"Aofie! Come on!" My Aunt Brigid shouted at me.  She stood upright with her bun, head, neck, torso, and legs in perfect alinement. You could tell she had been a model just from the way she stood. If you caught her at the right moment, you could even see it in her wrinkled face too. She was one of those people who manage to look beautiful even though she was aged beyond her years. I let go of my best friend Teresa, trailing my hands down her arms, squeezing her hands tightly and then pulling away.

"Bye, Aofie. See you in September." I clutched my pale green suitcase and stepped through the gate, bidding America goodbye. I turned and waved at my raven haired friend for the last time before handing the Barbie-like flight attendant my ticket and then following Aunt Brigid down the ramp, onto the plane.

This was going to be an interesting summer. I was seventeen now, so it had been nine years since the last time I had spent summer in Ireland with my great grandma or my Maiméo as she forced me to call her and my dreadful older cousin (of four years) Joey. My few memories of Joey all consisted of him doing dastardly things. Things such as cutting worms in half, ripping the wings off of bugs, and so on and so forth. Between my insane, eclectic grandma and my psychopathic, violent cousin; summers in Ireland weren't a good memory for me. I wasn't eager to be going again, although Aunt Brigid insisted that Joey had grown out of his aggressive nature and that Grandma's caretaker, Jessica could cater to my needs. 

As Aunt Brigid snatched my suitcase, also known as Paul (a name I had given it at six when I first got it) and stuffed it into the overhead bin. I scoped out the surroundings of my seat. Obviously, we were flying coach, a little more leg room and a little less crappy food weren't worth the extra two hundred dollars in charge. There were no small children within less then four rows of me and I celebrated knowing that I wouldn't be bothered by a crying or screaming child. A young man who had to be in his early twenties had already taken the window seat of my row and I knew Aunt Brigid enjoyed the aisle, which left me the middle seat. How pleasant being squished in between my motherly figure who stank of prunes and old lady perfume and a cute stranger who was reading Twilight (gag me).

I slouched into my seat, stuffing my small, satchel-like backpack under the seat in front of me. I had already pulled out my phone, my shitty headphones, The Book Thief (a great classic that I was itching to reread) and a pack of mint gum. I popped my headphones into my ears (I was listening to Für Elise, I'm the ultimate classical music nerd), and a piece of gum into my mouth. I pulled my book open to the page I had left off on and drowned myself in the world of Death, Liesel, Max, Hans, Rosa, and Rudy.

----

So cliché, I know, I had fallen asleep and the beautiful stranger woke me up so I could order dinner. He had shaken my shoulder gently and I'm positive I would have hit the ceiling if I hadn't been seatbelted in. I shuffled in my seat to face the attendant which caused me to see the puddle of drool that had formed on my book. I winced out of embarrassment before asking for the salad (I'm a vegetarian) and a seltzer.

"Do you want a napkin for your book?" Even his voice was cute, he had a slight southern accent. I nodded. I could feel my cheeks burning red as I grabbed the napkin from his fingers and scrubbed at my book.

"Thanks for waking me up, I'm absolutely starved." I looked towards him as I crumpled my napkin into a ball. He was looking right back at me with hazel (a green hazel) eyes.

"No problem." He smiled and I could feel blush deepening. "So Book Thief, huh?" He gestured towards the book that my left hand was clutching.

"Yeah, it's one of my favorites." I smiled fondly down at my worn copy of novel, he made a noise of agreement as if to say, 'Me too'. "And you with your," I paused clearing my throat and trying not to sound completely disgusted, "Twilight." He laughed, throwing his head back.

"My best friends' girlfriend is making me read it. She's obsessed." His laugh was really nice, as in head-spinningly nice.

"Team Jacob or Team Edward?" I posed the most important question of all time (and I was only half-joking), raising an eyebrow and tilting my head. 

"Jacob, hands down." I cheered and we both laughed. I was definitely Team Jacob for a number of reasons, one being that werewolves were easily three (if not more) times better than vampires and Taylor Lautner was definitely at 12 out of 10.

"Shut up," Aunt Brigid expressed what everyone around us must have been thinking as she lazily reached over and smacked my arm half- heartedly. I giggled and the man next to me pulled a notebook and a pen out of his bag. He started scribbling something onto the pad and I knew this was going to be a fun plane ride.

---

Surely enough, the plane ride was fantastic. It was filled with flirty banter (whether he was doing it on purpose or not) and laughter. At the gate, I bid the cute stranger goodbye, realizing I had never asked him his name as he walked away. I dragged Paul after me as I trekked my way to my driver's car. The driver took my bag and stuffed it into the trunk while I hopped into the car. I rolled down the window and said goodbye to Aunt Brigid. She would be staying here in Dublin for a week before heading back to New York. "Be good for your Maiméo."

"I will be. Don't worry about little 'ole me." I shot her a cheeky grin and I could spot tears welling up in her eyes. "Don't cry, Aunt Brigid, you'll see me in like two months."

"I know. I love you, kiddo, okay?"

"Okay."

The car ride was decently short, I spent the whole time sketching out a new drawing. I was planning to apply to the Maryland Institute College of Art soon, but Aunt Brigid didn't want me going there. She said it was too far away and she wouldn't be able to stand me not being around. At least I was lucky enough that it was in my price range seeing that Aunt Brigid's dead husband was head of Belle Inc. ( my favorite clothing brand, along with millions of other people seeing there was literally at least one of their stores in every town in America)  while he was alive. 

We pulled up to the house, just as I finished shading in my drawing. The house was just as I remembered it. It was a large house, overgrown with thick, bushy plants. A mixture of cement cream, brown vines, green and red leaves, and black iron interrupted by the clean glass and frames of the gorgeous windows. The roof was capped by two chimneys that were certainly bigger then me. A small corgi was sitting by the potted plant next to the front entrance. I hopped  out of the chair, not so happy nostalgia hitting me in the face. As I looked at the balcony, memories of the time that Joey locked me out of the house during a rain storm hit me. I could feel the cold water stinging and I could hear my screams for Joey to let me inside. I shuddered, snapped back to reality by the driver handing me Paul. I smiled, thanked him, handed him his pay, then walked to the entrance of the house, plastering a smile on my face.

AN: here have this crappy now edited chapter, also I'm kind of trying to go out of my comfort zone with Aofie (by making her like things I don't) so writing her can be tough 

Love, your favorite soggy lampshade, Laurel ❤