very room earlier today: the lush green grass, the clear open sky, the rolling ocean and pounding waves… and a pair of light blue-gray eyes and blonde hair. Alex. That was a nice name… Alex.
4
At 8 o’clock Friday evening, Ryland and I kissed Mom goodbye for about the thirtieth time, assured her once again that we’d call every day, and that we’d be good, and countless other things we’d been assuring her for the last three days, grabbed our carry-ons, and boarded our flight to Ireland. Or, more specifically, boarded our flight to Paris, France, at which point we would board a second plane to Dublin, Ireland, after which it was a two and a half hour drive to St Brigid’s. Grand total travel time: only seventeen and a half hours.
Yeah… only.
Though I can admit, the first few hours of the flight went by quickly enough. I read the book and two magazines I’d brought, ate dinner, and played a few rounds of travel Scrabble with Ryland. It wasn’t until about five hours in – what would have been midnight in Pittsburgh – and barely over halfway to Paris, that I realized just how long a trip this was going to be.
I tried to sleep, but it was no use. I was the sort of person who had to be comfortable to fall asleep, and comfort just wasn’t happening. Not that I could complain about our seats. We had actually been very lucky as the flight wasn’t anywhere near full, which meant that after takeoff we were all able to spread out. I had a two-seat row to myself, Ry had the row behind me, and Alex and Taron had the five-seat row next to us to share between them. Despite the space however, I couldn’t settle. I tried lying down, reclining my chair, leaning against the wall of the plane, crossing my arms on the tray table, and countless other configurations; nothing was comfortable for longer than a few minutes at a time. The tiny airplane pillow that was lumpy on one side and totally flat on the other wasn’t helping things either. Too bad I wasn’t more like Ryland who was sprawled out on his back, covering both seats in his row, one leg up in the air resting on the wall of the plane while his head hung off the base of the seat, dangling in what would normally be leg space. Honestly, a little turbulence and he’d be on the floor, but at least he was sleeping, which was more than I could say of myself.
I stared absent-mindedly at the map of the Atlantic Ocean and the little cartoon plane that was supposed to represent us on the TV screen in front of me. There was a red line trailing behind the little plane showing the route and distance we’d traveled so far, and a green line in front of the plane showing the route and distance yet to go. Ryland had gotten a kick out of this and kept measuring the lengths of the two lines with his fingers as if to prove to himself that the plane was in fact moving.
Too bad I wasn’t so easily amused. I didn’t want to read anymore, wasn’t interested in any of the movies that were playing, and couldn’t very well play travel games by myself, which meant there was nothing but five hours and thirty two minutes of long, empty space in front of me. All day I’d had activities and people to occupy my mind, but now, with everyone sleeping and nothing else going on, my thoughts kept drifting to the one subject I’d been consciously trying to avoid all day.
Alex.
After two days of sideways glances and daydreaming, I finally had to admit that I had a fairly substantial crush on this guy, and I was not about to become one of those girls who got all goofy and obsessive about a guy they barely knew. I was terrified that if I didn’t get this under control I’d end up like a character on one of those terrible reality shows that basically have no plot at all besides who’s crushing on who, who’s sleeping with who, who’s cheating on who, and so on. The day that became me, would be the day I checked into a nunnery.
Yet, diligent as I tried to be, there wasn’t an hour that had gone by since leaving the house this morning that I hadn’t caught myself staring at him, or