Someone I Used to Know - By Blakney Francis Page 0,120
which she regretted more: not taking Declan up on the offer to come get her in Mr. Hoffman’s private jet, or once again leaving Hannah’s assorted pharmacy un-scavenged. Wanting to distract herself, she peeked out the window and flinched, quickly averting her eyes. The one thing she had taken Declan up on (a window seat) had turned out to be a terrible decision. The boundless blue of the ocean below made her feel like the plane was one jolt away from becoming an episode of Lost.
She had agreed to the small upgrade Declan insisted on, because she thought it would keep her from feeling claustrophobic on the fifteen-hour flight, but now she felt more suffocated than ever, blockaded from the open air by the three people taking up the rest of the seats on her row.
“Nervous flyer?” the teenage girl directly to her left inquired.
The girl focused pointedly on Adley’s clenched hands. She matched her two siblings sitting in the seats beside her. It wasn’t hard to tag them, along with the two adults sitting across the aisle, as a family, especially when she had six hours of time to gather evidence. A little boy, no older than seven, was passed out between the girl sitting beside Adley and the other girl claiming the envious aisle seat. She looked to be in her late teens, which looked to be several years older than her sister.
She nodded her head stiffly, careful to guide her gaze anywhere but out the oval window.
“I’m Jill.”
“Adley,” she responded briskly, if for no other reason than to distract herself.
Jill leaned down and shuffled through the open backpack at her feet until she came up with a notebook. She flipped it open, and copied Adley’s name onto the paper.
“Um what are you doing?” Adley implored, a new type of anxiety racing through her veins.
Jill looked up questioningly, but it only took a second for her face to turn horrified. “Oh my God. I’m such freak! I swear I wasn’t like trying to steal your identity or anything…It’s just that I’m a writer. Or, at least, I want to be a writer someday, and whenever I hear a cool name or a name I’ve never heard before, I write it down…I have a whole list on my laptop back home.”
Adley grinned, amused at her ramblings. “It’s okay. I promise. I was just confused is all.”
Jill didn’t look convinced.
“It’s Adley.” She spelled it out by each letter, just to assure her it was okay. “Adair”
Jill quickly jotted down the surname. She looked over the two names sitting side-by-side in ink. Her bottom lip jutted out in the slightest of pouts.
“I’ve always liked alliterations. Jill Pennington just doesn’t have the same ring to it.”
Adley shrugged. She’d never given much thought to the merits of having both first and last names start with the same letter.
“Hey, who knows?” A cheerful idea sparked behind Jill’s eyes and spilled into her mood. “Maybe one day I’ll name a character in one of my books after you, and it’ll become famous…How cool would that be?”
Staring at Jill, she searched for even a hint of irony on her youthful face. There was none.
“Yeah, real cool,” Adley finally replied with a hefty dose of understated sarcasm.
The little boy shifted in his sleep, moving to prop his face against the other girl’s arm. Jill lit up with affection when she looked at him, but it only took a second for the clearly eldest sibling to jerk away, complaining about drool. She shifted in her seat as far away from the undisturbed child as possible, before going back to the movie playing in front of her.
“We’re going on a family vacation,” Jill said, noticing her watching the interaction. “Dad has always wanted to go, and it’s Izzy’s last summer before she goes off to college…She’s pissed because she wanted to go to Mexico with her friends. I don’t see how anyone could be disappointed about going to Australia though. Even if you were going for work or something…Is that what you’re doing?”
“Actually,” she braced herself to use the word she still couldn’t get used to, “I’m spending the summer with my boyfriend. He’s working down there.”
“Lucky!”
She was saved from responding when they brought around another meal. She’d given up keeping track of which one it was supposed to be: lunch or dinner. They ate quietly, making small talk, and afterwards, when a yawn overcame her, Jill politely let the conversation trail off.