Stella combed her hair into a long braid and pinned it into a spiraling bun on the top of her head. She sucked in her cheeks and dusted rose colored blush to contour her cream skin. She painted on long black lashes and light pink lips. Tossing her remaining makeup into a plastic bag, Stella left her bathroom and into her main living room.
"Mom," She called impatiently. She waited. Nothing. She loathed that quality her mom held; if you wanted to talk to her, you had to walk to her.
"Are we leaving?" She called again. Her mom came barreling down the stairs, "Yes Yes Yes!" She ushered Stella out the door into their car.
The drive to the airport was filled with tips and 'how to do this and that' in America. Her mother parked at departing flights and smiled to Stella. She reached over and grabbed her tightly, "I'm going to miss you sweat pea." She whispered into her ear, fighting tears. Stella couldn't help but choke up herself.
"I'll be okay mom, I promise." She squeezed her mom back. "I'll be home in a month. Safe and sound. I promise." She held her mom's hand.
"When do I get my replacement teenager?" Her mom teased; Stella unrolled her papers and turned to her mom. "About two hours at gate 3."
Her mom kissed her cheek and Stella got out of the car. She hauled her bag out of the car and waved to her mom. "I love you!" She called and said goodbye again. Luna waved back and slowly drove away.
Stella turned and faced the airport and sighed.
After an hour in security and another half hour searching for her gate, Stella settled into a seat. She suddenly became very aware of another presence. She looked up and smiled. A tall brunette with broad shoulders was looking down at her, "Are you Stella?" He asked in a heavy voice.
She stood up and nodded, "Yes, may I help you with something?" She smiled; he was handsome and had striking features.
His face didn't alter. "My name is Brandon. My sister and you are in the same exchange program. She just left for gate 3. My parents wanted me here to escort you."
She grimaced. He spoke like a robot and his appeal faded. His attractiveness dwindled as he sat two seats away from her and began to fiddle with his phone.
She lifted her laptop case and scooted down a seat.
"So Brandon," She smiled, trying to break tension. He didn't break his gaze from his iPhone.
"What's California like?" She grinned.
"Why would you travel thousands of miles and not have any idea what you're in for? You're pretty unprepared." He grunted.
Stella felt her face turn pink. He was so incredibly nasty and she refused to look stupid. "Why would you think that being rude would get you anywhere in life?" She growled and opened up her book. His eyes snapped up and he turned red from anger, rather than embarrassment.
"Wow, you're reading "The Things They Carried". You must be so deep. Maybe if you spent more time studying, you wouldn't struggle trying to read at a third grade level." He snapped.
Stella trembled. "Actually, if you weren't blind, you would see that it's written in French. My fourth language. So screw off. Or better yet. Chupar una tuerca. Suga en mutter. Sucer un écrou." She barked.
He squinted and she rose to her feet once she heard the gate was open for passengers, "Suck a nut in three different languages."
