“You do, too—you just said I needed to give it to you or you’d reject my apology.”
“Yeah. But you’re inferring Iwantit.”
My nostrils flare. “Because youimpliedthat.”
“Did I?”
I feel like my head is filled with Pop Rocks. My brain is fizzing and spitting. “Are you a lawyer, or something?”
“No, but I have a master’s in criminal psychology and work in the field.” She folds her arms, waiting for that to sink in.
The Pop Rocks in my head abruptly fizzle out. And my ego shrinks just as rapidly.
I’m the absolute worst. I rub my hands over my face, wanting to disappear into my seat.
“So you probably have a good idea what life is like for victims’ families, after all,” I say weakly.
She inclines her head up toward mine and whispers like she’s being conspiratorial. “And the families of the accused, if you can believe it.”
“I’m a jerk.”
“Yeah, the jury’s definitely in on that one,” she says, but she has a half-smile on her face. “I forgive you.”
I could remind her that I didn’t technically ask for her forgiveness, but I’m notthatbig of a jerk.
Instead, I nod stupidly. I look at her delicate hand wrapped around her soda can, noticing for the first time how pretty her fingers are. “You have long fingers for your height.”
A laugh bursts from her lips. “Quite the non sequitur. Do you think before you speak?”
“Usually, I just avoid speaking at all.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“Fine,” I admit. “Itryto avoid speaking. But I typically get too worked up to actually hold back.”
“Well, you know what they say: if at first you don’t succeed …”
I snort. “Words to live by.”
She gives me a wry smile and takes a drink from her soda.
The PA system hisses.
“Good afternoon, folks. This is your captain speaking from the flight deck. We’re currently about halfway through our journey to Denver, cruising at 35,000 feet. I wanted to give you a quick update on conditions ahead. Our dispatch team has alerted us to some significant weather systems moving through the Northeast, which may affect connecting flights once we land.”
Great. Weather problems are exactly what I need. If I miss Granddad’s holiday showcase tonight, I’ll never hear the end of it. The showcase is his annual opportunity to parade the three generations of Fletcher baseball around to convince rich parents to drop fifteen grand on his academy. Yeah, I’m the cautionary tale who only lasted one game, but I’m still proof that his system works “as long as you don’t crowd the plate!”
He adds that little joke every time.
Hilarious.
The captain continues:
“At this time, there’s no change to our current flight plan, and we expect to arrive in Denver on schedule. We’ll keep monitoring the situation closely and pass along any important updates as soon as we get them. Thanks for flying with us today, and please remain seated with your seatbelts fastened while we continue cruising.”
I’m spiraling into family resentment when I notice Poppy beside me. She’s stopped tossing peanuts into her mouth and is listening with her head tilted. When the captain finishes, shetakes a slow breath and nods to herself. What is that on her face? Resignation? Relief?
She grabs her root beer can, and her knuckles are white.
