“I’m good, thank,” I said to the flight attendant walking up and down the aisle offering beverages to the passengers. I was close to finishing my large coffee, but I was pretty set.
We’ve been up in the air for a good forty-five minutes, and things were going smoothly. After the ear popping takeoff, I stuck my earbuds in and read. Divergent was first on my (personal) summer reading list, and so far, I liked it, a lot.
If I was there, I would like to think that I would be Amity. I thought that I would fit in best with that one not being super smart, or brave, or painfully honest. Creativity and serenity was more something I would lean towards. While some would say the ring in my nose and the phrase leading from one forearm to the other reading “Dum spiro, spero ad vitam aeternam” would make me a dauntless, my bravery wasn’t exactly my superiority. I wasn’t too outspoken, and a lot of times you could find me keeping a lot to myself. Was it due to fear of judgments and lack of self-confidence? Mostly. I lacked those things in some ways, but with the façade that I could faintly put up, you may not be able to tell.
Dum spiro, spero ad vitam aeternam was Latin for As long as I breathe, I hope for eternal life. The sentence read on the outer parts of my forearms that my mom was not too pleased with when she was first informed. She began on this long tirade about how I shouldn’t have done it—especially without her consent. She told me that tattoos were a mistake that I would soon regret since they last forever. It was as if she didn’t think I took that under consideration when getting it. It was the only set of ink that I had for now, and who knows, maybe the only ink I’ll ever get. It hurt like a bitch, but it was bearable, I guess. But I liked the idea of the art and seeing it on my canvas like skin.
Next to me, Cassadee was writing things down in a notebook that looked a lot like music notes. She hand drew the clefs and lines using her laptop with each musical notes’ sounds. It was as if she was playing her piano but on her computer. She had her headphones on, so it was impossible for me to hear what she was creating.
Cass planned on writing and making music in the (near) future. That was her passion and calling. She could spend our playing different instruments; her favorites being guitar and piano. Her computer was another instrument in which she downloaded some program where she can practically play it without physically having the instrument present. Her composition notebook was full of loose papers and covered in notes, lyrics, and ink. Some she wrote, and some were just some of her favorites. Sometimes she would just break it out and write whatever was at the top of her head in it not wanting to lose the thought.
Cass was music, and I preferred art. Drawing, painting, sketching, and designing were some of the things I found more interesting. I would get these sudden urges where I could draw something and actually feel confident in it while others were the total opposite. It was like I could only draw at certain times and that was it. I would think too hard and turn it into a mess. Others, I would actually feel good with some of the things I did. They would turn out well or even better than I thought. It was strange but just how it was. I was still in the mix of learning different more techniques and skills, because in the grand scheme of it all, I was no Picasso or Mona Lisa.
I didn’t want to interrupt her, so I turned my attention back to my book. I wasn’t too far in, which made me a little disappointed in myself. I just began chapter six where Trice just chose the Dauntless faction over staying with her own. It was one of things were I expected it but didn’t see it happening. She claimed that she not the selfless person that she was forced to grow up and be. She was brave, and she was a divergent.

