The Romantics(66)

Holy. Shit.

It took Gael a minute to find his voice. “That’s coach? One way?”

She nodded, her smile getting just a tad less bright. She could see through him already, he was sure of it. “Would you like me to book that for you, sir?”

“That’s the cheapest you have?” he asked. He’d assumed it would be a little expensive, last minute and all, but a thousand freaking bucks? Jesus.

“It’s the last seat, sir.”

He looked behind him. A line had formed in the few minutes he’d been there. People were beginning to look a tad impatient. So was the formerly perky ticket lady. “Would you like me to book that for you, sir?” she asked again.

He stalled. What the hell was he going to do now? “It’s just that I’m sure my friend didn’t pay that much. I just thought . . .” His voice trailed off.

And that’s when her smile disappeared completely. She stared at him, lips pursed, like he was a misbehaving student in a kindergarten class. “This isn’t Expedia, sir. We’re not a discount service. We’re an airline. And this is a last-minute purchase.”

“I know, but—”

“Would you like the ticket or not, sir?”

Then Gael had a thought, a ray of hope. He didn’t need to go to Baltimore. He just needed to get into the terminal.

The man behind him cleared his throat loudly.

“No,” Gael said. “But is there any ticket I could buy that leaves tonight that’s less money?”

The lady sighed. “What destination, sir?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said.

“It doesn’t matter?” She raised an eyebrow.

“No, see, I just need to talk to my friend, so I really just need a ticket to anywhere.”

She lifted her hands from their resting position on the keyboard and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Anywhere isn’t exactly a destination I can plug into my system, sir.”

“Can you believe this guy?” someone muttered behind Gael.

The counter lady just stared, waiting.

“Okay, Charlotte?” he asked.

Her hands went to work again. After another few minutes: “There’s a nine o’clock flight to Charlotte.” She smirked. “Let’s get straight to the total cost, shall we? Eight hundred, ninety-two dollars and fifty-two cents.”

Holy. Shitballs.

“D.C.?” Gael asked.

He looked behind him. The guy in the front of the line looked straight at him and said, “You’re going to make us all miss our flights, you ass!”

She continued typing. Finally: “Nine hundred, thirty-four—”

“You know what, just forget it,” Gael interrupted her.

And he walked away to the raucous applause of everyone else in line.





sammy sutton unplugged


Sammy sat in a chair near gate C7, almost positive she’d forgotten something.

She’d packed in a rush, even though she’d made it to the airport in plenty of time. But between her hallmate bailing (that was my work, y’all) and having to hit up Mrs. Brennan for a ride, she was a little . . . flustered.

She unzipped her bag and checked it again. Toothbrush, check. Razor, check. Makeup, check. Cute underwear, check. Birth control, check.

She wondered if John had really only made out with that girl at the party before they broke up, or if he’d done more.

The thought hit her so hard it was impossible to ignore: Gael would never, ever, ever have cheated on her. He simply didn’t have it in him. He wasn’t that kind of guy.

She shook her head. This trip was not about entertaining a silly crush she had on a high school student. This trip was about trusting John. Restoring what they’d had. Getting it all back on track.

And yet, she was sure she’d forgotten something.

It didn’t help that her phone wasn’t charged and her stupid charger had finally conked out after being finicky for weeks.

She guessed it didn’t much matter, though. John would be there to pick her up for sure, and he would surely have an extra charger in Baltimore.

It’s not like fooling around on the Internet would calm her nerves anyway.

So she opened up Candide and tried not to focus on the anxiety building in her chest.





r-d-eff you, part two


Gael had developed a new plan.

Sure, he couldn’t afford a ticket, but perhaps he could still get through security. He had his ID. He didn’t even have a bag. He’d pass through the metal detector without a hitch. He just had to convince someone to let him through.

It was 7:15. He didn’t have much time, but he had to at least try.

He walked up to the security checkpoint like nothing in the world was wrong, as if he actually had his shit together and belonged inside the airport. He held up his ID. The lady took it. “Boarding pass?”

Gael tried his best to look young and na?ve. “My dad had it, and he already went through. We got separated. I can get it on the other side.”

She tilted her head down, nonplussed. “I can’t let you through without a boarding pass, sir. You can get another copy at the airline’s ticket counter.”

He bit his lip. “It’s just that I’m going to be late and I really need to just get through.”