, it wasn't really planned, but I guess, um… you're welcome."
The plane landed soon after that. Percy kept rubbing my knee the entire time, and we made small talk. We talked about places to eat in Los Angeles, places I had never been to before but places Percy highly recommended. We talked about his grandmother, who was beginning to wake up as the plane tilted towards the ground, and how she was moving to Los Angeles to retire. Percy told me about how he had flown to Texas to get her and was flying with her back because she was scared of planes, but it looked like she had done perfectly fine since she had slept the whole time.
By the time we had landed we were talking about how Percy had planned to build his own home in Los Angeles one day, but for now he was going to buy his first apartment. I told him I was planning to go to a college near my father's house, but I would commute at least until my first semester was over.
We began to file out of the plane and I felt even sadder than I did before. I pushed it away, though, and stopped at the end of the exit gate to tell Percy goodbye.
He stopped and rubbed the back of his neck like he had done before, in the plane. His grandmother continued walking, but since she was older, she wasn't getting very far.
"Goodbye," I said, half-smiling.
He didn't say anything back. He sort of smiled at me, and then reached forward and took my hand. He squeezed lightly, let it fall, and then walked away.
After Percy walked away and was swept into the crowded airport- an airport even bigger than the last one with even more people- I went to retrieve my luggage and find whoever it was picking me up.
It didn't take long to find my father. He had the same curling, blonde hair with grey streaks and the same grey eyes as my own. A part of me hated how much we looked alike. As I walked towards him, carrying my luggage awkwardly since the wheel was still broken, I noticed our similarities. I saw how we had the same forehead, and the same crease in between our eyebrows, like we spent a lot of time analyzing things. I had my mother's eyes, but my father and I shared the same eye shape. Our eyes kind of crinkled, and though my father wasn't old, he had laugh lines and laugh crinkles around his eyes.
I stopped right in front of him, and he smiled wide. "Annie! Hey!" He threw his arms around me and squeezed, rubbing his hands up and down my back. I stiffened, unsure of what to do back. Was I supposed to hug him back?
"I don't really go by Annie," I told him, "It's just Annabeth."
My father pulled away from me and frowned. "I used to call you Annie all the time."
"I was like ten, Dad."
He pursed his lips at me. "Right. Well, can I take your suitcase?"
I let him take my suitcase and I followed after him as he lead me through the airport. I watched him walk and wondered what his family was going to be like.
His family? My family? Weren't both the same?
I knew my father's family consisted of my older sister, a woman he had left my mother for, and two boys I had never met before that belonged to the mistress.
I hadn't seen my sister in years. I was in the seventh grade when she moved with my dad to Los Angeles to pursue a career in acting. She was about seventeen when she left, and I was thirteen. I remember looking up to Mal, and loving absolutely everything she did. She was involved in theatre at school, she was a ballet dancer at the YMCA, and she sang for the school's acapella group along with the school choir. She was pretty much perfect, and had all the traits I ever wanted from our genetic pool.
Mal had long, naturally straight hair, and it was thick and the kind of bleached blonde hair every Malibu girl spent thousands of dollars to get from a salon. I remembered her with the best tan, a natural tone that came from my father's ancestry of Cheyenne Native American blood. She and I shared the same parents, but our features were almost nothing alike. When you put us side by side, you would only be able to tell that we had the same color eyes. They were stormy grey, like our mom's.
Because God didn't think my sister's looks weren't perfect enough, He also blessed her with talents. Like I said, she had done a lot of acting and singing when our family was still whole, but that didn't begin to describe how talented she was. She had done community plays at the local theatre, and somehow she was discovered by an acting agent. The agent convinced my father that Mal had real potential in Hollywood, and that he would sign her if she agreed to move to Los Angeles and audition for his director friend's movie.
So off Mal went, taking my father with her, and leaving my mother and me behind. My sister had been "discovered" in the middle of the school year, and my parents had decided that it was best for me to finish my seventh grade year and then the whole family would be reunited in Los Angeles.
