Arranged...WHAT?!

Chapter 21- Annoying Plane Peoples

Chapter 21-

Cody’s POV:

Plane rides really aren’t that great.

Actually they really suck.

Especially when you’re forced to sit next to a complete stranger, in COACH.

I’ve never sat in coach in my whole life. It’s always first class or private jet. And let me tell you, they’re completely different worlds.

In here there are the nice quiet business people that mind their own business, that really don’t cause much of a bother, but then there are the others.

There’s disgusting guy two rows ahead that’s an easy two-hundred pounds over-weight and apparently has an irresistible need to bite off, then eat his fingernails- there’s no way that’s sanitary!

Then there’s the four year old that no one seems capable of keeping still as he runs around with his arms over his head, wildly screaming bloody murder. Even the hostesses gave up on asking his father to try and calm him down because they’d already been trying for a half an hour, but nothing’s worked. The only hope now is, that his vocal cords are going to go out at some point or another- and personally, I prefer sooner than later.

Oh and who could forget the singer? To my left of the far side of the plane who thinks he’s some kind of Pete Wentz [A/N: He’s lead singer of Fall Out Boy…..] but in reality he’s off key, tone deaf, and can’t hear a single sound outside of what’s blaring from his headphones. Not even the incessant banging of his drumsticks against the headrest in front of him.

After that on the annoy-o-meter comes deaf, eavesdropping grandma, ten isles back. She’s dropping in on everyone’s conversations, but the old bat is as deaf as a glass of water, and every time she can’t hear what people are saying she’ll yell louder than I’ve ever heard an old person yell before, only to not be answered by the people she was yelling at, and then keep yelling at them to answer her, and when- or if- they finally do, she can’t understand them, and keeps on yelling at them to speak up.

But above all other annoyances, the one that would make me want to slam my head into a cement wall, rather than sit in this seat another moment: is the jack-arse sitting next to me, that will poke my face if I don’t talk to him, but every time I do talk to him, he makes per'                         verted comments, come on’s, and insinuations.

“Leave me alone.” I growled for the umpteenth time, digging my nails in further to the old dark blue-fabriced armrest.

“Aw come on baby, we both know you want me. You really shouldn’t play hard to get so much,” he reached his hand up to brush away the hair from the side of my face that I’d put there so I wouldn’t have to look at his ugly face I wanted to bash in so bad it hurt, but I pulled away and he retracted his hand like he’d just removed the hair, “people might to start to think that you don’t love me.”

At that moment the crazy little boy ran past me again screaming at the top of his lungs.

“THAT’S IT!” I screeched, and all of coach froze, even the little boy- thank goodness- who I would say had never stopped making noise in his entire life.

I wheeled on him first, “Boy go sit in your seat right now, and shut up for the next two hours of this plane ride- now!” he scurried over to his mother and hid in her shoulder, staring at me frightened from above her arm.

Then I spun on finger-eating freak. “And you, mister ‘I like to eat parts of my body’, how would you like it if someone were to sit here eating their body parts around you for hours on end, not even caring how utterly unsanitary it is?!” Not my best argument, but perhaps he’ll stop now.