“Such a bitch,” one of the teens said under his breath.
My eyes went to him. “It makes me a bitch that I planned ahead and purchased the seat that I wanted?”
The teen rolled his eyes.
“This was an upgrade for us, too,” the mom explained, sounding miffed. “When we talked to the ladies at the check-in desk, they were able to upgrade them all but one.”
“I guess you should count your family lucky that you were able to do that.” I took my seat.
The family was very loud.
And even worse, they made one of the teens go to their seat in coach.
I would’ve never done that to my kids.
How would you even choose which one to send back there?
What assholes.
Speaking of assholes, one of the teens took a seat directly behind my pod-shaped seat.
He started kicking my seat the moment he sat down, and I gritted my teeth, determined to force myself to deal with it.
But the entire boarding, the kicking persisted, leaving me fuming mad.
I knew why the kid was doing it.
He was pissed that he couldn’t sit with his sibling.
Well, I really didn’t give a flying fuck.
Truly, I didn’t.
What I did care about was the fact that I paid for this seat, because I was flying to Japan, and I wanted to do that in comfort.
What I didn’t want to do was sit there for the entire flight and allow them to kick my seat.
That was eighteen hours I would have to deal.
And let’s be honest.
There was a reason that Gavrel told everyone who would listen that I had a short temper.
He said it was because I was Asian spicy—i.e., extra short.
God, I missed my brother.
I missed him even more since I was making this trip alone.
Kick.
Kick.
Kick.
I gritted my teeth and tried to deal; surely, he’d get over it, right?
But nope.