I Won't Forget
Chapter 10
I woke up the next morning
feeling horrible. I thought I’d be jet-lagged but these
days, I was so tired, I could sleep anytime. I brushed my teeth,
washed my face, took a quick shower and let my hair air-dry, and
pulled on my favorite dark wash skinny jeans with a red v-neck
shirt. I wore some golden bangles to finish the look. I decided I
needed to seem happy so Mitch wouldn't feel bad, so I put a
fake smile on. After I grabbed everything I needed, I knocked on
Mitchell’s door. He was almost ready, so I waited about 10
minutes. Of course, Mitchell didn’t want to leave without
fulfilling his promise to me, but I said he’d done his
best, and I thanked him a lot. Mitchell was a great friend, and
he was a giver, but giving had its limits too. It was time to
head home.
When
we got on the plane, Mitch was seated to my right but I noticed
the seat to my left was empty, so I put my purse on
it.
“Uh… Excuse me, I think that’s my seat.”
said a deep voice. I looked up to find a boy- scratch that- a man
who looked about 19 years old. He had dark black curly hair and
warm brown eyes. He was definitely good-looking. Well not
drop-dead gorgeous like people referred to Adam as, but
definitely cute. Mitch probably noticed I was checking him out
because he nudged me in the side.
“Ow! Oh… Um… Sorry.” I mumbled,
grabbing my purse and putting it in my lap. The guy sat down next
to me.
“I’m Zeeshan. Ali.” he said,
grinning.
“Oh! Hey, Zeeshan Ali.” I said stupidly,
“I’m Alisha Giannopoulos.”
“Alisha Giannopoulos.” he repeated. I loved the way
said my name. By now, Mitch was preoccupied with playing Cut the
Rope on his iPod, so we barely even noticed him
there.
“Yeah… I know it doesn’t flow much, but
I’m half Indian, half Greek, what about
you?”
“That’s awesome. I’m 75 percent Indian, but
I’m also part Australian and Palestinian… which
explains why I was in Palestine. I was visiting some family.
I’m still a practicing Muslim though, how about
you?”
“I’m a practicing Muslim too. And oh that’s
really cool. So where do you live?” I asked, then realizing
that I sounded like a stalker.
“I live in New York City, but I’m moving to Chicago
in the fall to go to Northwestern University.” he smiled. I
was stunned.
“N- Northwestern?!” I practically spat in his
face.
“Yup. I just graduated high school so I’ll be a
freshman there. How about you? How old are
you?”
“I’m going to Northwestern too! I’ll be a
freshman too! What’s your major?!” I
yelled.
“Really?! Awesome! I’m majoring in biology. I want to
a dentist. You?” he asked.
“That sounds great! And I actually don’t know for
sure at the moment, I’m still deciding.” I
replied.
“Oh gotcha. So what were you doing in Palestine
anyway?” he asked.
“Oh… Ummm… Well it’s kind of a long
story.” I said sadly.
“Well it’s kind of a long flight.” he teased,
grinning. And for the first time in a really long time, I smiled
back. But this time, my smile wasn’t fake.
