Soon we’re boarding the plane, and I’m so excited I don’t think about him anymore. We’re all sitting in business class, which is bigger and nicer and has two seats per row instead of three. I check the ticket in my hand, hoping I’m sitting next to Keanna, but I see her sink down in the seat next to Jett and I realize that of course we wouldn’t be together. Aiden and Zach sit next to each other and Marcus sits next to an older woman who isn’t with our group.
I look at my seat number. C2.
And then I see my seatmate.
Clay.
He’s already sitting in the aisle seat, so I’ll have to step over him to get to my window seat. His head is leaned back against the seat, his eyes closed, while he listens to his earbuds. I suppress an eye roll and open the overhead bin. None of the guys have any luggage because the Team Loco rig arrives with it and the dirt bikes, but Keanna had a backpack that she shoved under her plane seat.
I have to lean up on my toes to fit my bag in the overhead bin, because at five-foot one inch tall, I am practically too short for everything. While balancing on my toes, I manage to shove my bag up there. Then I realize another problem. The door of the overhead bin swung upward when it opened, and now it’s too high for me to reach and pull back down.
I stretch as tall as I can possibly get but my fingers are just a little too far down. Silently, I curse my mom’s side of the family, who have all passed down the ultra-short genetics that have put me in this situation. I glance around, but business class is pretty empty this early in the morning and everyone on Team Loco is already sitting down, half asleep.
“Jett?” I whisper toward him, but his eyes are closed. Keanna is snuggled up against his arm, but I try whispering her name anyway. She doesn’t turn around.
I look back at my overhead bin, wondering if I can find a flight attendant or something. If Clay wasn’t sitting in the aisle seat, I’d crawl up on it, but obviously I can’t do that now. Kicking him in the leg would not help our very cold relationship.
I gaze up helplessly at the stupid bin.
“Need some help?”
I don’t even recognize the voice because I guess we barely talked the last time he spoke. His voice almost sounds friendly, if you didn’t know better. Clay is watching me, a curious but amused expression on his face. I step back, my butt hitting the empty aisle seat behind me. “Do you mind?” I ask sheepishly.
He smirks and stands up, filling the empty aisle space with his height and the smell of his cologne. I don’t know what brand it is, but it’s something fresh and crisp, probably with the words mountain, cool, or ocean in the title. With his phone in one hand, he reaches up with the other and snaps the lid closed. It takes two seconds, if that.
Then he moves out of the way and watches me. I realize, stupidly, that he’s waiting for me to slip past him and sit in my window seat.
“Thanks,” I mumble, before doing just that.
The refreshing scent of his cologne hits me again as he sits back down. He’s so tall, his knees almost press into the back of the seat in front of him, whereas I have plenty of room. I guess there are some advantages to being short.
I notice he doesn’t say anything after I thank him. No “you’re welcome,” or “it’s no problem.” You know, stuff normal people say. Clay is cold and quiet and keeps to himself. It’s a little weird, especially since the other guys on Team Loco are all pretty outgoing and fun. I feel like we all got to know each other last night at dinner, and everyone seems to like me. Except for Clay.
So Fate decided to be mean to me and make us sit together. Cool.
I settle into my seat and stare out the window as the plane begins to taxi out to the runway. I understand how everyone else is so tired—it is just after sunrise after all—but I’m too excited to sleep. This is my second time flying in a plane and although we’re just going one state over to Louisiana, it’s something. You can’t see the world unless you start somewhere, right?
I eagerly watch the ground as we take off, and everything below gets smaller and smaller. It’s exhilarating, being in an airplane. Once we’re up in the clouds, I settle back and take my phone out of my pocket. My headphones are wrapped around the phone, and they’ve gotten tangled up from being in my pocket all day. I work to untangle them so I can watch some of the Netflix shows I downloaded last night.
By the time they’re untangled, I notice something that’s not good. The cord is frayed where it meets the plugin on my phone. Crap. I put the earbuds in my ears and open up Netflix, but as I suspected, no sound is coming out. I wiggle the frayed cord, trying to find a position that will make them work.
But it’s useless. They’re ruined.
I noticed the rubber of the cord starting the crack the other day, but I thought they’d be fine. I have no other headphones. I’m not about to be that jerk who plays loud videos on her phone on a plane. Luckily the flight is only an hour long, so I’ll just have to suck it up.
With a sigh, I yank the broken earbuds out of my phone and crumple them up in my hand. Then I set my phone in the pocket on the back of the seat in front of me.
Clay’s hand reaches across the armrest that divides our seats. He opens up his palm, and there’s a single wireless earbud in it.
I look over at him, wondering why he’s offering me a single earbud. He holds up his phone. “Wanna listen?”
I swallow. He’s offering me –well, maybe not friendship, but something. Something better than being cold and aloof toward me all the time.
I take the earbud and put it in my ear. Clay’s music fills the silence. It’s some kind of slow hip-hop song. I’ve never heard it before, but I like it. This music fits him. I smile gratefully at him.
His lips twitch just the slightest bit and then he lays his head back against the seat again. It wasn’t exactly a smile.
But it was better than nothing.
