The Untouchable

"Flight 320 to Florence, now arriving." A Juicy sweatsuit-clad Charlotte gazed up at the flight board. It was true, her flight was right on time. Her mom bounced slightly, "Time to go! Say goodbye to California!" She had no idea how much those words hurt. Goodbye, love. Hello again, celibacy. She rolled her Louis Vuitton luggage bag toward the gate. "Flight 320 to hell, now boarding." She muttered.

The damn flight was overnight. Though first class was very roomy and somewhat accommadating, Charlotte hated lavatories almost as much as not being able to straighten her hair or fall asleep in privacy. She dozed off quickly though, her iPod playing Coldplay in her head softly.

Brandon walked toward her, putting his hand on her cheek. "Hello Charlotte."
"Brandon? What are you doing here?"
"I snuck on the plane, hiding in the luggage department until the coast was clear. I had to see you."
"I'm missing you already." He took her hand. "Well, I'm here now, the lavatory is right around the corner. What do you say we join the Mile High Club?"

Charlotte's eyes shot open. She sat up sharply looking around and seeing nothing but a bunch of sleepy passengers, some of whom where chewing on those mini pretzels rather loudly. She looked out the window, seeing puffy white clouds pass her by. The pilot came over the intercom. "Bienvienido to Italia! We'll be landing at the air park in about 15 minutes." Charlotte groaned. She hated her life. Her dad elbowed her, already awake. "Look at that, kiddo! I can already see the Eiffel Tower!"
"That's France, dad. Wrong part of the world." He laughed at his own joke, causing Charlotte to roll her eyes. She didn't want to be in Paris either, she wanted to be at home, surrounded by her friends and admirers. She wondered how much longer she could fight this, her parents still had no idea how miserable she was.

The landing was pretty rocky, and Charlotte's small frame shook as the plane finally came to a stop. The captain made another bordeline corny announcement, and everyone began to unload. Tourists eagerly grabbed their cameras and Italian phrasebooks, ready to get started. She wondered if anyone would notice if she posed as a flight attendant and rode the plane back. Her mom grabbed her shoulder, causing her to jump. "Sorry honey, just woke up. Wow! We're here! Can't wait to start sightseeing!" They moved past everyone and out onto the loading dock, leading out into the airport. They got their luggage relatively quickly, and were able to hail a taxi to their villa rather quickly. With her dad speaking fluent Italian, they drove past elaborate buildings and statues until they reached the place. Charlotte had to admit, it was magnificent. "This is marvelous, Jim." Her mom kissed his cheek. "I wish you didn't have to work right away so we could..." Oh yuck. Any thoughts of marvel in Charlotte's head dissapated. Was it time to go back yet? Her dad paid the cabbie in euros, as she believed they were, and arranged for his rental car to be sent to him tomorrow. The antique gray brick structure loomed in front of her, casting a shade across the lawn. It was indeed very pretty, and Charlotte walked inside to look around. Unlike its aging exterior, the house looked like a five-star hotel on the inside. Polished wooden banisters led up to the rooms, and marble covered almost every piece of floor.

"So what do you think, honey?" Her mom came up behind her. "Amazing." Charlotte answered truthfully. "I agree. You can go up and pick your room, if you want." She ran upstairs and chose a smaller one with a balcony that led out with a perfect view of the city. She sat her bags down and went out to it. The weather was warm, with close to no humidity. A light breeze blew through her hair as she scanned everything around her, the perfect formation of trees and rivers coming together in a picturesque way. Charlotte sighed, maybe she could get used to this. Maybe.