Yeah…..Sorry I haven't been updating my Carlisle story but…yeah. I'll try updating soon. :D Oh, and just a meaningless piece of information, this was originally called Late Flights and Psychos, but then I thought Night Flights sounded cooler. So here we are.

Just my luck, I thought. I get the delayed flight. No, wait. Not the "delayed" flight, the extremely delayed flight. I sighed and took a sip of my cappuccino. Thank God for Starbucks. Laughing slightly, I remembered the taxi ride over to the airport. I'd been pissed at my roommate because I'd thought her extra packing for my trip would make me late for the flight. And, as it turned out, I was half right. After draining the last of my drink, the over head speakers turned on and a woman announced that the red eye flight to Miami would begin boarding in 5 minutes. 5 minutes later, I was standing in line to have my ticket checked. "Yo! Roz!" someone called. Just as I turned around, someone had their arms wrapped around me in a bear hug. "West!" I yelled, holding the 19 year old at arm's length to see him. "Where's Marcel?" I asked.

"Had to use the can."

"Oh…makes sense." We both knew how much Marcel hated plane flights. He must've been pretty stoked about the trip, though, seeing as the whole reason we were all going to Miami was for his sister's (my best friend) wedding. I couldn't wait to see her. "He'd better hurry up." I stated. We were almost at the front of the line. "Don't worry," said West. "He's coming right now." I looked over West's shoulder and saw Marcel's unmistakable brown curls coming our way. "It never fails to astound me how you two can like, sense each other. It's kind of creepy."

"Nah, it's a talent." Said Marcel, walking up from behind West. We hugged and then gave our tickets to the flight attendant. I took a steadying deep breath and began the walk down the long silver walk way too the plane. Plane flights had always terrified me, especially take off. I always imagined that we wouldn't get off the ground in time and we'd crash into a building or something. Marcel squeezed my hand comfortingly. At least I wasn't the only one scared of flying. I heard West snickering at us. Well screw him. We walked down the narrow aisles, dodging a suitcase here and there. Finally, at almost the very back of the plane, we saw our seats. Marcel and West ended up sitting next to each other behind me while I ended up next to an obnoxious guy yelling into a cell phone. I checked my watch, pulling back the silky, black lace sleeve of my cropped sweater. 6 minutes till take off. I stood up, wanting to stretch my legs a bit, and straightened out my ruffled deep purple dress. Damn flats. I could feel blisters forming. I just couldn't believe Nicole had talked me into wearing nice clothes the whole time I was in Miami.

Just as I was about to sit down, I noticed a guy a few seats forward and across the aisle that hadn't been there before. And he was looking at me. My face flushed all the way up to my hairline. He was…what would the correct euphemism be for this…sexy. And oh, those brilliant light blue eyes that seemed to look right into your soul. I took a minute to steady my breath, and looked back up to the strange, extremely handsome man. A part of my mind noticed how this seat gave me a perfect view of him, and the seat next to him. This time, he didn't look at me.

A pale woman with light caramel-brown hair was standing in the aisle next to him. A surge of jealousy ran through me. Why was she looking at him like that? Wow, why did I care? I tried not to pay attention to the pair but found myself glancing up at the guy every once in awhile, longing to see his eyes again, thinking my memory didn't do them justice. I heard the unmistakable sucking noise of the planes door being shut, sealing everyone in, and tried very hard not to hyperventilate. My right arm hung limp over the side of my seat and Marcel held my hand. West seemed to be about to die with laughter at how scared we must have looked. The engines revved up: I shivered. Why the hell couldn't Nicole have had her damn wedding in Washington? She loved torturing me…My jaw tightened as the g-force set in: a cold sweat broke out on my forehead. We're not gonna make it…we're gonna die…Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I was pushed into my seat as the plane lifted off the ground. I took a few shaky breaths, and squeezed Marcel's hand, a signal for him to let go.

My traitorous eyes turned over to the guy with the hot eyes and to my embarrassment, he was turned around, looking at me. I turned red, but for some reason, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't look away. My head started to swim, and I realized I wasn't breathing. I gasped, gulping in air. Once I could think clearly again, I looked up at the guy. Again, he wasn't returning my gaze, but he seemed to laughing to himself about something. Shaking my head in confusion, I turned to the girl beside him. She seemed to be crying. I turned to the back of my seat and stared at it, tracing the patterns of the cloth covers with my eyes. Three words ran through my head: What the hell?

One more thing, in case you hadn't noticed, Marcel and West are the two teenagers from Red Eye, You know, the one guy with the headphones and the little weird pen (whom I've dubbed Marcel) and the guy next to him (you guessed it: he's West!). Anywayz, thanks for reading!!