Sugar. (H.S.)

a change is gonna come.

"Good Afternoon folks. This is your pilot speaking. We are beginning our descent into London-"

The pilots voice buzzes over the loud speaker. I groan quietly and push the sleeping mask off my face. I wasn't exactly sleeping because I've never been able to sleep on planes, but I couldn't pretend to stay awake any longer either. Ten hours is too long to be sitting in one place, even in first class. I finally, guiltily, relent to the prickle of anxiety on the back of my neck and squeeze a glob of Purell onto my hands. Then I put my gloves on.

We taxi onto the runway and I switch my phone on. Five missed texts from friends back home, and four from Poppy. I swipe her name and bring the phone to my ear. She answers on the first ring.

"Bea!" She sings into the phone.

"Hi Poppy." I coo.

"I've missed you already. The house seems too big without you."

I laugh into the phone because she doesn't need to exaggerate. We've lived in the same house our entire lives but I can no longer remember a time where it felt like home. Too big, enormous really, and uncomfortably quiet. It always unsettled me.

"I'll be home for winter break before you know it." I soothe her. The illuminated 'seatbelt on' sign darkens, and people around me start to move. I unbuckle the seatbelt. My stomach rolls and paranoia tingles its way up my spine. I rebuckle my seatbelt. Unbuckle. Rebuckle. Unbuckle. Rebuckle. The man across from me stares in confusion and I stop. I stand, grabbing my bag tightly, and weave through the other first class passengers.

"It's only September. Thats four full months. What am I supposed to do? I thought you loved me B?"

"I do Poppy. I'm sure you'll find something to keep yourself busy. Or someone." I say absentmindedly, nodding politely to the air stewardess as I step off the plane and navigate towards baggage claim. Poppy has had a slew of boyfriends ever since she became old enough to dress herself.

"I suppose. You should come home for Thanksgiving. Also guess what, Charlotte said Millie has already been texting Ian. Can you believe that? I thought she was supposed to be your friend."

I roll my eyes. Ian was my on-again-off-again boyfriend for several years. I didn't let him close enough to ever feel attached, so he was never anything special. We broke up before the end of our senior year. It was a comfortable relationship but I knew it would never last. Millie, on the other hand, was supposed to be a close friend.

It's surprising actually, that I was even able to have a boyfriend at all. Most people with OCD are worried about contracting deadly diseases from everyone around them, which, as you can probably imagine, makes having romantic relationships incredibly difficult. I've always found mine manifested a little differently. I'm the one spreading germs. I'm the one who kills someone if every single germ is not scrubbed off my hands. I'm the problem. Nobody else.

"That's Millie for you. I'm not surprised." I sigh.

"Yeah well she better watch the hell out for the next time I see her."

I bite my lip to keep from laughing.

"Oh yeah? What are you going to do Poppy." I say teasingly. The thought of Poppy posing a threat to anyone is downright laughable. The girl weighs 90 pounds soaking wet.

Poppy scoffs, sounding offended.

"I could rough her up. Maybe not physically. But mentally."

"Sure baby." I giggle. "Anyway I have to go now Poppy I see my bag! I'll call you tomorrow kay? Love you P."