‘Vikki?’
‘Yeah?’ Vikki answered, bored of Laura’s incessant questioning.
‘Do you think we might meet Westlife?’
‘Westlife? Nope, why do you want to?’ Vikki asked sarcastically, knowing there was nothing more that Laura wanted.
‘Oh’ said Laura. Laura was Vikki’s cousin. You couldn’t tell by looking at them, but once you got to know them it was easy to spot, Laura was a miniature Vikki.
‘Don’t be mean! You can be really horrible at times!’ That was Amanda, another cousin and Vikki’s best friend.
‘Well, there’s no point in telling her otherwise! What else am I gonna say? Oh yeah Laura, Westlife are our tour guides for the fortnight!’
‘You wish!
‘Yeah, I wish…..’ Vikki said scornfully, what was it with these boybands? Laura was mad about one of them, Westlife, Vikki couldn’t see the big deal, a bunch of lads from Ireland who sat on stools and mimed. It was bands like them who gave music a bad name.
As the seatbelt sign came on, Vikki whinced. She hated flying, it wasn’t natural to have a massive object, made of heavy metal, of all the things to be made out of, 30,000 feet in the air. Still, it was worth it, she got to go on holiday with her best friend, to Ireland. Ireland was her dreamland, she loved everything Irish, and had longed to visit since she was tiny.
‘ Are you okay?’ Amanda asked, bracing herself for Vikki’s grip when they took off. Amanda had known Vikki all her life. (Vikki hadn’t known Amanda for that long, they met when Vikki was six weeks old.) They looked, sounded and acted the same on everything except boys, Vikki tended to fall head over heels in love with dark haired, blue eyed lads, whereas Amanda wasn’t really bothered, if someone was nice, they were nice full stop.
‘No.’ Vikki quivered, gripping the armrest and scrunching her eyes shut. Amanda grabbed Vikki’s right hand and winked at Laura. Laura was five years younger than Vikki and Amanda but at thirteen years old, she felt just as old as them.
The plane started to take off and Vikki made a long, low growling noise in her throat.
