“Loading zones ones and two,” I heard over the intercom. That was us. I stood and she followed suit, taking a long stride for each one of mine. We stood silently side by side but her carry-on carry-on was obviously too heavy for her because she kept struggling with trying to handle the awkward bag as well as her oversized oversized purse. God, what does she have in there? Every step forward was an overexerted effort, so I took the carry-on carry-on from her without asking. She held fast to it as the line moved, but I refused to let her have it back. We stood there, silently fighting over her ridiculous carry-on until the guy behind us cleared his throat. I yanked it from her hands. She huffed and straightened her clothing, puffing her disheveled hair from her face. We boarded the plane without a single word. People probably thought we were both crazy.
Unfortunately, we were forced to sit coach because the label, although made of money, apparently didn’t like to spend it. Row eight, seat B, loomed ahead of me like a dentist’s chair. Seven hours of pure hell laid ahead of me.
“You can have the window seat,” I said, gesturing to the inside seat. “I’ll take the aisle.” Try to keep the peace.
“No, I’d rather sit in the aisle, thank you.”
I stuffed her carry-on above us then took a deep breath to compose myself. “Seriously, I don’t mind giving up the window.”
“And I told you, I don’t want it,” she gritted.
My blood was beginning to boil now. “January, I’m trying to be cool with you.”
“I realize that and I said thank you but no thank you.”
“Fine,” I gritted back. I sat in the window seat, opened the plastic shade and watched the men below load our bags with the utmost care you’d expect those men to handle your bags. Yeah.
By the time the plane, took off, I was asleep.
January
Tom fell asleep before we even left pavement, for which I was grateful because I didn’t want to have to explain to him my most inconvenient problem. I was allergic to traveling. Well, not allergic so much as just extremely susceptible to motion sickness. It didn’t matter what I was traveling in, be it plane, train, or automobile. I had a genetic predisposition of ralphing everything in my stomach each time I barely set foot on any form of transportation. It’s why I argued over keeping the aisle seat, I needed to have better access to the lavatory.
As soon as Tom drifted off, I swallowed down the motion sickness pills my doctor prescribed me with my bottle of water. These I only took when I would be able to sleep for hours because they made me sleepy as hell.
While I waited for the pills to take effect, I took out the tattered paperback I’d brought from home and settled into my seat but couldn’t bring myself to bend the barely-there cover. I worried that my motion sickness issue would become just that, an issue for Tom. Scouting involved an astronomical amount of traveling, and although I knew this going into it, I wasn’t going to let my little problem stop me from doing it. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity and the job was made for me. There was nothing I loved more than music. Music kept my heart beating, my mind clear and my soul deep.
Drowsiness took over and my head started to feel heavy on my neck. Before I knew it, my book had slipped from my fingers, tumbling to the floor at my feet.
Thomas
I vaguely remember falling asleep but I definitely remembered waking up. I was staring at the top of January’s head, her long, silky brown hair laid arranged across my chest. She’d accidentally fallen asleep on me and I grinned at that. She’d flip her shit if she knew she’d done that. I studied it. There were red highlights throughout and it gleamed in the sunlight that shone through the window. I shut the window to keep myself from running my hands through it. I breathed deeply to keep myself in check, but that only magnified the problem because it kicked up whatever perfume she was wearing and my head began to swim.
I tried to shift her but she groaned. I was stuck. I dared not disturb her because I enjoyed this peaceful side of the girl I knew nothing about but somehow felt I knew better than anyone else. I needed a distraction. I slowly reached for my iPod in my jacket pocket and brought it out. I put the buds in my ears and an old Dashboard came on. While Where There’s Gold played, I tried hard not to let the lyrics remind me of the dreams I’d lost. I tried, but failed. Bitterness began to paint my thoughts with the poison only bitterness could infect with. Regret. Lots and lots of regret.
A few months before The Ivories disbanded, I knew it was over. Things were taking place that simply gave it away. Cherry started to miss practices to hang out with Charlie, not that any of us had cared, we all had things to do that seemed more important. Our songs suffered for it and our sizable following recognized it, so they simply stopped showing up.
I started to become obsessed with Kelly, making up excuses to hang out with her. This made Carter incredibly nervous, rightfully so, and she had to end our little private dinners and lunches and movies. I knew it wasn’t right for me to take advantage of Kelly’s naivety like that. I knew I was wrong, but I still felt an added cover of bitterness creep into my heart that Carter didn’t want her to do as she wished. Another thin veneer of bitterness was added on top of my growing layers as well because it felt like she had started to feel the same way about me as I did for her. I knew if we could’ve had another month or so, she would’ve been mine.
That’s when I took the Austin gig. I thought it would’ve helped me move on, find solace in a career worth taking solace in but being alone only magnified how much my heart had hardened and before I knew it, it’d turned to stony ice to keep from hurting so damn badly.
That’s why I resented January so much. That night, that embrace, that unbelievable kiss cracked my carefully guarded, steeled heart. She reminded me of what I didn’t want to remember wanting anymore. I didn’t want to know the comfort of someone’s touch or kiss. I just wanted to be alone, regardless of what that would cost my life because nothing was as costly, in my opinion, as a broken heart. Nothing.
January
I woke to the faint sound of Tom’s iPod in my ear. Damn, he’s playing that loudly. Doesn’t he know he’s gonna remove apostrophe lose his hearing at that decibel? I inwardly sighed. Why should you care, January?
Something felt off though. That’s when I realized that he wasn’t playing it loudly....at all. In fact, I’d only heard it so well because I was practically on top of his lap! My face and neck flamed red, of course, and I silently thanked God that my hair was fanned across my face, hiding my reaction. I smiled lightly. Hmm, while I’m here... I took him in. His chest was hard and wide and so incredibly warm. I inhaled deeply, making sure to keep my breathing even so it wouldn't give me away, and smelled his astonishingly yummy smell. Oh my Lord, he was built like an Abercrombie model. I felt it underneath the ridiculous layers of clothing he hid himself in. I wanted to lift his hoodie and run my fingers down his washboard abs. Then I panicked and adrenaline began to pump through my veins...because I was a drooler. I know, I know, not exactly the most ladylike admission but I was nonetheless. I carefully pressed my lips together to feel for excess moisture. Dry. Thank God.