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Excuse the mistakes

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He leaned down and brushed a few strands of my hair behind my ear. “I want you,” he whispered, his breath warm and inviting. “I want you so bad, Bridget, it hurts.”

“I want you, too,” I breathed, and I found myself hypnotized by his electric blue eyes and the way my name rolled of his tongue. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close to his shirtless, chiseled chest.

“We don’t have much time,” he said huskily, “and I need to have you just once.”

“We—” My words were cut off as he started trailing kisses down my neck towards my collarbone, and everywhere his lips touched turned hot. “I can’t. If my parents find out…”

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, and I looked up into Ryan Gosling’s eyes as he said, “I love y—”

There was a sharp pain in my back that caused my eyes to snap open.

I looked around as my heart started to slow down from having the crap scared out of me, and I was brought back to reality. I was in a plane, specifically coach, sandwiched between two obese males. One of them was snoring loudly and drooling, and the other was at least forty and playing Mario Kart on a PSP.

I felt a sharp pain in my back once again, and I realized that it was coming from behind me. More specifically, it was coming from a kick to the back of my chair. I boosted myself up and swiveled around to see a six-year-old boy with a giant, toothless grin on his face.

“Can you stop kicking my chair, please?” I asked sweetly.

“Can you stop kicking my chair, please?” the little boy asked mockingly, and my smiled turned right upside down into a frown.

“Excuse me?” I asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Excuse me?” he repeated, using the same nasally, nails-on-a-chalkboard voice that was really starting to piss me off.

I glanced at the empty seats on either side of the little shit and asked, “Where’s your mother?”

“Where’s your mother?”

“Cut that out!”

“Cut that out!”

“I swear to god I will—”

“Ladies and gentlemen, please buckle your seatbelt. We now are beginning our descent.”

“You got lucky,” I hissed, jutting my pointer finger at the boy, and he stuck his tongue out at me as I turned and slid back into my seat.

I tightened my already buckled seat belt and gripped the armrests of the chairs I was seated in as the airplane dipped into a dive. My stomach rose to my throat, and I started breathing like I was in labor.

Today had been completely awful.

My mom had gotten driven me at eleven last night to get to a redeye flight at the airport, which was one of three airports where I had spent my day waiting on delayed flights. My flight from Arizona had made some stupid stop in Texas, since apparently there was some weather that forced the airplane to be grounded for a couple hours. Then, from Texas, I’d gone to the Atlanta airport, where I’d hung out for another two hours before catching my current flight to the airport in New York.

Let me tell you something that you probably already know; airports suck! They’re crowded, the food areas are all greasy fast food, and you end up waiting all day for a flight that’s going to make you sick to your stomach and dizzy.

Why did I spend my entire day in an airport? Well, after being out of school for four days, sitting around my house and occasionally babysitting my next door neighbor’s toddler twins, my dad broke the news that he had enrolled me in a boarding school in New York, which was pretty damn far from my Arizona home.

My dad made it very clear that this boarding school, named Trinity Prep, was a school that had strict rules and hard-lined teachers. He stressed the fact that he expected me to learn to obey rules, and that he didn’t want any reason to have to fly all the way to New York and pick me up from another school I’d been expelled from.

Now, I wasn’t planning on getting expelled ever again, but I wasn’t planning on becoming mindless and obedient either. That just wasn’t me.

Unfortunately, being sent to a boarding school across the country wasn’t enough to get my parents to leave their house to come and drop me off at school. I mean, I could understand why my mom wasn’t, since she was deathly afraid of flying. However, my dad just said that he had to work, despite today being a Sunday.

So, I’d packed some of my things, like bedding and school supplies that I didn’t want to carry with me, and my dad mailed it to the school so that it was waiting for me when I arrived. I still had a suitcase stuffed with as many clothes and shoes that I could fit, despite there being a weight limit on checked bags.

The airplane dipped once again, and I swallowed hard and glanced out the window. We weren’t that high off of the ground, and a few moments later, the plane touched down on the runway. My body jolted as the wheels connected to the ground, and I let out a sigh of relief. We had landed in the final airport of the day, and I had survived.

I pulled my backpack onto my lap from the ground, and as soon as the airplane had been taxied into the terminal, I jumped to my feet. I shimmied past the man with the mental maturity of an eight-year-old who was muttering at his PSP, and I stepped into the aisle. I’d made the effort not to put anything in the overhead bin so I wasn’t that annoying person blocking people from leaving, and that also meant that I could just hurry from the plane while the other people had to get their things.

I gave the beaming stewardess an awkward smile as I walked past her, and I walked quickly up the tunnel to the terminal. I studied the first sign that I saw and figured out which way to go to pickup my suitcase, and then I hurried that way.