I guess my dad fell for another woman not long after that, though, because we didn't end up moving to Los Angeles.
My father opened the back door to a huge, black suburban for me. I slipped into it, took a seat on the leather and watched as he went around to the back and stuck my suitcase in.
Soon after my sister moved to Los Angeles, she became a hit. She started out in a couple of commercials, and then she began to act in movies and minor TV shows. My hometown blew up with excitement; everybody claimed they were Mal's best friend, and she was suddenly their claim to fame. As she climbed the ladder to success, I grew to be angry at her.
I guess I blamed her for my parent's separation. In my head, I knew that if my father had not moved to Los Angeles for Mal, he would have never met that woman, and my parents would never have divorced or been forced to separate. If Mal hadn't been selfish and insisted that my parents make this work for her, my family would still be whole.
I didn't say anything the entire ride to my father's house. We passed giant houses, tons of palm trees, and several taxis. I watched through the window as the traffic grew heavy, and I wondered if Percy was in any of those vehicles.
When Mal got famous enough to star in her own movie, I never saw it. I avoided watching anything with Mal in it, and I always made it a point to ignore the magazines with her face on them in the check out lines at stores, wanting really hard not to be involved with her. I never read the tabloids, and I never kept up with her. My mom would call her every other day, but they were short, clipped conversations, and I only ever heard one side of them. At first I called Mal, too, and we talked. Then, we kind of… stopped. I hadn't talked to her in forever, and since she never came home for birthdays or holidays, I never saw her, either.
My mom would send her presents and very occasionally go visit, but I never went. I always refused, and never wanted anything to do with her. Call me crazy, but I wanted to forget the sister that forgot me.
Because it was true. She had forgotten me, too. She never tried to contact me, either. It was a two way street, and there were no cars traveling on either side. We never spoke to each other.
Finally my father pulled his suburban into the driveway of a humungous house.
I tried my best to keep my eyes from bulging out of my head.
The place was huge. My father had to put in a code just for the entrance gates to open. The driveway was curling and long, made of giant stones and beautiful mixed rocks. Giant trees were scattered around the equally giant front yard. A gorgeous home built of white brick sat at the end of the winding driveway.
The windows were endless, and I didn't think I had enough time to count all of them. When we finally pulled up into the garage, I noticed at least six vehicles. As I opened my door and unbuckled my seatbelt, I stared at the black mustang we had parked beside. On the other side of the mustang was a big, black Hummer. Down the row of vehicles were cars I couldn't think of a brand name for, but looked expensive. My father took my luggage out of the back and smiled at me wearily.
"So this is home," He said, waving his arm awkwardly around the garage. "If you ever need to borrow a vehicle, just ask… the Hummer belongs to Matthew and the Mustang is Bobby's."
I nodded and followed him to the garage door that lead into the house. As soon as he opened the door, I noticed everything was white. The garage door opened to the kitchen, which had white cabinets, stone and marble floors, grey countertops, and a stunning stainless steel oven top and fridge. I tried my hardest not to gape.
Is this where I would call home? This giant home that clearly suited a famous celebrity, or maybe even the president? I had never even set foot in a place this nice before.
And just when I was begging my mouth not to keep gaping open in its embarrassing fashion, I turned around and noticed my sister sitting at the bar.
Her beautiful blonde hair was piled high on top of her head in a messy bun, she wore glasses, and she rocked a sweatshirt with a small hole near the collar. When we made eye contact, she tilted her head to the side and looked at me questioningly.
"So you really do have the same eyes as me, huh?" Was all she said. I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded awkwardly.
This was going to be a big change.
So I've decided to go ahead and start re-writing and revising this because I've had so many requests for it to be added back to Fanfiction... so tada! Here you go, guys.
I need to know what y'all think of it, though! I am going to do my very best to keep this up and to keep adding to it. For now, though, this is all I have until I get more time to add more. Please stick with me!
What did y'all think of Percy?
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