I had always hated airplanes. So I guess that was probably why I was hating them even more right now, the plane that was taking me away from my friends and sending my sorry ass to New York City in America.
I saw this coming, that's for certain, but that didn't mean I LIKED it. My father had been saying about how it would teach me responsibility and that it would do me some good to be away from my friends, same old parental crap. I still didn't like it. And probably never would, but at least I could go back to Japan after I was finished.
Did I mention I HATE airplanes (well airports too, but you get the idea). Especially ones destined for America. Ever since that terrorist attack they had four years ago, it's a pain in the ass to get on planes destined there. It's even worse when your actually getting on the plane there.
But here I am sadly, sitting in Sky Harbor International Airport in Arizona, waiting for my next plane to come to New York, drinking a Starbucks Coffee to calm my nerves. I am not like Hayato, who smokes to calm his nerves now, I am a caffine addict.
I sighed when I thought of Hayato. He had come to see me off at the airport, after we all had partied the night before, we were supposed to say bye then. But he came to the airport to say bye. Nothing in particular had happened, we just stared at each other for several minutes. There was a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, and he looked like he hadn't slept at all the night before. I probably looked like I hadn't slept either.
He waved slightly as I got on the plane. I waved back. That was it. I wasn't quiet sure what was going to happen then, while I was gone, but I knew I would have Hayato to come back to.