Chapter 16
Owen
I stare at the flight board in the American terminal at DFW. My connecting flight home to Santa Barbara, which was already delayed by two hours, was now canceled.
Fuck.
I’m exhausted. My back hurts from five nights in a crappy hotel bed just outside the beltway. Senator Langford was so busy that I hardly had any time to nail down the details of her memoir. It was a wasted trip.
And I hadn’t talked to Liv since she left my hotel room Monday morning. I had wanted to text her back or call her a million times, but her last message was pretty clear.
I think it’s best if we call this what it was.
If I’m calling it what it was, I thought it was the start of something real, something special.
Something unlike anything I’d ever felt before.
But it clearly wasn’t that for Liv. Maybe my sister was right; maybe I just chase the unavailable damsel in distress, fixing her problems while creating my own.
Maybe she just needed a fake date after all.
I dig through my computer bag for my phone, but my fingers catch on a small, lumpy piece of plastic.
I pull out the Princess Peach figurine I won for Liv at the arcade, turning it over in my hand.
I’d found it on the hotel floor in San Francisco before I checked out and slipped it into my bag, planning to give it back to her that night, back when I thought I’d see her again.
I had only won enough tickets to get her this dumb little toy, but she said it was perfect.
Princess Peach stood with her plastic-gloved hands on her pink-gowned hips, and Liv said she was standing in the “power pose,” standing tall with feet apart and hands on hips—that signals self-assurance.
She said it would be a perfect addition to her desk because it would remind her that when you hold your body like you believe in yourself, your brain often follows.
I’ve rushed into things before, convinced they were real—until they weren’t.
But Liv…she felt different. Maybe I’m just telling myself that because I want it to be true.
I don’t know if this thing between us is everything I think it is—but I know I won’t stop wondering if I don’t try.
Maybe I need to get over my fear and just call her… if I ever get home to Santa Barbara.
“American Airlines Flight 3476 to San Francisco will begin boarding now. Group one, you’re welcome to board.”
My head snaps up to the gate in front of me, then back down to Princess Peach in my hand.
I’ve made dumber calls for worse reasons. And if she slams the door in my face, fine. At least I’ll know.
I take a deep breath, spread my legs a little wider, and put my hands on my hips, not caring that I’m standing like Superman in the Dallas airport.
Then I go beg the gate agent to rebook my flight.