The line moved ahead of her, and Flicka handed her ticket to the agent. The agent scanned the ticket and handed it back. “Thank you for flying British Airways.”
Flicka trotted ahead of Dieter, the duffel bag banging her hip, and heard the agent say the same thing again. When she risked a look back, Dieter was jogging down the aerobridge to catch up to her.
When he caught up to where she was waiting to enter the plane, she said, “Don’t sit near me. I don’t want to talk to you right now. I need to think.”
“I have to.”
“What?”
“They assign your seat. It’s printed right here on the ticket.” He showed her where her ticket was marked53Aand his read53B.
She scowled at the pieces of paper. “Well, don’t talk to me. I don’t even want to talk to you right now.”
