Delia blushed and threw a handful of popcorn in her mouth in a weak attempt to end the conversation. “Well, I never had a sleepover with Tyler, so.”
“Iknewit!” I squealed, tossing a few extra kernels in the air, buttery confetti raining back down on us. “I knew you were only pretending to have a cold, dead heart. It’s all squishy and warm just like everyone else’s.” While Delia always tried to play the role of the tough, impenetrable fortress, it was becoming moreand more clear that she was really anything but. She was actually a fantastic friend, and that night just proved it all the more.
This revelation gets a stray piece of popcorn-slash-confetti thrown back at me. “Yeah, yeah. Just shut up and accept the fact that we’re besties, okay?”
I knew it, I knew it, I knew it,I continued to chant all throughout the movie, always at the most gory parts, just to make Delia laugh. And after two hours of needling her about admitting our best friendship, it wasn’t until the credits were rolling and we were both dozing off on our respective pillows that I heard her speak.
“You’re right,” she sighed into the dark room. “Maybe you aren’t half bad after all, Olive.”
Thank you,I think I whispered back, or maybe I just thought it as sleep began to pull me under. But regardless, I distinctly remember the sweet glow in my heart at the thought of finally having another girl as a friend who wasn’t forced to hang out with me because we happened to choose the same club or be on the same team. Delia liked me forme, outside of knowing me through my relationship with Tyler.
That was one of the first moments where I felt like I was really starting to belong.
Which makes me wonder why I thought it would ever be a good idea to torch it all.
Chapter Eleven
It doesn’t mean that he doesn’t care about you, past Delia’s voice reminds me now as I stare down the empty aisle of the plane.It just means that he needs a second to process things.
The vinyl seat next to me rustles, Cranky Lady leaning over into my line of sight. “I don’t mean to pry, dear, but it sounds like you’ve found yourself in quite the pickle.”Oh, now she suddenly wants to play nice.
“Isn’t that the truth.” I jealously eye her plastic cup of champagne, wishing it was legal for me to chug a glass and succumb to the warm, bubbly feeling ofnot being on this freaking plane right now.
“To me,” she sniffs in a voice that makes it clear she is offering her opinion whether I want it or not, “it sounds like that boy really cares about you.”
“He does—did.” Talking about my and Tyler’s relationship in the past tense should be second nature by now, but some part of it still gets lodged in my throat. “Sometimes two people are too different and aren’t a good match…right?” I look at my seatmate for validation, the irony of searching for it from a total stranger not lost on me.
She shrugs. “If that’s what you think, sure.”
I’m not convinced by her nonanswer, but I’m willing to take it anyway, until she flips open another magazine and continues speaking.
“But if two people are really meant to be together, no matter how different they may think they are, the relationship always finds a way. You see it all the time.”
I chew this over, thinking back to the nights of Mom curled up on the couch with a glass of wine, crying like her heart was run over by a semitruck. “But sometimes it fails, too. Sometimes you’re perfect for each other, until you realize there are parts that you can’t compromise on. And that’s where it ends.”
We both glance over and watch Tyler emerge from the bathroom and head back down the aisle, cautious and sad-looking. Before he returns to his seat, she throws in one last remark. “The right relationships never fail, honey. Only the wrong ones.” She tucks her head back into her edition ofWoman’s World,lost to the pages full of fad diets and book recommendations, but I’m still mulling over what she said.
Wait.Does that mean she thinks Tyler and I were the wrong relationship? Or that it’s possible we aren’t done yet?
Jack,my brain hisses at me, doling a mental slap upside the head.You’re sitting on this plane, next to Tyler, because you’re on your way to see Jack.
Tyler slides into his seat and turns to me, seeming less agitated than he was a few minutes ago. His skin looks a little shiny and the tips of his hair are all damp—he must’ve splashed some water on his face when he went in there to cool down. Still, even though he no longer looks hurt and angry, he does look a little bit bashful.
“Listen, Olive—I’m sorry about all of that, okay? All of what’s been going on during the flight. Frankly, it’s been a little…weird.” He laughs nervously when I nod. “I want to start off on a better foot, okay? I haven’t seen you in a while, and the past is the past, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t one of my best friends for the longest time. And we’ve still got a bunch of time left stuck next to each other, so we might as well make it a little better for the both of us.”
“I’d like that.” I turn so I’m facing him fully, on board with the idea. “How?”
His eyes sparkle with mischief. “How about a truce?”
I narrow my eyes and shift in my seat, the buckle sliding against my hip uncomfortably as I continue to scrutinize him. “What kind of truce are you talking?”
“One that will help us survive the remaining eight hours of this flight without killing each other.” He leans in conspiratorially. “I have an idea of how we can level the playing field and then go back to being cordial seat neighbors who talk about nothing of substance. In-flight entertainment critiques and snack bag commentary all the way.”
“I’m listening.”
He grins wickedly. “Tell me a secret, one that you’ve never told me before. Preferably anyone, but just me is fine.”
It’s been a long time since I’ve shared any secrets with Tyler, but one comes to mind easily and spills out without warning. “The reason Jack is going to the University of Hawai?i is because he couldn’t get into the Ivies.”
