The stranger casually moves into the spot next to mine, like that’s a normal response. Hey, we’re trapped here, so let’s band together in case there’s a zombie apocalypse.
Odd. And yet I wouldn’t have pegged him as a weirdo on looks alone. Naturally I gave him a once-over as soon as he opened his mouth, in case I need to describe him for a police report later. Clothing: Pale yellow button-down with the sleeves rolled up and the kind of green pants that are less hideous than khakis. Hair: dark brown. Eyes: same, or possibly black. Age: late teens, at a guess. Height: hard to tell while he’s sitting down, though his legs are sticking out pretty far. He’s not sweating or twitching or muttering under his breath, but what guy my age talks to random people in an airport?
I should take out my phone and not engage, but once again curiosity gets the better of me. “Why a pine cone?”
“The Sound of Music.”
“The musical,” I clarify. “With the nuns?”
He lifts a shoulder as if to say,Of course. What else would I be chatting with strangers about in this airport?“The scene where the kids prank her that first night at dinner. That’s a deep cut, though. Let me guess, you’re more of a ‘Lonely Goatherd’ girl?”
It’s so far off base I don’t bother to correct him. Obviously my favorite scene is when Captain von Trapp dances with Maria in the garden, because I’m not dead inside. Unlike his sense of logic.
“How would a pine cone have wound up at baggage claim?” I do a slow pan around the plant-free interior to drive home the point. Not to mention the fact that we’re in Florida, where pine trees are a lot less common than lush tropical foliage.
“Preschool teacher on her way to craft time. Park ranger flying back from Yosemite. Big botany convention.” He shrugs like that’s the tip of the iceberg, guesswise. “I could go on.”
“I mean, sure. Anybody can spitball.”
“Oh really? Enlighten me then. What would you assume, if someone acted like their chair was a bouncy castle?”
“Ketchup packet,” I reply, ignoring his attempt to throw me off my game.
“Interesting.” He turns in his seat so he can study my face like a crossword puzzle. “Let’s hear it.”
I count off the supporting evidence on my fingers. “One, fast food is everywhere. Two, people get snacky when they fly. And three, humans are sloppy and don’t throw their trash away.”
“Means, opportunity, motive. I like it.” Between the smile and the slow nod, it sounds like he’s really saying,I like you.
I catch myself fidgeting with my dress and force my handsto go still. “I would have noticed a pine cone,” I say, like we’re still arguing. “I’m observant.”
He holds out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Observant. I’m Felix.”
I don’t want to be an accessory to the crime of making dad jokes, so I shake my head instead of his hand.
“Am I keeping you from something?” he asks when I check my phone.
“I have a thing to go to. After I get my luggage.”
“Is that why you’re dressed like that?”
I side-eye him.
“I meant dressed up. Except your shoes.”
“What’s wrong with my shoes?” This is my nice pair of Converse. They could be less dirty, but at least they don’t have holes at the toe.
“Nothing! They’re different, is all. From the dress.”
“Do you always give fashion advice to strangers?”
“It wasn’t a criticism. I just noticed the anomaly.”
On the basis of his blush, I decide to believe him. He also looks a little fancy by Florida airport standards, but it’s not like I’m going to comment onhisappearance.
“Do you want to grab a drink?”
“Uh, I don’t have an ID.” Or at least not a fake one. And I can’t imagine the two of us not getting carded.