The landing was bumpy, but once we got to the ground and came to a stop, I was relived. I was glad I would be able to get out of this tight tube. Overall, the flight wasn’t bad at all. There were no hysteric babies or obnoxiously snoring elders. It was pretty simple and quick.
I didn’t understand the process of leaving the plane, but somehow Cass managed to drag me out into the aisle and we pushed through until we were able to breathe entering the airport.
It took for me a minute to take everything in. It hit me that I was in a whole other state with just me and my best friend getting ready to spend the rest of the summer with my dad. It became real at that moment. I didn’t know where to go or what I should be looking for. The place wasn’t as large as the one in New York but still pretty large. People were rushing around frantic to make their plane or casually taking their time entering stores or waiting for their flight. But me? I was standing their oblivious to what was going on.
“Should we get our bags?” I asked Cass who seemed just as much out of it as me.
“Sounds like a plan,” she replied.
I pointed out the arrows leading us to where baggage claim was. Without that, we probably would have walked right into an international traveling plane sending us right to Germany.
Luckily for us, there were plenty of maps and arrows that made us feel like we were following the yellow-brick road. I would be the Lion, him being my favorite, and Cass would be Dorothy. I only would say she would be her is so Sulley could be Toto. I could imagine her in the dress and clickity shoes with the braid trying to bring Sulley around places.
“So we wait?” I said as more of a question than a statement. I’ve never had to do this on my own before. I usually had my mom with me. While of course she explained in great detail this whole process on what to do numerous times until it was cemented into my head, but when the moment came, it was as if she hadn’t slipped a word.
“I’m assuming…oh wait look!” I watched as she hopped over to the revolving machine grabbing one of her suitcases. She could tell by the green and blue ribbons that that was hers. Mine were the hard shell red ones, so they wouldn’t be too hard to spot.
It took long enough for all of them to come out. It would be nearly impossible for us to carry three bags each plus guitar without tripping to our death.
“We need to find some sort of cart,” Cass said reading my mind. Again, this was my first time at this, and it was as if any sensible person would be able to figure this out perfectly without much problem. But this was me we were talking about. I could barely drive my way to the mall without getting lost let alone an airport.
“Where we gonna get one of those?” I asked which was pointless since she was already jogging to the other side of the room grabbing exactly what would solve our problems. She wore a big grin pushing the cart with a force before hopping on and riding it over to me.
I held my hands out giggling stopping her from running into me. “You’re lucky you didn’t hit anyone,” I said putting the luggage on the cart.
“You were the target, but I didn’t get a good enough leverage.” She shrugged her shoulders following placing her guitar on top of the pile. I hit her arm playfully with my mouth agape. She pretended to be hurt, “and I was going to let you ride on it.” Cass shook her head. I was not willing to pass up the chance to ride on it with her pushing me around.
“All is forgiven,” I smiled a cheesy grin hopping ride on having to sit on one of my suitcases. She walked around to the other side grabbing the two poles pushing me along. I had to hold onto the pole, so I wouldn’t fall off. It was as if she knew exactly where to go, because somehow, we ended up in the front of the airport.
I got up from the cart wishing I didn’t have to. We looked around aimlessly when I heard my name called. “Stella!” he said. I turned, and there my dad was jogging over to me with a smile on his face. I haven’t seen him in months. I was glad I was finally able to.
My parents didn’t have one of those intense divorces. It was mutual and fighting wasn’t they did. They were tired and wanted different things. My mom wanted to go to an art school in the city while my dad would rather be a part time painter on the beach. He was a school teacher during the winter being an art major. I guess you can assume how my parent’s hit it off and where I get my interests from. Me and my colorful family.
So they decided that things just weren’t the same and maybe it was time that it ended. I was nine, and I’ve never seen my mom so distressed when it was over. I lived her and only saw my dad every once in a while. They were still on decent terms with each other having no real hard feelings which is different from a lot of divorced couples. I was lucky that they didn’t hate each other too much were it emotionally affected my too much.
Of course it was hard to grow up without my dad. I would be lying if I said it wasn’t. I remember when he left. I was hysteric begging him not to leave. He told me that I would see him again real soon and he had to leave. My mom made sure that I was okay, and I mean she would do whatever it took. It was like there was a sudden surge in her. She was trying so hard to make me forget about it, but I knew that she was trying to forget it, too.
I was only nine, but I knew well enough. I asked my mom, “mommy, are you okay?” She simply looked at me with a weak smile nodding. “Do you miss dad?” I asked. It was last and only time I saw her break down about him. She cried said that she missed him, but she knew she would get over it with time. She continued to apologize for crying in front of me, but it was okay. I knew now that she loved him, and I never wanted that. I never wanted a life of love to end in a divorce. Even if it wasn’t bad, I wanted eternal love.
My dad was remarried and my mom was now seeing someone. My dad remarried six years after the divorce, and he’s been with Carmen for almost four years. If I’m not mistaken, it took two years until he started seeing her while seeing her for four before proposing. I only ever met Carmen a handful of times, but I liked her. She worked at the school with my dad teaching some sort of science.
Michael was a guy my mom met at the grocery store believe it or not. They bumped carts once before running into each other in line again. It was either they had the same shopping schedule or fate was trying to tell them something. It took three times to run into each other there before he asked to take her out. The candy aisle jokes never seem to stop, and this has been going on for three years.
I was happy for them. Michael was a great guy, and even though he’ll never be my dad, he was great for my mom. I remember my mom nagging me wondering if I was fond of Michael or not claiming that she wouldn’t date him unless I was okay with it. It was crazy, but I understand about her wanting to keep me happy being an only child. I adored Michael, and I told her that. “Promise?” she would ask. “Swear. I know how much you really like him,” sixteen year-old me responded, and I meant it.
“Hi,” I smiled once he approached us. He instantly wrapped me up into a hug. I automatically felt better about seeing my dad again.
“Dad, this is Cassadee,” I said once pulling away from the hug. He meant Cass once or twice when he visited, so I was hoping that he remembered. He did agree that she could come with me.
“Oh yeah, hi, how are you?” he asked her.
“I’m good, you?” she asked back.
“Good, happy to see my little nugget,” he ruffled the top of my head, but since I had a hat on, it didn’t do too much.
“Why don’t we get these bags in the truck and head home,” the smiled never left his face as we helped him load the bags into the back of his pickup truck. I liked the way he said home. I knew it was home. Even if it wasn’t a high up , city apartment, I was willing to make it a home.

Notes

I'm sorry this story starts off slow, but please bear with me I'm trying to keep it at an okay pace. It'll start up soon, so please stick it through(: I'm sorry if it's pretty boring so far. Please give me some feedback on it so far and lemme know what you think so far. I promise it'll pick up soon. But thank you for reading it, and I hope it's not too bad so far aha

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