“I need to do this for my mom and dad.”
“I didn’t know them, but I know they would be so proud of you.”
With each word, her chest vibrates on mine. Tears pool in my eyes. Kissing her shoulder, I pull away.
“I should get some sleep. I leave early in the morning tomorrow.” I sigh, rising to my feet and heading for my bed.
“FaceTime me every day,” she declares.
I nod.
“Update me on everything! Even the stupid little stuff that’s low-key boring.”
I laugh, launching a pillow at her head. “Do you want to know when I pee too?”
She takes the pillow and throws it back at me.
Elijah picked me up this morning and drove me to the studio, where everyone met up. Then I had to separate from him because I wasn’t from either band. His face showed his displeasure, but I pushed him away and acted like I was fine.Watching his retreating back caused anxiety to arise in my gut—something I was all too familiar with from our childhood.
Both bands are in first class, along with Fay. The rest of the crew is packed into economy. It was wild, seeing how large their presence was. The minute they exited the car, people started chanting, almost as if there was a famous-person radar. Paper was waved in the air. One phone was even thrown, and it landed in front of Axel—the lead guitarist for Triple Threat.
I bite my red fingernail, the hood of my hoodie hiding most of my face, as I try to get as comfortable as I can in this small airplane seat. No one has sat beside me yet—thank God. There is nothing more awkward than being forced into a conversation with someone when you just want to sleep.
With my black sunglasses covering my eyes, I close my eyes and try to relax and not think about how crazy my life is going to become. Just as the engine of the plane roars to life, vibrating my feet, my eyes start to feel heavy.
I jolt in my seat when a sudden female gasp sounds in the plane.
“Are you from Times Three?”
Whatever he replies back, Elijah murmurs it while scrunching his body forward. Pulling the baseball cap that always seems to be on his head, he bends to take a picture with a girl.
When his eyes anxiously travel throughout the plane, afraid that someone else might notice him, I immediately know he’s looking for me. Why else would he be out of his seat while the annoyed flight attendants glare at him?
Raising my hand, I wave, and his head snaps up. He’s impossibly hard to ignore as he walks so confidently, each step taken with boyish charm. Elijah’s eyes stay forward on me, not curious, but sensing everyone’s attention.
I turn, and my back hits the window when he plops down into the seat beside me. His lips curve up. It’s not just a smile; it’s playful and mischievous.
“Is this seat taken?”
My mouth drops open. Is he going to sit here?
Nonchalantly, he buckles his seat belt and extends his long legs as much as the cramped space allows. Which is nothing. Glancing around subtly, he notices all the attention on us. Laughing under his breath at my shock, he closes my mouth with a finger.
“I’m wounded by the expression on your face. Is the sight of me that scary?”
“You shouldn’t be here,” I stammer, looking over his shoulder and seeing a phone camera pointed at us. “People are recording us!” I whisper to him.
Turning forward, from the corner of my eye, I see Elijah turn so he’s facing my direction.
“Lulu, look at me,” he coaches softly.
“What?”
The plane rumbles. The panic within my entire body doesn’t dissolve; its panic flames double in size.
“Look at me.”
Brown eyes that I watched grow wiser with age sneer into mine. “You have to stop caring if people look. Because no matter how many layers I put on”—he gestures down at his fully covered body—“people will look, make up stories, film like they’re in a zoo. You should channel your inner butterfly.”
