Black And Gold - Sam Sparro

ISABELLA

The air was dry. The passengers that were surrounding me in this awfully cramped airplane seemed to be unaware of their rising volumes. My skin felt dry and my hair a frizzy mess. All I wanted to do was to step off of this plane and see my sister. To touch the ground and kiss it... 

A five hour flight turned into a seven hour one due to a two hour pre-flight delay. The airplane handlers seemed to had forget how to do their job and were unable to fix the flat tires on the plane. An hour and a half later, they had finally managed to do their job. This left me thinking that we would finally be able to take off. However, luck was not on my side. The incompetent bag handlers lost half the luggage that was supposed to be on our plane and the pilot (bless his soul), refused to fly the aircraft until every single luggage was on board. 

The travelers were restless. Jet leg hit like a full fledge jackhammer. I was exhausted. Also, if the woman sitting beside me spits into another juice box I will lose my mind. 

"Come on, come on," I say to myself as I watch the snail-like flight attendants open up the overhead bins. I felt restless. My fingers anxiously twiddled with the strings of my oversized sweater. "Let's go!" My hand quickly covers my mouth once I realized how loud my voice had gone. 

The juice-box-spitter turned her head and fixed me with an annoyed glare, in which I returned. 

What felt like ages, the air hostess finally nodded towards us, signaling that we were finally able to depart. Picking up my carry-on luggage and purse, I followed the line out the aircraft. An overly perky air hostess gave me an extremely giddy "Thank you for choosing Virgin Airlines". I gave her the best fake smile that I was able to muster up and walked off the plane. Never in my twenty-two years of life have I been more excited to be on solid ground. 

Outside, the air was frigid. The ice cold winter air nipped at my cheeks. I had forgotten how cold New York got during the Christmas season. I pulled my heavy jacket closer towards my body, thankful that Nat had brought it with her. I looked over my shoulder to see Nat trailing behind me. She was grinning at me, her eyes shining with the remaining tears that she had shed only minutes before.

"I can't believe you're home," she gushed while wrapping her arm around me. She reached up to place a chaste kiss on my cheek. I wrapped my arm around her small frame, bringing her close to me. 

"I miss you too, kid." I smiled back, my teeth chattering slightly by the cold winds. 

"Ty is just over there," she said nodding her head towards the black Jeep that was parked only meters away. 

Standing outside the jeep was my best friend. His lips were pulled back into a large grin. His hazel eyes twinkling in the sunlight. "Look who the cat dragged in. Welcome home world traveler." He smirked whilst bringing me into his arms in a bone crushing hug. 

"Hello to you too," I laughed as my arms wrapped around him. He smelt like home. The  musk of his cologne invaded my senses. God, I missed these people. 

Ty grabs my suitcase and shoves it into the back of his jeep. Nat has already managed to jump into the back seat leaving the front read for the taking. "Coming in or what?" Ty chuckles as he jumps into the front seat. It takes me a moment to realize that the right side of the jeep is in fact where I sit and it's not the drivers seat. After living in London for the past six months, I had seemingly forgotten what an American vehicle looked like. I shake my drowsy head of unruly curls and jump into the seat. 

-

The black jeep pulls up in front of the tall, overly priced, brick mansion. Nothing about this home has changed: from the bricks that lined the walls, to the overly priced art that filled the walls. Nothing about this place that I had claimed to call home for twenty-one years of my life has changed. It was still the cold and dreary place that my parents tried so hard to make home. Yet all of their attempts fell short, with their constant maids and  shiny chandeliers. Nothing about this place was homely, the one thing I craved since childhood. 

"Home sweet home," I muttered to myself as I walked inside the foyer. An unusual smell of vanilla hit me as I walked inside. "What is that?" Nat looks over at me, a smirk on her lips. 

"The new maid. She's young and is very adamant about scented candles. She lights them all the time." 

"That must drive mom nuts," I laughed. 

Nat rolled her eyes, "you have no idea." She walks farther into our home, looking around the front sitting area. "Zoe," she calls out. 

A few minutes later a dark haired girl walks into the room. Her cheeks are rosy as she wears the overly cliche maid outfit with hair pulled up into a topknot bun. She didn't look any older than twenty-five. A slightly unprofessional squeal escapes her lips as she claps her hands together. "You must be Isabella!" She rushes over to me, grabbing my bags from my hands. Her lips are stretched out into a wide grin. "I have been looking forward to you coming home. Natalia has spoke very highly of you." 

