That came out wrong. Attending formal—oh, you know what I meant.
Anyway, thanks to stupid Giles Bigly, I’m now keenly aware that Will is about to board a plane on which at least half of the passengers will want to shag him. Not that it’s any of my business. He’s off to have another adventure and I’m off to do exactly what I’ve always done, even if the royal reins have been loosened and I’m starting to be known as someone with enough grit that, instead of people comparing me to my mother, they’re comparing me to my feisty gran.
But the crap thing about getting exactly what you want is that if you let go of the person you want to share it with, it doesn’t seem to matter that much. And I know logically I did the right thing for both of us by ending it with Will. He’s now able to be free and follow his dreams, and I’m able to know without a doubt that I have the strength to stand up for myself and hear my own voice. Only that voice keeps telling me I missed out on my one chance for a life with the man I love, and that if only I hadn’t acted so rashly and if I’d trusted my strength, I could have made it work. But it’s too late because he’s probably boarding the flight now and I’m about to squeeze into this gown (and I mean squeeze because the late-night junk food fests aren’t nearly as good for the waistline as late-night shag fests), plaster a fake smile on my face, and pretend I’m happy.
Oh, whatever, you big baby. Get on with it.
I trudge over to my dressing room and go in search of my boring beige heels. No one will see them and the truth is, they’re probably a lot more comfortable than some gorgeous four-inch Valentino Garavani pumps.
Ah, there they are, Old Beigeys, waiting for me on the shelf, like the faithful shoes they are. Nothing wild or scary about them. Just nice fitting and dependable, like the sort of man I should find. Maybe I should see if the Earl of Wemberly is coming. He may have gotten his breath fixed by now after he found out what I said about him on the telly.
Maybe not.
33
Would You Rather…
Will
“Okay, people!”Dylan calls. “It’s time to board the party plane! Whoops, I mean the plane full of the world’s best survivors.”
The group starts to pick up their bags and file toward the ramp, excitedly chatting to each other. I should be more thrilled than I am. I just finished having a ‘would you rather’ conversation with E.J. Snyder and Les Stroud about which would be less appealing: being stranded in Antarctica with Paris Hilton or being dropped into a well filled with Arizona bark scorpions. Les went with the scorpions. He’s not wrong.
Iamhappy, but not in the way I thought I’d be. There’s this underlying sense of blah that I cannot shake, no matter how hard I work out or how fast I run.
I end up in line next to Veronica and Dylan. “Hi, Veronica, Dylan,” I say with a polite smile.
“Hi,” Veronica says.
Dylan leans in. “I was just saying to Veronica that if ever I’m going to be on a plane that crashes,thiswould bethe onebecause it’sfilledwith incredible people who can bring us all to safety.”
“Sure, unless the plane explodes in the air,” I say casually. “Then there’s really not much anyone could do.”
“Well, that was a little macabre,” Dylan says, laughing and hitting me on the chest. “Are you the dark horse in the race?”
“I have no idea what that means,” I say. Turning to Veronica, I smile. “Are you excited to be starting out on your new venture?”
“Oh my God, yes,” she says. “If I were still on the news desk, I’d be covering that boring gala at the palace tonight. I bet you’re not too sad to be missing that, are you?”
That’s a loaded question. How do I answer that one? “Yeah, I’m not exactly a suit and tie kind of guy.”
“Was Arabella upset that you aren’t going with her?”
“Oh, you know her, she’s such a trouper. Not one to complain.” I suppose at some point, I should stop pretending we’re still a couple, but to be honest, if people assume she and I are still together, it’ll make this trip a whole lot easier. The last thing I need is any sort of romantic anything to mess things up. Clearly, I don’t make good decisions when I’m in love.
“I heard through the grapevine that Arabella’s going with her gran,” Veronica says. “Those two are so sweet together, don’t you think?”
“Very.”
We step through the door of the plane and are greeted by the flight crew, who are all lined up, looking slightly wary of the excited energy boarding the aircraft.
“Okay, people!” Dylan yells. “You will see that we’ve placed pieces of paper with your names on the seats. You are not allowed to sit near your partner on the flight because we don’t want you strategizing before we get there. Find your name and take your seat so we can get going!”
I scan for my name, hoping I’ll be sitting with Mykel Hawke. He seems pretty cool. Actually, anyone but Dylan or Bear would be good. He and I haven’t spoken yet, but he certainly gave me a look in the airport that showed he most definitely heard what I had said about his backpacks during the show. Awkward.
I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn to see Veronica is still with me. “Look, we’re sitting together!” She points to our seats about halfway along the plane.
“Brilliant,” I say. “Window or aisle for you?”
