6. Harrison
SIX
Harrison
A shoulder bumped into me as I clutched my small duffel closer to my chest. If there was one thing I hated more than the Denver airport, it was the packed train to get there. Crowds were decidedly not my thing, and I had yet to see the Denver airport not overflowing with obnoxious, likely incompetent, travelers.
Patience was not a virtue I held dear. Witnessing someone struggling in the TSA line, their baggage spilling out as they held up the people behind them, made me see red every single time.
The train pulled into the airport station, and I lingered near the doors, ready to step off as soon as they opened. From the moment I hit the walkway, I used my long strides to my advantage to distance myself from the throngs.
One thing I could be grateful for was that I was doing this part of the trip alone and not with the rest of the group. At least I didn’t have to make idle small talk. Oliver had been a little pissed when I told him I couldn’t leave yesterday with everyone else, but I’d had an appointment on the book with a long-time client that I didn’t want to reschedule. Nathan couldn’t care less, though, and the travel agent had booked me on a later flight without any issue. Now I got to navigate the airport alone. The idea might not have appealed to some, but to me it was a huge fucking relief.
The security line was surprisingly short. It was a good thing, too, because the whole area smelled strongly of some sort of disinfectant. Although it should have been an indication of cleanliness, it just made me feel sick.
“Boarding pass.” A middle-aged woman in a blue TSA uniform looked right through me as she held up her hand.
I scrolled through my emails before selecting the one that had my travel information, but I couldn’t find one with my trip confirmation and boarding pass.
I muttered a curse under my breath as I stepped to the side and checked the time.
Charlie had been adamant that this whole thing would be a surprise. I couldn’t even imagine being so disgustingly rich that I could just book my friends a bunch of first-class tickets to some exotic destination, where we’d surely be staying at some five-star accommodation. But the lack of information meant this whole surprise trip thing had gotten old. I just wanted to get to my gate and get settled in.
I could feel eyes on me. I whipped my head around only to see a familiar redhead. We made eye contact before she tore her gaze away to pretend like she hadn’t been staring at me.
Fantastic . What an unfortunate turn of events.
Lila stood there, just behind the security belt barrier, wearing a fuzzy, light pink hoodie and matching sweatpants. I hadn’t seen her since that painfully awful encounter at my shop, and the deep frown on her face now told me she wasn’t thrilled about this unexpected reunion.
That day at my shop, she’d been trying so hard to connect with me—it had been written all over her face. That hopeful look, tossing out small details about herself, waiting for me to respond with a friendly ‘I know what you mean,’ or ‘I’ve been there.’ And I’d had no reason to deny her that simple courtesy. She’d been nothing but kind and helpful from the moment she’d walked in. Her smile had been genuine, a clear sign that her usual irritation toward me was entirely my doing, not hers. Lila would’ve gladly been my friend if I’d let her.
And for whatever reason, the impenetrable forcefield I had spent my entire life crafting saw that as a threat. I’d lashed out.
I could admit that I had been an ass that day, and I knew I should apologize. But despite what Oliver thought, the two of us didn’t have to be friends. I was more than fine with never speaking to her again. But here we were, apparently both late to this spectacle of a trip.
I closed the gap between the two of us.
“What are you doing here?”
“Are you serious?” She lifted her gaze for a moment only to roll her eyes before looking back at her phone. “I’m obviously here for the same reason you are.”
“I meant, why didn’t you leave yesterday with everyone else?”
“A work thing. I had to present something to a new investor this morning,” she said dismissively.
I shifted from foot to foot. “Were you really planning on ignoring me?” I asked, even though I knew I completely deserved it.
“I didn’t see you.”
“Yes, you did,” I challenged.
She glanced up at me for a moment, only to narrow her eyes. “Fine. Yes. I was planning on ignoring you. Now can you just go be somewhere else so I can have some peace?”
Discomfort surged through my body. My bad behavior had gone too far last time. She knew it. I knew it. But apologizing was not a skill in my wheelhouse. Still, I had to say something.
“If this is about what happened at my shop, I’m sorry, okay?”
“Great,” she mumbled dismissively.
I looked up to the high, pitched ceilings and sighed. “I’m serious. I’m sorry.”
I waited for her to respond, but when it was clear she was done talking to me, I held up my phone instead.
“Any idea how we’re supposed to board the flight when we haven’t gotten our itineraries yet?” I asked, hoping her shell would crack a little. Lila wasn’t an angry person by nature. Grudges weren’t her thing.
She continued scrolling on her phone, still refusing to look at me. “Charlie wanted it to be a secret until the last possible minute.”
“It’s stupid, is what it is. We’re just supposed to wait around until we get our boarding information?”
Lila huffed and shoved her phone into the black belt-bag slung across her chest. “It’s not stupid. It’s fun. Ever heard of the concept?”
“Oh yeah, it’s real fun standing around waiting like an idiot with no direction.”
“If you had bothered to read the emails, you would have known that we’ll receive our itinerary two hours before take-off, which she told us was at five-thirty.” Lila paused to check her phone. “So based on that information, we should get it in approximately four minutes.”
