I giggled into a pillow and Stella slapped me in the back of the head. "Shut your yap!" She grumbled, rolling over. Liz laughed and looked back at the cellphone. I miss you so much!!! She looked over at the clock which read midnight. It's midnight. She informed him, sending it,
I sighed. I closed my phone and tossed and turned all night. At 6, I got up and made breakfast. I woke Sarah and we both dreased, eat, and went to pick up Carolina and Ryan. We went to the airport and I waited anxiously to see Liz.
Sarah:
I bounced up and down. "I can't wiat! I love planes!" I giggled.
Liz glowered as Stella hit her over the head with a pillow and dragged her out of bed, tossing her in the shower. Liz groaned and quickly showered, slowly dressing and walking out. Everyone was in the same thing. Black jeans, a lime green skirt, a lime green tank, a black zip-up jacket, and a pair of black and lime green Vans. Liz pulled snake bite lip rings through her lips and quickly pinned her hair up with a microphone shaped pin. They all put in their multiple earings and smiled at each other.
"Ready?" Liz asked.
"Ready!" They all yelled and ran out to Fritz's red mustang, jumping in and driving to the airport.
The second they got there Liz jumped out and ran into the airport, her luggage slung around her shoulder. She looked around frantically, trying to see Johnathan.
I saw Liz, and held myself back from running to her. Sarah, however, did not do so much. she rushed towards her and granbbed her leg. "Liz!" She giggled. I smiled at the sight, and longed for her to be in my arms.
Liz smiled and squatted to the ground, giving Sarah a hug. "Where's your brother?" She asked and Sarah ran through the crowd yelling, "This way!"
Liz stood and shouldered her back running after her. She hugged Johnathan tightly once she reached him. The others walked over to them, laughing about an inside joke.
I pulld away, blushing. "Isn't this a little public?" I asked turning red. I didn't like doing personal things in public. Not to mention her friends were starring at us.
I nodded. "Aren't we taking a private jet?" I asked hopefully, taking her hand and lifting it to my lips. I kissed it gently, then we all went to the plane.
The idea that a poem was a made thing stayed with me, and I decided then that I wanted to be an artist, not just a diarist. So I put myself through a kind of apprenticeship in writing poetry, and I understood even then that my practice as a poet was deeply related to my reading. — Edward Hirsch
