AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Thank you,” I say to the Uber driver as he starts to pull my luggage from the trunk of his blue Prius at the departures curb for Denver International Airport.
I help him because I’ll be lucky if I’m not over the weight limit for this thing. It’s packed to within an inch of its life. The zipper looks like it’s barely holding it together. I didn’t know what to bring, so I chose to overpack instead. Dozens of pairs of underwear and socks because I kept coming up with scenarios in my head about why I’d need them. Several bathing suits because it’s Hawaii. Outfits for each day, pajamas, and my dress for the wedding. Where I really overdid it was the five different pairs of shoes I stuffed in, that I deemed essential.
I realized, as I was sitting on the bag to get it to zip shut, that I’d never make it on one of those survivor-type shows.
“Have a good trip,” the Uber driver tells me. He’s a nice older man with white hair and a bumper sticker on the back of his car that says,I go to a great church. I didn’t ask him about the church, but I should have. I could use some Jesus in my life right now. I need to pray for all the things. That I won’t ruin Nadia’s wedding. That I’ll make it through these next few days with Grayson. That he’ll have temporary amnesia and forget what happened on Saturday night. Or that I’ll find a time machine and go back to Saturday morning, where I fake sick and don’t go to the party at all. Easy stuff like that.
I wait just outside the United counter for Grayson, in a white T-shirt and joggers with my hair thrown up in a bun (I aim for comfort when flying), feeling like a ball of nerves as I wonder how it’s going to be with him. Will it be awkward? Well, this is me we’re talking about, so it will definitely be awkward. But will he be uncomfortable because of Saturday night?
The flight leaves at 11:09 with a two-hour layover at LAX (the best flight we could find with the short notice and the busy travel season), and then a nearly six-hour flight to Honolulu, getting us there around 5:30 in the evening. That’s ten hours of possibly awkward travel time with Grayson. I’d like to amend my prayers to add being miraculously upgraded to first class so I don’t have to sit with him.
The good news is I’ve been so worried about this part of the trip that I haven’t had even a moment to worry about how I’m going to ruin Nadia’s wedding. I’m telling you, there really is a bright side to everything if you look for it.
I feel my stomach do both a sinking thing and a butterfly thing when I spot him walking toward me with black aviator glasses on his face, rolling a black suitcase behind him. He’s not in his normal white button-up shirt, but rather a black T-shirt and jeans.
To be honest, he doesn’t look that great. He looks tired and worn out and I’m totally lying, he looks amazing. Why couldn’t he resemble a gremlin? It would make this week so much easier.
“Hey there,” I say as he approaches. The feeling of his hand on my back as we danced Saturday night flashes through my head, and I stuff the memory into that box I’m keeping in the back of my mind. The one labeledDenial.
“Hey,” Grayson says, giving me a smile without teeth.
“You ready for this?” I ask, pretending to be the cool woman I’m not. So far, so good. Although we’ve only said a handful of words.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he says, reaching up to remove his glasses. “Did you check in on our app?”
“I did,” I tell him. “No problems. Worked great.”
This time, I can see his straight white teeth when he smiles. “Worked great for me too. Shall we?”
Okay, this isn’t too bad so far. I think if we only talk about work and never anything else, we’ll be fine.
We walk to the counter and check our bags. I’m one pound under the limit, so that feels like a win. Grayson did give me a curious look when he put the bag on the scale for me.
“Did you bring books?” he asks.
“What?”
“In your bag,” he says, pointing to the overstuffed monstrosity that was doing a teetering thing on the scale, ready to fall over at any second.
“Oh yeah, books. Can’t leave home without them,” I say, nodding my head in rapid movements.
In truth, I brought seventy-five pairs of underwear. Not really, but there’s way more than necessary packed in there. Honestly, the five pairs of shoes felt like the most gratuitous part. But I couldn’t leave home without them.
I hoist the straps of my carry-on bag—the one with my laptop—onto my shoulder, and we head toward TSA. The line isn’t too long for a busy summer travel week, and I say a prayer of thanks we don’t have a long line to wait in. The less time we have to talk, the better.
Soon we’re through security and taking the escalators down to the train that will take us to our gate in Concourse B.
While we wait for the train, to avoid talking, I take out my phone and respond to a text I got earlier from Nadia, who left yesterday for Hawaii. I never even got to tell her what happened on Saturday night. And now I’m in my denial phase, so maybe I never will.
Nadia: You ready to see the BILK in his swim trunks this week? Do you think he’s a Speedo guy?
Me: Don’t you have other things to be thinking about right now?
The little dots appear as she writes me back.
Nadia: I’m sitting on the beach right now, listening to the waves. So, no.
Me: Must be nice