Her eyes were wide with her soft pink painted lips stretched out into a genuine smile. Her authentic demeanor made me feel comfortable instantly. "I'll put these in your room," she tells me before turning around and walking upstairs. 

"Damn," Ty breathes out. I turn around, a knowing smirk plastered on my lips. 

"Keep it in your pants," I joke. His cheeks turn a deep red. He shakes his head as his hand rubs the back of his neck. 

"What?" He stutters, his cheeks growing even deeper in colour. All the years that I have known Ty, not once have I seen him grow so flustered over a woman. 

"I've never seen you squirm so much before," I tease. 

The laugh that escapes his lips is uncomfortable. "I'm not squirming," he feigns confidence but his voice cracking. 

"You totally are!" Nat joins in, her playful giggles filling the room. "Zoe is wonderful! You should talk to her. I think you're around the same age too. And I believe she's single," she continues, her voice growing with excitement with each passing word. 

Ty continues to stand in the middle of our foyer. His body language growing tense as he stands there. Nat and I, being the great friends that we are, continue to giggle and poke fun. In turn, Ty rolls his eyes at our childish antics and walks pass us and up to my room. 

- 

Dinner is awkward.

The meal is delicious. Zoe made lasagna - a simple meal that is far from the usual French dishes that my mother usually prefers. The company, however, is awkward. 

Mother sits quietly in her chair. Her eyes peeking over at me every once in a while. The moment she first saw me, her reaction was not what I had expected. I had imagined our reunion to be full of laughs, smiles and maybe even a few tears on her part. It had been six months since I have seen her. My desire for a warm welcome was understandable. Instead, she looked at me and only said "Hello Isabella. Welcome home," in a very monotone voice, before walking into the kitchen. It was strange. Not what I had expected from her. 

Father, on the other hand, welcomed me with open arms. His eyes glistening slightly with a few tears. "I missed you, sweetheart." He had said as his large frame engulfed me into a bear hug. A complete opposite reaction from what I had expected from him. I looked over at him, his eyes content as he ate his dinner. "Tell me, Isabella. How is London?" 

I took a quick sip from my glass of water before wiping the edges of my lips with the cloth napkin. "It's good, dad." I give him a small smile. 

"Have you found work?" My father was never one to beat around the bush. 

"Yes," I nod, "I have." 

"With Mr. Hemmings I hope?" His eyes are set on me, all the lightness that were there from before deminishing. 

A small cough comes from Nat. I lift my head up from my plate to look at her. Her eyes widen slightly, her dark brows rising up and down slowly. She pulls her dirty blonde hair to the side and nudges her head to our father. I look at her, my brows furrowed slightly, unsure what she was trying to say. Instead I open my mouth to answer. "Um, no." I carefully say. 

Father looks at me, his brows raised. "What?" His voice rises slightly causing mom to job in her seat.  "I told Mr. Hemmings specifically to contact you and give you a job. That incompetent fool. I will have to give him a call and have a talk with him." He pushes his chair away from the table. 

"Wait!" I yell, my voice coming out louder than expecting. Mother shoots me a scowl causing me to whisper a quick sorry before sitting back down. "Dad, you don't have to call him."

"And why not?" He asks. 

"Please sit down," I speak gently. 

Slowly, he sits back down. His eyes set straight on me. He waves his hands in front of him, signaling me to continue my explanation. "You see, he um-" I take a deep breath. "He did contact me."

Father motions for me to continue. His brows furrowed in deep concentration. "He did contact me about an interview in his firm. But, I declined." I shut my eyes awaiting the outburst that was sure to happen. 

"What do you mean you declined his offer." Dad speaks carefully. His voice awfully calm. 

"I told you before I left, dad, that I didn't want to work for him. I went to London to find my own self. Live my own life." 

"What the hell, Isabella. This was a great opportunity for you!" His once soft eyes burning in fury. "Does Jasmine not work there? She should have convinced you to work there. What is wrong with this family?" 

A small giggle escapes my lips in which causes a deep blush to rise to my cheeks. I sit up straighter, running my fingers through my loose curls. I straighten my dress, "No. She's a hairdresser." 

Dad lets out a heavy breath. I look over at him, his head shaking. "What is wrong with you young people these days. You are smart and capable of working high paying jobs and being very successful. But instead- instead you become hairdressers and run off to foreign countries?" He shakes his head. "And what are you doing? Waitressing?" He scoffs. 

