GENRE: YA Fantasy
It takes twice as long to go through an airport when your passport has to be read in Spanish. My time in the US had taught me as much.
The security officer at LAX eyed every page of my passport like he was reading a psychological thriller. I checked my watch again: 14:45. The gate closed at 15.
For the love of Einstein, I just wanted to make my flight.
I had to make that flight.
“Are you sure you want to go?” Behind me, my father tightened up the straps of my backpack, sliding yet another tissue pack into my outer pocket. You know, no emergency Kleenex can’t solve. “I mean, it’s Cairo. It’s so unsafe.”
“We live in Los Angeles.” I scanned the line of people taking off their shoes and belts in front of us as the giant analog clock on the wall struck 14:47. At this rate I would miss my flight, which meant I’d miss my chance to change the world.
“So?” he said.
“So we live in—” I sighed, waving my hand in front of his face. No use explaining this. Every place on Earth was unsafe for his not-so-little daughter, traveling without him for the first time. “I’ll be fine. It’s only for a couple of weeks. I promise I won’t join a militia.” My father smiled a weak smile.
The comment earned me a grunt from the officer. He uncapped a red pen and scribbled on my tickets. Hell if I wasn’t seconds away from being deported.