The meeting
My cousin and I made a pact when we were 10 years old.
This pact was made while devouring crisps, sandwiched between two slices of bread smothered in tomato sauce, on the golden sands of Wainui beach. Upon graduation we would travel the Pacific together for a six month duration.
Eight years later, in the summer of 2007, I sat down at my computer and booked my ticket. It was happening.
The excitement of freedom and adventure is exactly what two 18 year old girls long to experience.
On a side note, I’ve always been the girl without a boyfriend throughout my dreary schooling life. I understand that I am not a typical girl who was raised and brought up in the mannerism of the A-typical highschool girl, who hangs off the latest victim, and produces god-knows what kind of home-rated entertainment for him… I’ve always been rather unique.. if that doesn’t make me sound special. Special needs.
Anyways, my story in love is one of total chance.
So my cousin and I were halfway through our travels, when we found ourselves surrounded by the skyscrapers and victorian imitation city of Wellington. The best part about this southern tipped city, was the HUGE museum it housed. Not only was it ridiculously enormous, it was free!
There we were, jaws to the floor, shuffling through corridors of abstract art and history, when my eye catches a family across the way. What really caught my eye was the boy of the family. Not only was he wearing a fluro hoodie, fabulously tight jeans, and a fantastic set of retro framed glasses, he had the best hair I’d ever seen.
As Courtney (my cousin) and I drew closer and closer to the family, I managed to lock eyes with this interesting boy. I gave him a radiant smile, and he gave me a heart-stoping smirk in response.
1 week later…
By this time, Courtney and I had managed to weave ourselves from the nothern cities of the South Island, down to a quaint tourist village called Queenstown. Now this is the tourist hub for extreme sports, and basically a village for young explorers who never crave sleep.
The first night of our arrival we decided to hit the town for some good ol’ fashion fun times. The dresses came on, and the clutches came out.. we were ready to paint the town red.
It was still quite early, and we decided to browse through some gaudy tourist stores to pass the time. As we stood on the streets debating which trinket seller to hit up next, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around, and who should be behind me with his gorgeous smirk?.. but the boy from the museum.
“Hi, I recognized you from the museum. I’m Pete, and this is my sister Darcy. Did you girls want to join us for drinks?”