I was exhausted after spending about twelve hours in different airports, even though it wasn’t past noon, and I just wanted to get my stuff and get to Trinity. I still had to take a taxi to get to the school, as well as meet with the dean and unpack, and I had no idea how I was going to do all of those things. I was debating buying a Monster for energy, despite the fact that energy drinks made my hands shake.

I rode down the elevator and stood at the conveyor belt that had been designated for my plane, and I waiting impatiently for the luggage to start rolling out. I leaned against a wall and pulled my phone out of my pocket. Just as I looked down and started to turn it on, I heard someone clear their throat right in front of me.

My head snapped up to see a cocky guy about my age standing in front of me. He had dark brown hair gelled up in the front, and he was wearing a pair of sports shorts, as well as a t-shirt from Abercrombie. The boy had a smirk on his face, and I just wasn’t really in the mood for whatever stupidity was about to spew from his mouth.

I don’t mean to sound self-centered or vain about expecting the guy to hit on me. It’s just kind of something that happened a lot. People thought I was pretty, and I’d actually worked hard to try and look attractive. Unlike perfect girls, I’d spent most of my middle school years with pudge and acne, both of which I’d had to work on getting rid of myself. I was pretty because I worked for it.

“Hey,” he said, flashing his pearly whites, “I saw you on the plane.”

See; stupidity.

“Because that’s not creepy,” I muttered sarcastically, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

Obviously, the boy wasn’t deterred because he stalk out his hand for me to shake. “The name’s Simon,” the boy stated, “What about you? Is your name as pretty as your face.”

“Did that really just come out of your mouth?” I asked, gawking at him. If I thought Simon’s first statement was stupid, then this was just plain idiotic. I mean, when did pickup lines like that actually work?

Simon started to say something back to me, his smirk having faltered a little bit, but a buzzer went off, and luggage started to roll through the conveyor belt. Immediately, I saw my red hard-top suitcase, and I pushed past Simon carefully.

“Bye Simon,” I called over my shoulder, and I emphasized his name. I grabbed my suitcase and hauled it off the conveyor belt, and I sighed.

Time to get a taxi.

*

“You can go in now, Miss West.”

“Thanks,” I said tiredly, and the secretary gave me a warm smile before returning to her computer. I stood up from the plastic chair I’d been sitting in, and I glanced at my suitcase and backpack before walking over to the door labeled “DEAN”. I let out a deep breath before turning the door knob and pushing into the office.

After leaving the airport, I caught a taxi and had it drive me the thirty minutes to Trinity Prep. I’d pretty much dozed off on the way to the school, and the taxi driver had to actually get out of the car and come shake me awake. I was far too tired to be embarrassed.

I’d dragged my suitcase and unbelievably heavy backpack up the front steps of the administration building, where I’d had to wait ten minutes for my meeting with the dean. I’d actually managed to get nervous about this first meeting, because the dean had no doubt read my record. He probably thought I was some awful person because of my many detentions, two suspensions, and eventual expulsion.

I walked into the office, and after closing the door behind myself, I cleared my throat. The dean, who’d been typing something on his computer, looked up at me. “Ah,” he said, standing up from his chair, “You must be Bridget West.”

“Yeah,” I confirmed, walking over to his desk and shaking his outstretched arm. The dean, Dean Hayes according to the name plaque on his desk, gave me a genuine smile and gestured for me to sit down.

“I want to keep this meeting short, since I’m sure you’re anxious to get back to your room to unpack and get comfortable,” Dean Hayes stated, and then he pulled a manila folder out of his desk and opened it. I leaned closer and saw my old school record, and I winced.

However, instead of frowning at me and saying how he didn’t want any trouble, Dean Hayes picked up the small packet of papers and ripped it, just like in the first episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. “The past is the past, Bridget,” Dean Hayes said, tossing the scraps of paper into a trash bin, “Now’s a fresh start. Although, if I find pigs running through my campus, I won’t be pleased.”

“Thanks,” I replied, my voice trailing off as I looked at Dean Hayes in surprise.

“Now,” Dean Hayes said, grabbing a sheet of paper out of the same file and handing it to me, “Here is your class schedule. Instead of homeroom, we have a morning meeting in the Great Hall at 8 am. From there, classes start.”

“Alright,” I replied, turning my attention to the schedule in my hands. I scanned over the classes and smiled. All of my electives were art, which I knew was because of my dad. He knew how much I loved art, and obviously, he’d been the one to sort out my classes because it hadn’t been me. I knew he was mad about me getting expelled, but he still cared enough to do this for me.

Dean Hayes cleared his throat, and I looked back up at him. “Here is your dorm assignment and room key, as well as the key card that will open your residence house,” he said, handing me a key on a Trinity Prep lanyard, a keycard with my name on it, and well as a piece of paper with a map on the back. I scanned it quickly to see that I was going to be in room B-15 in Bristol House. 

