Emma grimaced as she sat on the fight. Her father was too chill about all of this. What was going on? Why was she on a flight? Why were the snacks so bad? That didn't matter, she was waiting until she could get off the god damn plane. She was sure she could feel people staring at her, but she wasn't sure why. She peered out of the window by her and sighed out. She was in a new place with a little letter that told her:
"Terminal under construction. Noon."
Great.
Emma waited and waited and waited, and finally, when she was allowed off of the flight to get to the Terminal, Emma rushed off of the plane. It was nearly Noon. Whatever this was, she couldn't be late. Emma bumped into Passengers and staff alike, apologizing as she made her way around the Terminals.
Terminal under construction.
Not that one.
Terminal under construction.
That one seemed closed, not under construction.
Terminal under construction.
Aha! Finally. Emma took a few glances around, and started to feel sick to her stomach. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. Again, maybe someone was going to kill her. Meh, it couldn't be worse than the airline snacks that tasted of stale bread and washing away sorrows with a holiday. She peeled back the signs of danger, making her way down the corridor. She gulped as she started pulling her case along the area, and there it was. Other people. As she moved closer, she mumbled in a whisper. "Please don't kill me, please don't kill me..."
And then she stopped, looking to the guys she had located. One was already standing, asking if they were supposed to be meeting him. Hm, maybe it was a group thing. At least she was away from the crowds. A New York City girl and she hated crowds. Ironic. Emma pulled out her earbuds, which were red and striped, feeling her awkwardness kick in. She narrowed her eyes before gulping down the little shaky voice she had when she was nervous, and replaced it with that of confidence, tilting her head slightly as she spoke. Here goes.
"Uhm. Hi. Is this...um...under construction?"
"Terminal under construction. Noon."
Great.
Emma waited and waited and waited, and finally, when she was allowed off of the flight to get to the Terminal, Emma rushed off of the plane. It was nearly Noon. Whatever this was, she couldn't be late. Emma bumped into Passengers and staff alike, apologizing as she made her way around the Terminals.
Terminal under construction.
Not that one.
Terminal under construction.
That one seemed closed, not under construction.
Terminal under construction.
Aha! Finally. Emma took a few glances around, and started to feel sick to her stomach. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. Again, maybe someone was going to kill her. Meh, it couldn't be worse than the airline snacks that tasted of stale bread and washing away sorrows with a holiday. She peeled back the signs of danger, making her way down the corridor. She gulped as she started pulling her case along the area, and there it was. Other people. As she moved closer, she mumbled in a whisper. "Please don't kill me, please don't kill me..."
And then she stopped, looking to the guys she had located. One was already standing, asking if they were supposed to be meeting him. Hm, maybe it was a group thing. At least she was away from the crowds. A New York City girl and she hated crowds. Ironic. Emma pulled out her earbuds, which were red and striped, feeling her awkwardness kick in. She narrowed her eyes before gulping down the little shaky voice she had when she was nervous, and replaced it with that of confidence, tilting her head slightly as she spoke. Here goes.
"Uhm. Hi. Is this...um...under construction?"