"No, father. I work at a local bookstore."

He scoffs once again. "A bookstore? Four years getting a bachelors degree in business and my daughter works at a bookstore in London." 

"When are you going to be done with all of this, Isabella. You're now being ridiculous and wasting your time." My mother now chooses to speak up. Her eyes dropping in disappointment. 

"I am not being ridiculous, mom, dad. I've been thinking," I keep my voice calm, not wanting to be rude. "I want to start my own publishing company." 

My fathers eyes now perk up at this. The pride that he had seemingly lost before beginning to regrow. "A publishing company," he says slowly. 

"Yes. I've always loved books, you and mother both know this. Working at the bookstore, I have re-fallen in love with the world of novels and literature. I want to open up an independent publishing company in London, where the books that we send out go to local independent bookstores." 

Silence ensues. 

"I think that's a great idea," my father speaks. His answer taking me back slightly. 

"Really?" 

"Yes. You've went to school for business and if you want to start your own company then I say go for it." 

I stare at my parents in shock. My mouth opening wide. "While you're here, I will set up appointments for you to meet up with publishing company CEOS and leaders. We will get this up and going."

My head begins to shake, "No. Please don't do that." 

My dad eyes me, his brows furrowed once more. "Why?" 

"I don't want to start yet. I want to live my twenties still. I don't want to become a CEO or anything like that just yet. I don't even know who I am yet!" 

"Oh please, Isabella. Now you're being riduclous."

"No mother, I'm not." I shake my head. I look over at Nat who's eyes are wide, a smile plastered on her lips. 

"I think that's a great idea!" She pipes up. I mouth a quick thank you, before turning back to my parents. 

"Natalia stay out of this conversation." My mother reprimands. 

"No, mother," she rebukes. "Izzy has followed your rules all her life. I think it's great that she is living in London and finding herself. Give the girl a break for once! Let her live life. Waste money on clothes, drink at the clubs, sleep with a sexy British guy," she winks at me before continuing. I shake my head at her but don't say anything. "Let her find herself! Give her a fucking break." 

"Natalia! Watch your language," my mother gasps. 

"I'm sorry." She quickly apologizes. "But honestly mom, Izzy is an adult. She's not being ridiculous or reckless. She's finding out who she is and she can't do that if she settles down with a job or talking to boring as hell, stuffy business men. Let her do this! You don't have to agree with her, but you're her parents! Support her." Nat lets out a long breath, her eyes shining with victory. 

I stare at my sister, my mouth slightly open. If there was one thing that I always admired about Natalia, that was her fearless attitude. She knew who she was. She knew what she wanted and went for it. Where as I would sneak around my parents backs to wear the clothes I wanted and do what I wanted. 

"That's enough," my mother utters. Her voice exasperated. 

"But that's what I want, mother, dad. I want to discover who I am. I want to live my life for myself." 

An uneasy silence envelopes the dining room. Zoe walks in with a platter of dessert. She looks over at me, a small grin on her lips. She places small plates with pumpkin pie and ice cream. I mutter a quiet thank you before taking a bite of my pie. 

The rest of the dinner is quiet. My mind is rushing with tonights discussion. Everything that Nat had said was true. I wanted to find out who I was, but I couldn't help but wonder if I was doing that. 

-

That night, I laid in my childhood bed with thoughts rushing through my mind. I thought about my parents and their expectations for me. I thought about Nat and what she had said during dinner about my life. I thought about Chase and his love for me, and the guilt that I felt for not reciprocating that love. 

I also thought about him. I thought about Harry. 

I thought about him every day since we shared our sweet kiss. I hoped that the more times I repeated his name, the meaning that came with it would lessen. I'd repeat it over and over again, hoping that I would grow tired of it. But the more that I thought about Harry and repeated his name, the more fond I grew of it. The meaning of him and who he was growing with each time I spoke his name. 

My body turns to the side. I stare at my phone, a new blank message opened up. I begin to type out. 

Harry - 

I press the back space, deleting his name. 

Hi Harry - 

Once again, my finger presses the backspace button. 

I miss you. I type out carefully before pressing the send button. 

Automatically, a response appears. I miss you too, babe. -Chase  

I roll over in my bed, shutting my phone off. What was I going to do? Why was I doing this to myself? My eyes shut tightly and I pull the heavy duvet up to my neck. The sounds of the New York city traffic sounding from below. With each beep and siren, my mind shuts off carrying me off into a dreamless slumber.