Suddenly, just as I started to ask Dean Hayes how to get to Bristol, there was a knock on his door. “Come in!” Dean Hayes called, and a second later, a boy about my age walked in. He looked too much like Dean Hayes for me to not recognize him as Dean Hayes’s son. They had the same black hair and bright green eyes.

“Hey Dad,” the boy said, confirming my suspicions.

“Good morning, Jack,” Dean Hayes replied warmly, and he gestured towards me with his hand. “This is Bridget West. I need you to show her to her room in Bristol, okay?”

“Yeah, no problem,” Jack said with a shrug, and he turned his attention to me. “My name’s Jack,” he stated, sticking his hand out.

“Bridget,” I replied, even though Dean Hayes had just said that, and I shook his hand firmly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Jack said with a warm, genuine grin, and I glanced back at Dean Hayes.

“Do I need anything else?” I asked, and Dean Hayes shook his head.

“No, Miss West, you are all set,” he said, nodding at the door, “I hope you like Trinity Prep and don’t feel the need to set any wild animals loose.”

I chuckled at Dean Hayes jab at my prank, and then I stood up from the chair. I nodded at Dean Hayes once, and then I followed Jack out of his dad’s office. I shrugged my backpack onto my shoulders, wincing as the straps dug into my already sore shoulders, and then I reached for my suitcase.

However, before I could grab it, Jack did. “You’re probably exhausted,” he said as he extended the handle, “I can get this for you.”

“You sure?” I asked, though I was breathing a huge sigh of relief on the inside, “I mean, it’s pretty heavy.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jack replied, waving a dismissive hand. I didn’t bother fighting him on it because honestly, no part of me wanted to lug that thing around. “Now, let’s get you to your room.”

I followed Jack out of the administration building, and we started on a path that wound through the school campus. I noticed that there wasn’t anyone to be seen, and I frowned. “Where are all the other students?” I asked, “They can’t be in classes right now.”

“People are either sleeping or out Bloomstown,” Jack answered with a shrug. Bloomstown was the town five minutes away from Trinity Prep, and when I’d googled it on my laptop, it looked like a college town minus the college. I’d forgotten that students were allowed to go on certain weekends between certain hours.

Jack came to a stop in front of a big, rustic looking brick building with a sign that read “Bristol Hall” on it. He started to drag my suitcase up the front steps, and I could help but laugh at the strained look on his face. “You think this is funny?” Jack demanded, and despite his accusing tone, he had a teasing look in his eye.

“Hey,” I replied, putting my hands up in surrender, “I did tell you it was heavy.”

“That you did,” Jack huffed dramatically, and I hopped up the stairs after him. I swiped the keycard Dean Hayes had given me in a black box that Jack had pointed at, and then there was a loud beep. Jack yanked open the door and motioned for me to go through first.

“Alright,” I said, glancing at my sheet of paper to find my room, “I’m in B-15.”

“That would be,” Jack’s voice trailed off as he looked around and gathered his bearings, and then he pointed down the hallway to a staircase. “We just have to go up those stairs and go to the right, and there’s your room.”

“Awesome,” I replied, “lead the way, Sir!” Jack chuckled, and he rolled my suitcase to the stairs. He looked pained at the thought of pulling my suitcase up the steps, so I decided to help. “Here,” I said, pointing at the suitcase, “I’ll grab one end and you grab the other.”

“Good idea,” Jack said, and after grabbing our respective ends, Jack and I picked up my suitcase, and we started up the stairs slowly, since Jack was walking backwards. After a few minutes, we reached the next level safely, and Jack resumed wheeling my suitcase down the hallway. We came to the door labeled “B-15” quickly, and Jack stood my suitcase up on one end.

“This is where I leave you,” Jack said with a smile, “I’ll see you around school, Bridget.”

“Thanks for the help,” I replied, and Jack nodded once before walking past me to the stairs. I glanced over my shoulder and watched him walk quickly down the stairs. Then, I let out a tired sigh and jammed my room key into the lock.

After twisting it until I heard I click, I pushed into my room while dragging my suitcase in behind me. My roommate was nowhere to be seen, and I noticed how my side of the room was completely bare, save for the two cardboard boxes on my bed, and hers was covered in posters and pictures.

I knew that my things to decorate with were in the cardboard boxes, but at the sight of a bed, despite the fact that it wasn’t made, I felt all hours of exhaustion come crashing down on me. Suddenly, it took all of my strength not to just curl up on the floor and pass out.

I pulled my suitcase into the room and slammed the door shut behind me, and then I rolled my suitcase over to the base of my bed. I grabbed the boxes off of my bed without really feeling the weight, and I set them on the ground and nudged them under my bed. Then, I dropped my backpack on the floor next to the bed and kicked off my uggs.

Without a second of hesitation, I collapsed onto the bed and let myself relax.

Within moments, I was snoring and drooling in blissful unconsciousness.

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