Chapter 3: Fresh Off the Plane
It's been almost three hours, but we've finally landed in New York. I was mostly brain dead for the whole trip but yeah, we made finally it, yay; not.
I drag my eighty pound suitcase off of the plane and hobble crankily into the airport with Ms. Hetman hot on my heels. Geez, couldn't I have just travelled alone? I had to sit three hours beside a lady who for some reason thought I wanted to hear about her love life. Actually, it's not even a love life, it's more like a ship of broken hearts if you ask me. There was some douche named Harold, and some low-life named Johnathan, and then a player named Evan, and that's only the top three worst ones. This woman should just seriously become a feminist.
We walk slowly to the front of the airport and push through the crowds of people to make it outside.
"We can just get a cab from here." She says, peering down at her watch.
I roll my eyes and look away. Through all of the people, I immediately notice two that stand out. They look like twins, I think, one boy, one girl. They're both really paled skin, have really damn scary piercing turquoise blue eyes, and jet black hair. The girl is stunning, just staring at her makes me want to curl up in a hole and rethink my whole life. Her black hair is thick, wavy, and ugh, god I wish I had her hair. And her brother, damn, he is one fine something I can tell you, but I can also tell you that there is no way in hell he would go for a psycho like me. Ah well, I got nothing left to lose anyway.
I cock my head at their suitcases. I wonder if they'll be going to the school for psychos as well, oh hey, and they even have an annoying ass looking chauffeur just like I do. Wow, that is oddly coincidental.
"Oh, there's a cab right there, let's go Jemma." Ms. Hetman tugs on my arm before rushing towards the car.
I glance at the ominous twin pair one more time before leaving, the hot af boy looks at me momentarily before I turn away. When our eyes lock, I feel like I'm being sucked into a vortex or something. Everything around me turns into colors and lines, and no this is not the falling in love sensation, this is something totally different; and a lot weirder.
The only thing that slaps me back to reality is when I trip backwards on my feet (in front of him!!!) and fall backwards onto my ass.
"Jemma! C'mon!" Ms. Hetman calls again.
I groan as I stand back up, not daring to look behind me again. But I can still feel his eyes on me; craaaap. I climb into the cab as fast I can, buckling my seat belt. And of course, this stupid god-damn taxi is driving right past the twins, and I'll be the one facing them as it does. SERIOUSLY COULD MY LIFE GET ANY WORSE?
Oh yeah, it does. Right as I pass by the extremely attractive boy, he gives me a small wave. But it's not a friendly wave, it's an, "I'm a real bitch" wave. What the fuck?
Ok, New York is turning out not at all how I wanted to.