I Promise, I'm Not a Stalker.

Chapter 11

“Please explain to me why I have to drive you to the airport at 3:30 in the morning?” Danielle groaned as I poked her trying to get her to wake up, she threw her arm up in the air, almost whacking me in the face, which I’m pretty sure was her real intention.

“Come on,” I coaxed, “I already put all my stuff in the car, all you have to do is get up and drive.”

She covered her face with her arms and let out a short groan before finally deciding to get up. Her hair shot up in every direction, her manicured hand pick up the keys off the nightstand and we walked outside into the dark and to her small car.

“You sure you have everything?” She asked with a yawn.

“Yeah, I got my suitcase, guitar, everything.” I nodded.

She put the car in gear. I flipped down the mirror and examined my face, I had on no makeup, and my hair was a curly mess. I took the hair tie from around my wrist and put my hair up in a messy bun.

I heard Dani snort.

“What?” I asked.

“Nice self promotion.” She laughed pointing a finger at my shirt.

I looked down at my black shirt that had “Don’t Worry, I’m From The Internet.” Printed on it, along with a drawing of my face done by a fan, the shirt was long and large covering my checkered pajama shorts. I’m going on a nine hour flight, if you think I’m going to get my ass into skinny jeans you are fuckin high.

“Gotta work it,” I smiled.

“You’re a dork.” She shook her head.

“You love me.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

We pulled into the airport parking, she gripped the steering wheel tightly and turned towards me.

“Do you need help with your bags?” She asked.

“Nah, I got them.” I unbuckled my seatbelt and opened the door and hopping out. “Hey Dani?”

“Hm?” She asked.

“Thanks for everything.” I smiled at her.

“Anytime kid, if you ever need anything just give me a quick ring okay?”

I got all my stuff out of the car began lugging them in, tired looking pedestrians and workers shuffled around the airport in a slow kind of hurry, if that makes sense. I grabbed a cart, placing my sticker covered guitar case and suitcase on it and keeping my backpack on my back. I checked both my guitar and my suitcase then made my way through the rest of the security process, no knife jokes this time.

I grabbed my teal Toms that matched my checkered pajama shorts and my backpack out of the x-ray bin and shuffled over to the food court. I ordered a breakfast burrito that was filled with eggs and sausage and potatoes, I stuffed my face with it, letting out a groan of satisfaction.

I walked over to my gate after disposing of my trash and waited for them to call my row to board the plane. When she did, a couple of other people and I got up and handed the flight attendant our tickets. We went through the tube thingy and to our seats, I buckled up next to the window and shoved my bag under the seat in front of me. I noticed a woman go passed me in high heels with her hair curled and in a dress. My eyes widened.

Okay, this is tweet worthy.

I pulled up the Twitter app and took a photo of my makeupless face and my messy hair up in a bun with my face in a “wtf” expression and captioned it.