16 Hours Until Landing

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic
A very rough draft of chapter1.

Submitted: February 12, 2012

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Submitted: February 12, 2012

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My 17th birthday started out with a hard smack on the head. When I woke up, my face pressed against the cold concrete, I looked at Carter, a huge smirk plastered across his face. All of my other classmates stopped their side conversations to see what the commotion was, and were now crowding around me, telling Carter he was lucky he hadn’t killed me. There had been a piñata. Carter had swung as hard as he could, missed the piñata, and all I heard was the swoosh of a bat before he knocked me out cold. The lump on the back of my head throbbed, and I could feel my eyes watering as my classmates started chuckling at the hilarity of the situation. The scene was indeed funny, to someone on the outside. Girl gets overly excited about her birthday, and decorates her garage with lame streamers and lights draped across old rickety paneling. She invites many people she doesn’t know very well, trying to make a good impression. She expects the thing to be a huge bash, but her “Grand Entrance” is cut short because she took a baseball bat to the head. Now, as I sat on the ground, I thought about this whole experience, and how absolutely terrible it had been. Tears ran down my cheeks as I stood up, dusted off my dress, smoothed down my hair, and socked Carter Lewinsky in the nose.

Maybe you could qualify that as the first time Carter and I met. I wouldn’t ever tell that story to our two little boys; they would get the wrong idea about their father. Carter and I had a crazy, twisted relationship and to try to explain it seemed hopeless, but Jack and Charlie deserved to know. They would be going off to college soon. It had been the question that they had been haunted by their whole lives, and if answering it was the only way to make them not defer another year, I would answer it. So at 2:00 Sunday afternoon, I bought 3 plane tickets to London. We all packed our suitcases, but I found myself silently folding a couple days worth of clothing and packing toothbrushes, boots, notebooks, as well as comb and a coat for each of us. Carter had always said that I had always been so prepared I could expect a surprise. It was painfully true. On our trip to Italy for our honeymoon, we had lost our suitcases. Carter’s face hardened as he spoke to a confused airline attendant, insisting that our bags had to be on the plane.  I then pulled out of my carry-on a map, two waters, jackets, shoes, pants, shirts, soap, a comb, floss and a pop-up tent. The airline attendant let out a hopeful gasp and Carter laughed until his gut was sore.  


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