“I love that show.”
“Yeah,” she says, removing her earbuds. “Me too.”
She smiles and turns toward me.
“So, what makes Meagan want to deal with a boatload of badass kids? Who hurt you so badly?”
“Ha ha. Not hurt. I just want to make a difference in the lives of dirtbags, Troy.” She winks.
“Nice one.”
The drinks cart makes its way toward us again. Last time, the flight attendant attempted to remove my elbow with it. I’m not going to let that happen again. This time, I’m ready.
“I like working with kids. I used to be one, you know.”
“I did not know that. You learn something new every day.”
“Is this your first trip to Spain?”
“Yep. Dad took my brother and me to Paris last summer. That’s the closest I’ve ever been to Spain. I already knew about the Camino, though. I read about it and watched every movie I could find. It’s a bucket-list item for me. It actually begins in France. Did you know that?”
“Yep,” she says. “I walked the entire route last summer. Probably around the same time you were in Paris with your folks.”
“Not folks. Just my dad.”
“Oh, I’m sorry your parents are split. That’s always hard to—”
“Oh, no, no. They’re not apart. They just think it’s important we spend time with them individually. After Paris with Dad, we went to London with Mom. My brother Avery and I traveled from one place to the other together. So Dad had Paris with us and by himself and Mom had London to herself and then with us.”
“Hmm. Interesting. Sorry, I just assumed. That actually sounds quite amazing.”
Drinks cart attendant approaching. I try to remain aware. He’s still a ways back. I have time to save myself.
“We like it. My brother and I, that is.”
“So it’s just the two of you? Older or younger?” Meagan asks.
“He’s older. By three minutes. And he lords it over me every single day of our lives.”
“Ooh, twins. Twins have always fascinated me.”
“Trust me. We are anything but fascinating. No secret handshake. No eerie twin senses. We’re as different as they come. I mean, he likes girls, Meagan. Ew. Just, ew.”
“Hey, watch it, bucko. I happen to be a girl. I don’t think we’re all that bad.”
“Oops. Sorry. But you know what I mean.”
“Ha. Yeah. Oh, watch yourse—”
“Ow!” He got me again. Goddamn it.
“Oh, my goodness. I’m so sorry. I just can’t stop hitting you today,” the flight attendant says. “I’m usually a really good driver. Here, take an extra cookie, darling. Don’t tell the pilot. He’s just looking for a reason to throw me off this bus.”
Now I’m giggling too much to worry about my elbow.
“That’s okay. Didn’t hurt. I’m good.” I try to stop rubbing the pain away. I don’t want him to feel bad or know I’m lying.
“What will you have, sweetie?” he asks.
“Ginger ale?”
“Sure thing,” he says. “Coming right up.”
“What am I, chopped liver?” Meagan asks. She’s smiling like mad, though. The guy has an abundance of charm.
“Honey, please. I always talk to the handsome ones first. You’ll wait your turn or you’ll get tomato juice. Understand?”
“Fresh,” Meagan says, as an admonishment.
“Girl, all my drinks are fresh. I promise you that. That’s what keeps them coming back to my yard.”
Now we all laugh, as do a few of the passengers around us. It’s always this way on planes, isn’t it? A camaraderie happens. It’s kind of nice.
“Hello,” comes a screechy little voice from the seats ahead of us. Did I mention Claire has streaks of wild color in her hair? Blue, pink. Back at the airport I thought she might be interesting—before she opened her mouth. She didn’t take Meagan’s ground rules discussion too well. “You gonna entertain them all day or are you gonna move on and serve us? Sometime today?”
“Missy ma’am, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were thirsting. Let me get this nice woman a drink first and I’ll be right with you, shall I?” He says this with a nicety that is so filled with sarcasm, Meagan and I look at each other and laugh some more. Then the flight attendant winks at Meagan and asks, “What will you have, dear?”
“Just a Coke for me, please. Sorry about her. She’s a bit on the edgy side. Those two are with me. I apologize.”
“No need, dearie.” He bends close to us, as though he’s doing so to pass Meagan her drink and not to diss Claire. “We can’t be accountable for the bad manners of others.”
“Thank you,” Meagan says.
The attendant moves on. My elbow is still intact. I like him too much to care about being smacked. It’s probably my fault anyway.
“Finally,” Claire says. I realize, not for the first time, that I want to smash her in the face. I already know I will not be girlfriends with this one. She’s a bit too nasty for my blood. I hope to God there’s a nice girl on this trip. It would suck to have to spend the entire walk with just guys. I don’t really get along well with guys. Well, straight ones anyway. Even more especially, hot straight guys.
“Well, Troy,” Meagan says. “We’re about halfway there. I think I’m going to try to catch some rest. I suggest you do the same. It’s tricky with the time difference. Jet lag. The first day or so is going to be a bit difficult adjusting, especially since we’ll hit the ground running. If we sleep for a while now, we might beat the lag.”
“Okay,” I say. “I could probably sleep.”
She leans forward and taps Greg on the top of the head. He pops his face over the back of his seat, pulls a hot pink earbud out of his ear, and looks at her quizzically.
His hair. Gah. Long, straight and blond. Typical beach bum surfer dude. One of the many looks that work for me. My God, the boy is more beautiful than a boy has a right to be. I try not to stare at him. Nothing makes a straight boy more nervous than being goggled at by the gays. I don’t want to blow it with him before we know each other, but he’s just so gorgeous.
“You should catch some shuteye,” Meagan tells him. “To beat the jet lag.”
“Sure thing, Meags.” His Colgate smile blinds me. “Just listening to tunes. I was probably gonna crash anyway.”