“if we walk down this road / we’ll be lovers for sure”—The Other Side by Jason Derulo
“Aaron, we’re going to miss our goddamn flight!” I yell at him as I speed through the airport, only ever looking back to see whether he’s following or not.
He is… in slow-fucking-motion.
If there’s one thing I would not like to deal with, it’s my outraged father when I tell him that I missed yet another flight. He was close to chopping off my head when I missed my flight to get to New York, imagine what he will do if I have to tell him I missed the one back home as well.
This time it wouldn’t be my fault though. It would be Aaron’s and Aaron’s alone. I wanted to get here hours earlier, he said ten minutes before boarding will do.
Clearly it will not fucking do.
They called out for the end of boarding ten minutes ago, that leaves us with approximately five more minutes to get to our gate and on the plane. If it’s not too late already.
“Chill, Icicle, it’s just a flight. We’ll take the next one then,” Aaron says as he—finally—catches up with me. “Besides, we’re not boarding like normal passengers.”
What the hell is that even supposed to mean? Just because he got us first class tickets doesn’t mean the airline gave us some VIP passes that allow us to catch up with the plane mid-air.
“What are you talking about?”
Aaron shrugs.
A minute later we finally reach the check-in and I’m quick to realize that it’s too late. Far too late. Even if they’re still boarding passengers, check-in will take some time.
I sink down to the floor as I watch a couple check-in for their flight, fighting the urge inside of me to cry.
Letting out a heavy sigh, I take out my phone, muttering something along the lines like “I’m texting my father.” Someone will have to let him know that Aaron and I won’t be there tonight but—if we’re lucky—tomorrow morning, or evening. Fuck, maybe the day after tomorrow or even later.
Everyone’s travelling for the holidays, so catching flights is an extreme sport at this point. Christmas might still be a week away, but that doesn’t stop some people from getting to their loved ones early. Like it wouldn’t have stopped me if it weren’t for Aaron.
“You done crying?” Aaron asks, scrolling through his phone like missing a flight isn’t a big deal.
I guess it isn’t. We still have a week to get to Germany and it’s not like we’re missing an important event or something. But think about the money Aaron spent on these two tickets only for them to have been a waste since we’re not even on the plane.
I inhale deeply, slide my hands down my face before I finally choose to get up from the floor. “We have to ask for the next available flight.”
Aaron shakes his head. “Why?”
“WHY?” My hands ball into fists by my sides, ready to beat the living hell out of this guy for being stupid. “I want to see my parents, Aaron. If you don’t want to come with me, that’s fine. You’re not obligated to. But I need to get to Germany as soon as possible.”
He chuckles like all of this is nothing but a game to him. Then he takes my suitcase, continuing to walk through the airport as if he’s about to sneak us on to another plane or something like that.
Maybe I would complain, but I don’t quite remember what I was mad about when Aaron’s jacket slides up and I catch a glimpse of the light-purple-colored ribbon around his wrist. The same ribbon he has stolen from me mere weeks ago.
“I used my best friend privileges,” he tells me as he leads me somewhere across the airport. “We’re flying private.”
Sofia, focus.
I stop in my tracks, jaw dropping down to the floor. Did he just say what I think he did or are my ears lying to me?
“What kind of best friend privileges are those?”
Aaron turns to look at me, smirking. “Colin’s dad is still an NHL Coach, and his mother works as a surgeon, I think. Truthfully, I didn’t think they own a jet but apparently, they do, not that it should surprise me. Have you seen their house?” I shake my head because, obviously I haven’t. “If I had to guess, eighty percent of their flooring is marble. Their kitchen is made of marble, countertops, the island, everything. The stairs to go upstairs have built-in LEDs. It’s amazing, totally something I aim to build for myself one day.”
“You don’t want to go pro anymore?”
He laughs. “Sure, I do. But I don’t study architecture for nothing. The least I can do is come up with a house for myself. Otherwise my degree would have been for nothing, right?” There is a certain spark of determination in his eyes, one I would think is about hockey but could also be about building his very own house.
I’m not even going to question his dreams at this point. What I’ve learned very early on about Aaron, when he’s passionate about something, he’ll make sure to live his dream out.
“Guess that makes sense.”
“Anyway, Colin offered the jet to me when I told him we’d be going to Germany together. Guess it was just his attempt in offering us more privacy because… well, doesn’t matter. I’d be stupid to say no to a private jet all at no cost for me.”
That he would be. Still, it doesn’t keep me from feeling bad. After all, Colin or his parents still pay for the flight, or the fuel, pilot, and flight attendants. Just because it’s free to us doesn’t make the whole experience free.
“What would we need more privacy for?” I ask carefully.
“Conversations, obviously.” He gives me a smug smile, followed by a wink.
“Are we really taking a jet and have it all to ourselves?” Aaron nods, though I still don’t want to believe it.
Only as we reach the private check-in facility, actually checked in, are told where to go next and meet up with the captain of our aircraft do I start to believe it.
