“Christ, what do you have in here?” I asked as I threw my own duffel behind it.
“I didn’t need your help,” she said stubbornly.
I scanned her frame. She came up to my chin, which meant she couldn’t be more than five foot three, even with her chunky white sneakers. “You been training with powerlifting or something?”
She jutted her chin and tilted her head down, an obvious display of her lack of amusement.
“I got it here,” she grumbled.
We walked robotically through the scanner before grabbing our bags and heading toward the shuttle to the terminals, which like the rest of this hellhole, was overly crowded.
I leaned against the wall and held onto the bar overhead. Lila could barely reach, and when the train started to move, she lurched forward. Without thinking, I reached out and grabbed her waist to steady her. My fingertips brushed the tiny sliver of skin exposed by her cropped sweatshirt. Her skin was so soft I had to fight the urge to stroke it.
“Careful,” I said, before she stepped hurriedly out of my grasp.
“I’m fine.” Her flustered appearance indicated otherwise, but I wasn’t about to mention it. Not when I was already skating on paper-thin ice.
At our stop, we rode the escalator up to the terminal in silence. My brain scanned over any and all possible conversation topics to repair this uncomfortable crack between us. Lila and I weren’t friends, I had made sure of that. She’d always found me irritable and likely a displeasure to be around, but now I was concerned her feelings were developing into outright revulsion. And for whatever reason, I didn’t want that.
The terminal greeted us with giant boards displaying departure information. People moved in every direction, rushing to get to their gates. While I stood by what I said earlier—airports were a nightmare and stressful as hell—Lila’s perspective had me seeing it through a new lens. Each person there was on some sort of journey, whether it be mundane or once-in-a-lifetime. I felt that energy now, the one that whirred through everyone that passed. We were all in the same place, yet everyone’s lives were so completely different I couldn’t even fathom them. Like, who the fuck was going to Charleston on a random Tuesday evening?
Lila twirled around without warning, nearly causing me to crash into her. I hadn’t realized how closely I was trailing her.
“We don’t have to stick together.” Her tone was curt and her narrowed eyes were arctic.
I winced, feeling guilty that I had ostracized Lila so badly that she wanted nothing to do with me. Usually that was the goal. Keep my guard up to distance myself from anyone and everyone. But Lila really didn’t deserve all of the insensitive comments I’d thrown her way in our yearlong acquaintanceship. Not even close.
I slung my duffel over my shoulder and scratched the back of my head. “Look, Lila. Can we just?—”
“It’s no big deal, okay? We’re just two people with mutual friends who happen to be on the same flight. It’s not like we have to make small talk, or hang out together.”
Her voice shook slightly despite her upturned chin. She was nervous. The realization made me feel like an even bigger prick. Intimidation was my signature style, but making Lila uneasy felt a lot like terrorizing a bunny rabbit.
I tried again. “What if we just?—”
“We’ll be on the flight soon enough,” she cut me off, looking down the terminal as if she were searching for the quickest escape route. “Then we’ll land and be reunited with the rest of the group. Then we hardly have to speak to each other.”
Lila’s face contorted into an expression of indifference, but I didn’t buy it. She hated that we didn’t get along. It was written all over her face. She likely wanted nothing more than to have an airport buddy to grab dinner with before the flight, one who would match her energy and be content chattering away about all the possibilities for the upcoming trip.
But she was also obviously over trying to connect with me, and I couldn’t blame her in the slightest. I should be grateful that she was finally letting me off the hook, but instead, I felt a sinking sensation in my gut.
“Okay,” I said. “I guess I’ll see you when we land.”
SEVEN
Lila
“You’ve gotto be kidding me,” I groaned.
“Hello again,” Harrison said, as he stuffed his ratty duffel into the overhead compartment and tossed a sketchbook onto the first-class seat next to mine.
“I should have known they’d stick us together.” Even though the seats were massive up here, I still curled myself toward the window to distance myself from him even further.
“I’m so sorry. Am I cramping your first-class style?” He gave me that smug closed-lip smile that I wish I loathed but instead gave me butterflies.
“Not even you could ruin this for me,” I shot back.
And it was true. After we’d separated, I had gotten a few snacks and a new book. The prices at the airport were expensive, but I couldn’t resist. I loved the ritual of wandering the terminal before a flight and picking out a new vacation read. If I hadn’t ditched Harrison, I’m sure he would have droned on about how it was a waste of money.
