I know i have another fic on here. But this idea wouldn't leave my crazy head. So I decided to start writing it. Tell me what you think?
Naomi
I hate flying. I hate airports. They're so busy. With people fucking pushing you, running you over with their roller bags, or some fucking businessman treating you like an idiot when you politely ask him if he knows where your gate is. Fucking tosser.
And what's worse is that my Mother decided to drop me off way too early for my flight, because she had to go to a community meeting. Her and her fucking community loving. After all communal living is the way these days. I should know. I live with at least ten other people. Christ, what's the bet good old Gina lends out my room while I'm gone?
Speaking of being gone. Did I mention that I hate flying? Well I also hate the place I'm going to. Yes, hate is a strong word. But I fucking hate it. My mother decided that it would be a good idea for me to see my Father. For the first time in eight years. I was seven the last time I saw him. And that was purely on accident, when Gina decided to stop in at my Nana's and he happened to be there.
So good old Gina decided she would organize this little holiday for me, before I started College. Well thanks Mum; this could be like the best graduation present ever. Not.
Why do I have to go see him anyway? He's a fucking tit. It's not like he ever wanted me. He just agreed because Nana told him to stop being a prick. That I'm his first-born and something about how my siblings should get to spend time with me. Yeah, good old Father has two little terrors to his surgically enhanced trophy wife. That technically means I have a little brother and sister. I've met them once, that time at Nana's. She often talks about them when I go to see her.
It's amazing how much she cares about me. Even if her son, my Father, doesn't give a flying fuck about me, she does. She's the closest person to me. My best friend. Not that I would ever say that aloud, because Effy would most probably have a fit. But I still love Effy.
Finally my flight is called. The airhostess has me sitting at the back of the plane, with the rest of the independent youth fliers. Some little fucker Johnny decides he wants to throw his food everywhere, and I decide I want to punch him in the face. But I hold back my clenched fist. My mother would have a fit, if she got a call saying a punched an eight year old in the face. Come to think of it, her reaction would be priceless.
The flight takes for fucking ever! And after three cans of coke, little Johnny's energy boosts deflates and he knocks himself out. Thank fucking Christ.
Eventually we land, and I thank God that I didn't end up on the six o'clock news, with the pane crashing. Hey, I told you I hate flying. Yes, stone cold Naomi Campbell is afraid of flying. Well fuck you. It's scary as fuck.
So I roam the airport, grab my bags, and head for the arrival gate. The doors open, and I scan the crazy faces staring at me as I walk out. There's a bunch of Taxi drivers or chauffeurs standing with their signs, waiting for their passengers. It wouldn't surprise me if good old Dad had sent a cab, instead of picking me up like he said he would.
But he's nowhere in sight. Nor is his bimbo wife Christina, or the little shithead children of theirs. Figures, he's late. Wonder if he'll even show up. Asshole probably forgot. I decide to turn my phone on, and wonder off to a chair to wait. A couple of messages come through.
One from my mother
Hope you had a safe flight. Text me when you land. Love you, Mummy. xx
Another from Effy
Hey whore. Pandas drving me up the wall alrdy. I luv the girl, bt I miss you. Come bak! Hpe you hve fun. Txt me when you get there. I knw you will. Luv ya x oh n Panda says Hi. ; )
I laugh, picturing Effy banging her head against the wall. Two weeks with Panda, that is….intense.
There are two more messages on my phone. One from Cook.
Babes! Hpe u hve fun wit ur ol man yeah? Txt me whn u get thr. Mis u Naomikins! X
Good old Cook. He's revolting and crude, but he's Cook. And he treats me like a princess at times. We've been best friends since we were born. Our mother's went to school together. And when Cook's Mum threw him out, Gina took him in. She treats him like her own. It's what Cook needs. A family.
The last message is from my Dad. Fucking Dave.
Sorry kiddo. Running a bit late. Be there in half hour.
Great. Just fucking great. How did I not see this one coming?
So now, here I am, bored out of my fucking brains, and dreading every second of this two-week trip. I spot a bookstore. Why not check it out, beats sitting round looking like a total weirdo.
I head for the mystery section. I like to read okay. I'm a borderline nerd, who hangs out with the school rebels. Go figure.
I round the section, to find a girl with piercing, vibrant red hair, covering her face and delved into Nicholas Sparks' 'The Last Song', which makes me question why the hell she's sitting in the mystery section reading such a gut wrenching romance.
"Nice." I laugh at her sitting on the floor. Who does that? Okay I do that. But not in an airport where clearly, people are bound to see you.
"You like Nicholas Sparks?" She asks, turning her head up with a smile. Holy shit, Naomi, get a grip! Fuck me. She gorgeous.
"Shit no!" The words escape my mouth faster than I would have liked. She rolls her eyes at me. Did she just roll her eyes at me? Bitch.
"Another smut hater. Great." She goes back to her book, and completely ignores me. This frustrates me a lot. Usually I'm ignoring people. But she's ignoring me. What the hell did I do?
"How can you actually read that? It's full of sap, and shitty romantic drama. Where's the excitement? Thrill?" I ask, and she turns back with a smirk. This girl is so hot and cold.
"So you've read it?" She asks, all of a sudden inquisitive. I straighten up a bit.
"Well…no. But they're so predictable." I say, wavering off her slight amusement at the fact that I might have read such a shit book.
But she goes back to ignoring me again, "Unlike your mysteries right?" She says, her eyes focused on the book in her hands. Her hands. Her petite little hands. Her fingers. They're so elegant, so smooth, so tasty…tasty? What the fuck?
I feel a lump form in my throat, "How do you know what I'm into?" I ask, suddenly defensive, that she knows something about me. And I know nothing about her. Just that she likes crappy romance novels.
She looks up, furrowing her brows at me, "Ah. We are in the mystery section?" She says obviously. Right. Bitch.
I shake off my embarrassment, and try to act cool. "Well they're better than the crap you're reading." I smirk at her. Clearly I irritate her with my disapproval of her tastes.
"Emily! Hurry the fuck up! The taxi's here, Mum's going off her fucking nut trying to find James, the little shit! I knew you'd be in here. You're such a geek. Let's go, grab your shit!"
Emily. Her names Emily. Beautiful, sexy, smart Emily. Okay I admitted she's smart. Because clearly she is. That is two things I now know. That this beautiful, redhead's name is Emily, and she likes crappy romance Novels. Wait, make that three things. She also has, what looks like a sluttier and demanding twin sister. Oh and to quote her sister, a little shit of a brother, James.
Emily stands up and hands me the book, with a smirk, "Maybe you should try something new."
I'm awe struck. Her voice was so husky, so warm. She was so close that I could actually feel the burn that radiated from her skin.
I don't do romance." I try to act cool turning to watch her walk off.
She turns back with a smile, "Maybe you should start." She winks, and goes off after her sister.
There is going to be one thing on my mind this holiday, Red.
Review time? ; )
