CHAPTER THREE
The car right to the airport made me nauseous. Cecilia was sitting in the back seat with me as my father drove. I glanced over at her to find that she was focused on the back of the drivers seat. I knew she was sad that I would be leaving her, and a small amount of guilt rumbled in my stomach. "Hey, you alright?" I said softly, careful not to disturb the awkward silence in the car.
"Oh, me? Yeah, I'm totally fine. I'm just so happy for you!" She forced a smile across her perfect porcelain face.
"Don't lie to me," I warned.
"I'm not!," She said giving me a real smile, "I'm a little sad, but I'm fine. I'm more happy than sad, promise."
"Oook, if you say so," I grinned at her then averted my attention on the monstrous parking lot we were about to enter. My heart dropped and sunk into my empty stomach. This was it, I was about to rewrite the story of my life in a few moments.
Security was an annoyance as butterflies violently twisted my insides. Part of me wanted my father and best friend there, and a part of me didn't. The goodbye would probably kill me the most. I even almost cried bidding farewell to my mother that morning. Finally I passed through security and waited for my flight to be called.
A solid twenty minutes went by sitting in silence on a hard public bench. The blood rushing through my veins probably didn't help my comfort level. The smell of doughnuts and coffee made me cringe even more. Then my flight was called over an echoing loud speaker. My father got up first to ready my carry on, and Cecilia got up along with me. I looked at her and she was finally crying small tears that seemed to be contagious for I started to let out a couple tears. This was really happening.
"Beth, you have to visit every holiday! No exceptions!" She let out a small laugh that lacked joy. "And you have to call me like every night, and text me all the time," She said through sobs. I hugged her tightly then turned to my father who, unlike Cecilia, was dry eyed and smiling.
"You'll do great Bethany. Send us lots of pictures," he smiled. My father was an optimistic man who didn't have a problem with anything. Especially sending his daughter across the Atlantic to go to school."And stay out of trouble!" He warned. I hugged him, but not as warmly as I had hugged Cecilia. I picked up my carry on and gathered my composure. While boarding the plane, I waved to my old life.
The plane ride gave me a headache. The air was thick and the lighting was dull. I imagined a plane being clean and crisp. I was sitting next to a business woman who was extremely engaged with her laptop. I decided not to disturb her with small talk and retained eye contact with my cell phone.
By the end of the flight I really had to pee, but didn't have enough courage to use the public restroom in the plane. So I was thankful when we made the landing, twelve hours later. Once discharged from the giant bird I noticed something right off the bat, everyone had an accent.
