Page 20

My father’s been a stranger to me since I was a kid, and I’ve been quiet and distant with him after I arrived and found my solitude on the beach. The first two weeks of school hit hard, and I’ve spent most evenings alone and studying in my room, including this entire weekend. My dad gives me a tight smile and a hug goodbye, and I head to the trunk to grab the single small piece of luggage I brought with me.

Five days is not a long trip.

I trudge over to where Jade and Nigel are patiently waiting for me. Jade looks shiny, as usual. Her hair has an extra bounce today, layered over top of her spaghetti strap yellow summer dress that’s a bit too tight on her. She’s fussing with her camera bag with her luggage placed in front of her.

Jade looks much better than I do. Her skin is sun-kissed, and she very much fits in with New Ocean. So does Nigel, who has on a blue argyle collared shirt and khaki shorts, and his token bowtie, of course.

Nigel frowns when he sees me in my basic jeans and tank top as I drag my suitcase over to him. He wanted me to dress sexier, but I don’t know how. I’ve never really cared much for clothes, and I spent most of my life in ballet tights, anyway. Plus, I need comfort. It’s a long flight north. I brought Maison’s hockey sweater with me, to wear on the plane cause it’s warm and I get cold easily.

I give them a curt smile, squinting as the late evening sun shines right into my eyes. We go to the charter flight terminal, check in, pass security, and reach the tarmac. The heat hangs in the surrounding air.

The hockey players are already here. Both teams, junior and senior, attend this tournament, along with the cheer team, us three from the newspaper, and two coaches. The athletes are in full suits and ties that cut right to their muscled bodies, and the cheerleaders are in branded New Ocean athletic wear, with Naomi at the helm with her signature ponytail.

My eyes draw straight to the airplane, which seems much bigger than expected. We aren’t that big of a group, and this plane looks like it could carry our entire school, rather than just an elite part of it.

“We sit in the very back,” Jade informs me as she notices my eyes widen at the size of the plane. The front rows are reserved for seniors, followed by juniors, and then the cheer team sits in the middle.

Of course they do.

“Why is the plane so big?” I ask them, “There are only like what… forty of us, total?”

Nigel slides up next to me. “Cargo. They bring crates of supplies up to Alaska since we don’t fit the entire plane, and they cargo load at the bottom. It usually heads off to a remote community after they drop us off.”

Makes sense.

I notice approximately ten crates lined up near the luggage.

The group moves toward the plane, and we fall in line behind them. My eyes draw to the twins as they stand together in the front. I can’t tell who is who, but they look amazing in their pressed dark blue suits, and it makes it hard not to stare. It’s criminal how good they look.

One of them turns to face me, as if sensing me. He looks me up and down, chewing on his bottom lip, and I feel on display as he doesn’t hide the fact he’s staring back.

It’s Maison, I’m sure of it. He gave me that look in the hallway and parking lot. After he turns his head and smiles as if knowing he made me uncomfortable, and gets off on it. I don’t know why he’s looking at me like that—it’s not like the cheer-team isn’t doing everything they can to capture their attention.

Right next to him, and just as tall and lean, Micah stands more assertive in his motions, with his harder edges, and pays me no attention.

Subtle differences, patterns, and personality in movement.

I’ll keep watching them.

The group finally boards, and we are the last to step inside. The supply crates seem to have more status on this airplane than we do as we wait and sweat it out till everyone else is seated, and the crates get loaded beneath. Jade and Nigel slip in ahead, and I walk on the plane, enjoying the blast of air conditioning as it hits my bare shoulders. Keeping my head down, the cabin is filled with shouting and laughter, and I slam into what feels like a steel wall. I look up as a broody face and deep brown eyes stare at me intensely.

I flinch at the hostility seeping out of them, as if my true intentions on this trip are branded on my forehead.

Micah lifts his arm and presses his hand up in the overhead compartment, further blocking any way to get past him. He makes me feel like a bug he’s waiting to step on. “Maison tells me you want an interview,” he says.

His voice is deep and raspy, like Maison’s was in the hallway, and he smells amazing. Only his voice has a razor-sharp edge, and I realize this is the first time I’ve heard Micah speak.

I keep my eyes locked on him, despite my knees buckling beneath me at being so close, and hints of his aftershave tickle my nose. “That’s right. I just need ten minutes of your time.”

He shifts his body, his messy dark brown hair falls just above his hard eyes. Gold specs flicker as his pupils flare. “It’s not fucking happening.” The first row is quiet now, watching us. He’s close to me, and his body language is nothing but that of pure intimidation as the fingers of his free hand curl into a loose fist. “I don’t want any more stories written about me.”

I instantly regret thinking how hot he is while he’s in the middle of humiliating me. I choke on my words, glancing at his fingers only inches from my hips, wondering what it would feel like should he reach out and grab me. What Olivia felt in her final breaths while with him.

“Micah, man.” Maison’s voice breaks the tension between us. “Calm down, dude. Let her on.”

Micah relaxes and my body composes itself. He steps back and lets me through, but his jaw tenses and eyes follow me as I walk by. The whole interaction was maybe ten seconds, but…

Jesus.