I have much to apologize for about this chapter. There are many random things I threw in. Like the old steward. (Ohhhh and by the way, I THINK that's what those funny little helper people on the planes who stuff nasty peanuts down your throat are called. And if not, too bad. I am calling them stewards and stewardess-ess) Like, about the whosamathingit with the pilot. I don't really know. And the lame notes. However, I have found that if you point your mouse over the fun clickable purple button and lightly press down with your left finger, you will be rewarded with another chapter that may or may not suck :
---Michaels POV---
I am an idiot. I really am. Yes, I wanted to kiss her again, but I should not have asked her that, in front of everyone, on the plane, while we happened to be in the middle of a fight. But I couldn't help it, although I shouldn't have even wanted it. She didn't trust me. Why doesn't she trust me? I wondered.
"Why doesn't she trust me?" I asked the guy with the long hair and the 'Got Peace' shirt who was sitting behind me.
"Dude, I don't know, but your like, karma is totally bad. And your aura is off. Not good vibes man, not good." He shook his head sadly. I nodded, not really thanking him.
"Escoose me, mistew." I felt a tug on my shirt. A short steward was standing by my side.
"Mistew, you need to gwet bahck on your seat. The 'seatbewt on' ligwht is still on. And I ahm going to haff to ask you to pwease lower your viof. Some of the oder passengers are complainink." He seemed a little annoyed. I felt the need to laugh, but I didn't really want to be mean.
"Oh, oh yah. Sorry…sorry about that."
"Is okay. But--" He glanced at Mia. "You mahy whant to apowogize to the prehty girl. She is qwuite 'hot', if you know what I am to bhe meanink." I frowned at him. I really want to punch him. Why makes him think he can talk about Mia like that?
"I know." I told him. "Hey, can you get some barbecue chips?" I asked him. I just wanted him gone. Actually, I was pretty sure they didn't have barbecue chips on this plane, but apparently the steward didn't know that. He hurried off. Oh well, at least it would get him out of my face. I didn't talk to anyone for most of the ride, except for the steward who came back and told me they didn't haff bwarbique chips, whould I mind these fihne salt and vinaygah ones?
---Mia's POV---
My head kept bumping against the window, and it was really starting to hurt, but I didn't want to look over at the guy next to me. He kept picking his nose, trying to be discreet, but really failing miserably. Oh, gross, he just dug a huge nugget out of his left nostril. Now he's shaking his head, all content, going "Nice, nice." And now he's…oh my god, he just stuck it under the armrest. The armrest separating our seats. THE ARMREST WE SHARE. This was almost worse than sitting next to Michael. Oops, he juts caught me looking at him. It's SUCH a good thing we should be landing soon. At least, that's what the pilot has been saying for the past hour. Because, not that I'm counting or anything, but we were supposed to land in Aruba 1hour, 18 minutes, and 33—no, 34 seconds ago. Wait—what's this? The stewardess who seems to greatly dislike me (she didn't even offer me the complimentary peanuts when the food cart came around. So I was all like, "Um, excuse me, but don't I get courtesy peanuts on this flight?" and she actually SNEERED—which I have never seen anyone do before—at me, and said, "We're all out. Here." And throws me a dinky little bag of crushed pretzels at me. If I were deathly allergic to peanuts, I could so. And I would, if I thought that stupid blonde, busty, white-toothed, pink-lipped BRAT was a hazard to my health.) Anyways, she hands me this folded little note with my name written on it in black pen, and says it's from the hottie two seats behind me. I'm so sure. A HOTTIE. That's what she called Michael, who was the sender of said note. I opened it, not daring to breathe.
Mia,
I'm really sorry, I never meant to say that. I never meant to leave you. It was just a shock, seeing you after all these years. Please, can't we talk?
Love (am I allowed to write that?)
MichaelI couldn't help smiling. I uncapped my blue glitter gel pen, and wrote back:
Michael,
Yes, we can talk. I would actually really like that a lot. I'm sorry—I should have listened to you back then, but I was too mad. And it's good to see you too.
Love (duh, you can write that)
Mia
I handed the note to the stewardess.
"Can you give this to the 'hottie'?" I asked her. She just gave me a tight smile and walked away. I couldn't help but grin. All of a sudden, the pilot's crackled voice came through the speakers.
"Uh, this is your pilot speaking. There has been a little 'miscommunication'. Everything is fine, but uh, we need to land on, uh, an island not to far from, uh, Aruba. It may, uh, take us a little, uh, a little while for us to get this sorted out, so uh, passengers are welcome to get off the plane to uh, do a little er, stretching. But please, do not uh, stray to far from the plane. Thank you and, uh, have a nice day."
There was a little click. Obviously the pilot thought no one could hear him anymore because the next thing we heard was:
"John, DAMMNIT, get your ass out here! NO! We have to make these people think…what? Oh. Well, hel-lo there Jenn. Nice little skirt you got on there, but I personally think you would look better without it o—"
One of the attendants leapt towards the door that lead to the pilot's area.
"Uh, sir? Excuse me? Um, sir! Si—SCOTT! SHUT UP! WE CAN STILL HEAR YOU!"
Now THAT was a classic moment.
All of a sudden, the "seatbelt on" light lit up, and we felt the plane start to go down. My ears popped. The next thing I knew, we were back on the ground, and I was getting off the plane.
"Mia! Mia, hey!" I turned and saw Michael making his way over to me. He gave me a small hug, hesitant at first, but I hugged him back and he almost crushed me. God, he smelled so good. I pulled away, and was just about to ask him what he was doing on his way to Aruba, when an absolutely GORGEOUS girl with honey blonde hair, humongous boobs, a tight tank top and small skirt and tanned skin started making her way towards us.
"Michael? Michael, is that you? Oh my gawd! I missed you!" she said all in one breath. She ran up to him and flung herself into his arms, planting a huge kiss on his cheek. I felt like I had just been punched in the stomach. Michael looked at me in an apologetic way.
"Mia…meet…meet Lacie."