Vacation Styles

*Five- Spite Me*

"Excuse me."

I feel my body slowly move back and forth from somebody's hand on me. I'm too tired to open my eyes, so instead I groan and flinch away from whoever's hand it is. Who's even trying to wake me up? Why can't they just let me sleep?

"Excuse me, you need to get up now. The pilot needs everyone off the plane." A unfamiliar woman's voice makes me shoot open my eyes, once I heard the word "plane" come from her mouth. I quickly turn my body in the chair towards the stewardess, who looks very annoyed by me. Her arms are across her chest and her eyebrows are deep and sewn together. I grow confused as I hear how quiet it is around us and I scope around the cabin and grow even more puzzled when I don't see anybody else on the plane. I look, thinking I was going to find Harry sitting beside me, but I was wrong when my eyes captured the empty chair.

"Sorry to wake you up, but you need to get off the plane, now. We finally arrived." The attendant speaks again and I look at her before standing up from my comfortable chair. I can't believe I didn't wake up on my own when we landed. I'm usually not that deep of a sleeper. The lady in the aisle moves out of my way, so that I can reach the over-head cabinet and sure enough Harry's stuff is gone while mine is laying flat all the way to the back of the shelf. I let out an annoyed huff as I realize that Harry could have woken me up, but no- instead he left me alone. Who does that?

After grabbing my belongings and muttering an apology to the flight attendant and the pilot by the plane door, I made my way down the hallway entering back into the airport. A small window in the hallway comes to view and I take the chance to look outside of it while I was quickly passing it. I didn't get much of a sight, but I could see white flakes coating the window and flying around in the air outside.

I picked up my pace until I was completely back into the airport. A big sign saying John. F Kennedy International Airport came to sight, informing me that we were now, in fact, in New York City. It seemed like such a short flight. Maybe because I slept the whole way there.

I began to worry when I realized that I was alone, having no clue where Harry is. All the scary possibilities came swarming in my mind and I could start to feel my hands sweat from being so nervous. I continued my way down the airport, bringing out my phone to call Mr. Styles. I hope Harry totally didn't ditch me or something. I have no idea what to do. Mr. Styles said that Harry has all the address of the place we are staying at. I entered the part of the airport, where all the food was placed once I dialed Mr. Styles phone number. I should've really asked for Harry's number along time ago.

The phone rang as my shoes clicked along the tiled floor and I grew more nervous when the phone went to voice-mail. Just as I was about to panic, brown swaying curls captured my eyes. I searched the owner of the familiar hair and realized that it was Harry. I could only see the back of him, but I remembered the shirt he was wearing and the way it clung to his body. I noticed that he was standing in line at the McDonalds and I managed to roll my eyes and pick up my pace to reach his side.

Once I reached him I stood right next to him and gave him a deadly stare waiting for him to notice me. He had his arms folded across his chest as he studied the big menu on the back wall of the small McDonalds. As he felt my presence he turned his neck and only glanced at me for a second before turning back to the menu and staring it down more.

"Do you think I should get the Big Mac or the.." He began to speak and trailed off his sentence before squinting his eyes and leaning forward to read the large print on the menu. "Or should I eat the spicy chicken sandwich?" He stares down to me, waiting for an answer.

"Why did you leave me on the plane?!" I raise my voice to show my irritation, but he doesn't even acknowledge it because he just looks away from me again before bringing a hand to his chin.