The color-coded, two-page email Charlie had sent through the travel agency had, unsurprisingly, gone straight to my trash folder. I had fully planned on just gleaning all the details from Oliver, a plan that had worked out well for me historically and would have been fine for this, too. Until I had to stay back an extra day.
“Why are you even here so early, anyway?” She pursed her lips and gave me a once-over. “You seem like the type to roll up to the gate right as they announce last call for boarding.”
“I don’t fly much,” I admitted. Lila’s assumption about me couldn’t have been further from the truth. Control was something I had difficulty relinquishing. And because this whole scenario made me so anxious that I had a rash creeping across my neck, I’d made sure to get to the airport early.
“Huh,” was Lila’s only response as she continued to assess me, her gaze lingering on my beat-up duffel.
“What?” I asked, agitation creeping into my voice.
A large group of people swept by us to enter security. The line snaked as it got busier. It was torture having to sit back and watch it while we waited.
“You got a bathing suit in there?” she asked.
“Yes.” Oliver had at least been able to give me the highlights from the packing list.
“Interesting.”
“Why?”
“I’m just trying to imagine you relaxing on a beach, and I can’t do it.” She looked past my shoulder as if there was a screen there portraying the scene she was imagining. A smile crept onto her lips.
“Believe it or not, I do own a bathing suit.” Just one. I’d only worn it on two occasions. Both had involved Oliver dragging me paddle boarding last summer.
“Hmm...I’m still struggling to picture it.” Lila stroked her chin with her dainty fingers. “Be honest. Have you ever relaxed a day in your life?” She was goading me. Honestly, it was an improvement to being ignored. Although I could sense the resentment underneath her teasing tone. I probably owed her a better apology, but I didn’t know how to go about it.
“I’m always relaxed.”
She tilted her head back and laughed. “I find that very hard to believe.”
Our phones dinged. I pulled mine out of my back pocket, hoping it was my itinerary and boarding pass.
“Finally,” I grumbled, when I saw the new email from the travel agency.
Before I even had a chance to open it, let alone read it, Lila gasped, throwing a hand over her mouth.
“No way!” she exclaimed, so loudly that a few people near the TSA entrance turned their head to look.
“Don’t make a scene,” I hissed. I hated having eyes on me, especially in a large public space.
I opened the email to see what had set off this flurry of enthusiasm. It took me a second to look past all the numbers and times to find the actual destination on the pass. When I did, my jaw went slack.
A round-trip ticket to Santorini, Greece.
“Europe,” I said, eyebrows raised. This was unexpected. While this whole display had seemed overly elaborate from the start, I still hadn’t envisioned us traipsing all the way across the Atlantic Ocean.
“This is absolutely insane,” Lila gushed. “I’ve always wanted to go.” Her soft green eyes glistened.
A patter started up in my chest when I absorbed her genuine delight. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen anyone that excited about something. A tiny tear brimmed at the corner of her eye before trailing down her cheek.
I nearly shot back. “Are you crying ?” I asked, horrified.
“Shut up! I’m happy.” She swatted my chest, her glassy eyes immediately hardening as they trained on me. “Geez, are you going to suck the fun out of everything for the entire travel day?”
“I’m not the one crying.”
Her eyes squeezed shut and she blew out a breath before gripping the handle of her pink carryon-sized suitcase. She rolled it past me without looking up. This was arguably not off to the best start.
I slid into the line and lingered behind her. Voices buzzed all around us, but her silence was so loud it left a ringing in my ears.
“You know, the words fun and travel day should be an oxymoron.” I couldn’t stop myself.
She turned, brow crinkling. “Are you kidding? What’s more exciting than an airport?” She said the words without a hint of sarcasm. “Everyone here is excited to be going somewhere different, taking a break from their lives. They could be visiting a family member, going on the trip of their dreams, moving somewhere new.” She pointed at a family outside the security line, hauling a cart brimming with luggage. “The possibilities are endless. There’s energy everywhere.”
I snorted. “That’s the most romanticized bullshit I’ve ever heard in my entire life. The airport is stressful.” Aside from the occasional trip home to see my parents, I didn’t travel much, and I preferred to keep it that way.
“It’s thrilling,” she shot back.
“No, it’s not.” I stepped forward so that she was next to me. “Because even people who are excited about the end destination don’t want to deal with the hassle of the airport.”
“Well, I happen to like the airport. Hassle or not, it breaks up the monotony.” Lila rolled her suitcase next to her with a little more aggression as we came to the front of the line.
“I’d take monotony over this, any day,” I insisted. She either didn’t hear me or chose to ignore me. I’d bet on the latter.
The TSA agent waved us forward and Lila walked up.
“Families can come up together,” the agent said in a bored voice. Lila turned her head back to look at me before realization sank in. She frowned.
“We are not together,” she said with a little more disgust than I liked.
The TSA agent just shrugged, looked at her ID, and let her continue.
I followed suit, the whole time trying not to look at the sliver of stomach that poked out from under Lila’s sweatshirt as she shifted her backpack off her shoulder and onto the conveyer belt.
Before she could reach down and get her suitcase, I moved into the spot next to her and grabbed the handle. I grunted as I lifted the small but shockingly heavy luggage onto the belt.
“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.”