Chapter 2

Martha’s POV
As the plane took off I left my eyes wander around the plane. First class was mainly filled with business looking men and women and a few vacation travelers. I spotted a girl who looked about fifteen sitting with her parents. Other than her, I was the only teenager girl in first class. There were four teenage boys, including Oscar; the boy he had been talking to, the boy that boy was sitting next to, and two boys sitting across the aisle from me a Oscar.
   
“I hate to be a bother,”Oscar’s voice shattered the silence once again, not that I minded. I could listen to his accent all day. “Would you mind switching places with me? I am traveling with those guys,” he nodded towards the boys across the aisle, “and those two.” Nodding to the boys in front of us, he then proceeded to look at me awaiting my answer.

Personally, I preferred the window seat. “Yeah, that’s no problem.” I slid out of my chair pulling my bags toward me. I stepped into the aisle behind the seat as he gracefully stood up and slid out into the aisle in front of our row.
                “After you,” he bowed with a cocky grin on his face.

                “Why thank you,” I laughed and he laughed along, too.

                As he slid back into the row I couldn’t help but notice that his dark wash jeans hung low on his hips and his tight white t-shirt made it look as though he had clearly defined abs.

                I shook these thoughts from my head, considering I didn’t even know him.

                “So what takes you to London?” he asked shifting his body so he was comfortably facing me.

                “School,” I replied. “It’s always been my dream to study abroad.”

                “That’s cool. What are you studying?” he seemed genuinely interested as he made eye contact.

                “I don’t know yet. We haven’t signed up for classes yet.”

                “Oh,” he seemed surprised that I didn’t have a plan, as though if he were in my situation he would know. “What do you want to do after you graduate?”

                “I really want to work for a famous band or something,” I shrugged.

                He shifted his body appearing uncomfortable, “Why is that?”

                “Not for the fame or anything, but for the thrill of traveling on tour with them, managing press, going through routines, working with lighting and sound. It’s always been fascinating to me. Since my concert when I was eleven, it’s what I wanted to do.”

                Liam’s broad shoulders relaxed as I explained my choice, “That’s really cool. Not too many people want to get into the music industry for pure enjoyment. Lots of people do it for money and fame.”

 

                “Those people are lame. I could never work for a band that wasn’t all about their music and their fans. I mean why else would you go into a world where your life is completely out on the line if it wasn’t something that you truly love to do? My theory behind the stars that go bad is that they don’t actually love what they are doing.”

                “That’s a pretty good theory,” he said impressed, “and it makes total sense.”

                “Oh, well thanks. So what about you? London home for you?” I asked wanting to keep the conversation alive.

                “Kind of; I have a flat with my friend in London because that is where I spend most of my time. But I am from Stockholm, which you have most likely never heard of.”

                “No, sorry, I’m just an old American girl. Don’t judge me.”

                “It’s all good. I was considering asking you where you are from but I probably won’t know where it is that you’d be talking about.”

                I laughed, “Well I am from Omaha, Nebraska.”

                “Yep, never heard of it.”

                “That is exactly why I am leaving, however if you even want to go and see a wicked college baseball game, hit Omaha up. The College World Series is the best thing about the town.”

                “I don’t know what that is either…” he grinned a breath taking smile.

                “Do you even know what baseball is?” raising my eyebrow anticipating his answer.

                “Durr!” he laughed. “I have plenty of baseball caps.”

                “Hats, they are called hats!”

                “Yeah whatever.” he laughed.

                “So what university do you go to?” I asked.

                “Oh no, I’m not in school. I’m eighteen and free,” he shook his head. “I hope to go someday but not now. I’m too busy.”

                Happy to know he was eighteen, I didn’t ask him what his job was that took up so much time. If he didn’t tell me, I guess he didn’t want me to know. We were strangers after all.

                “Oh, gotcha,” I muttered.

Just then, the flight attendant told us it was safe to move about the cabin and use electronic devices. I wanted to take out my iPad, but I didn’t want Oscar to think I was rude.

                “I’ll be back,” he shrugged as if it mattered to me. Then, he proceeded to get up and walking across the aisle. He started talking to two other boys.

Oscar’s POV

                “Hey mate,” Felix greeted me as I squatted next to his seat.

                “Hey Felix, hey Ogge,” I nodded.

                “How’s the pretty lady you are sitting next to?” Felix laughed as he glanced over my shoulder. “Is she cool or a total dead beat?”

                I shook my head, “Haven’t gotten to talk to her much, but she seems lovely.”

                “She’s rather fit,” Ogge grinned as he glanced over my shoulder as well. “How old is she?”

                “Eighteen,” I informed them. She was tall and pretty. Her long blonde brown was silky and beautiful and her green eyes were beautiful.

                “You seemed trouble,” Ogge’ eyebrow rose. “You haven’t thought about her at all have you?”

  By her I knew Ogge wasn’t talking about Martha. He was talking about Danielle. We had dated for almost two year before we split just a few weeks ago. She was still always on my mind, but since the break up was mutual there weren’t really any hard feeling. Schedules had become too difficult to deal with. In all technicalities we were on a break; just a break where we could see other people. I’d seen the new pap pictures of her with some drummer boy I had never seen before. It didn’t get to me until I saw her sucking his face. Jealousy and bitterness has never really been my thing, but it all kind of smacked me in the face.

I didn’t reply to Ogge’ question which caused Felix to shake his head. “Then go talk to her, mate,” Ogge gave me a disapproving look. “You are stuck next to her for seven more hours. Might as well get to know her and see if it’s worth giving me your number.”

                “Have you told her?” Felix’s face twisted in concern. “Is that the problem?”

                “No, no,” I stood up defensively. “Why would I ruin anything with that? She doesn’t know who I am, and I am not planning on telling her- not yet at least.”

                “Well then, go get to know her. See if she has a boyfriend, er a girlfriend, er whatever. See what kind of person she is. Go on man!” Ogge was rather encouraging.

                I shook my head at my two loony friends and made my way towards the bathroom. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do.

Martha’s POV
I was contently listening to Backstreet Boys when the blonde haired boy sat next to me. “Hey!” he smiled.

                “Hello,” I said, pulling one earphone out of my ear.

                “Is Oscar being kind to you?” he asked in a rather childish laugh.

                “Oh yeah, you must be his annoying father. He told me you’d come and check on him.” I joked rolling my eyes.

                “Yeah, he’s a real gentleman? I’ve only talked to him for, uh, twenty-three minutes.”

                “I’m just checking. I can’t have him being rude to any pretty girls. I’m Ogge by the way,” he flashed another cheeky grin.

“I’m Martha,” I said taking his hand just as I had Oscar’s. I swear these guys are going to be the death of me. “If you don’t mind me asking, where are you from? Your accent doesn’t sound British.”

                “Ahh,” he laughed, “That’s because I am from Sweden. You know your accents don’t you?”

                I laughed at him, “No it’s just heavier than Oscar’s. I figured if I’m moving to the UK I better get my accents straight.”

                “Oh no, if you are moving to the UK then Brits no longer have accents, you my dear become the one with the accent. Right Omar?”

                A head popped up in front of me. He had dark, dark hair and deep brownish eyes. His smile could kill. He was – goodness gracious – sexy.

                “That’s ‘ight,” he laughed. “I’m Omar, by the way,” he extended a warm smile making eye contact with me.

                “Martha,” I motioned.

                So far this plane ride proved to be the best one I’d ever been on, and we were only forty-five minutes in.