IS IT OVER?

I stared at the oblong ticket in my hand as if it might grow teeth and bite me. Squinting my eyes, I pretended I needed glasses and prayed that my lack of portrayed an optical illusion before me. Because this destination did not—under any circumstances—scream summer vaca.

It shrieked please don't make me go. It may even equal up to someone holding onto the door handle in their house to avoid leaving. Not that I would ever stoop to such tactics. Cough. Cough. 

I let out a hushed pout and clicked the heels of my converse together. There's no place like home. There's no place like home. However, as convincing as my plea had been, when I reopened my eyes, I still gawked at the terminal boarding to Little Rock, Arkansas.

The kicker was that I wasn't even staying there but being ushered two hours southeast to a town of eight hundred—I kid you not—people.

Shortly after my self-awarded pity-party, the pretty flight attendant called for the passengers to board. I made my way into the line, hoping the hour-long flight would prepare me for an entire summer with Grandma Fran.

I loved my Gran, but dang it, I didn't want to spend my summer waking up at the butt crack of dawn and helping her with the chickens. I found my seat quickly, shoving my carryon above my head and plopping down in the aisle seat, because a window seat would be too lucky.

My leather purse sat in my lap with my phone, headphones and my monthly essentials tucked into the side pocket. Of course, Aunt Flow showed up right in time to encourage the Devil on my shoulder. Way to go, Aunt Flow.

A girl, around thirteen or fourteen, squeezed her way into the window seat beside me. Her oversized JoJo Siwa bow glistened in the lighting above us. When she sat down, I tried to keep my eyes on my phone, giving off a grumpy teenager vibe, but she didn't notice it.

She cleared her throat, popping her cotton candy flavored gum—yes, that's how close she was—and shoved my shoulder. "I'm Elsa, it's not my real name, but Mom gives me the choice to be called what I want—how about you, what's yours?"

Oh, barnacles.

"I like your reddish hair. Can I call you Anna? Here take a picture with me."

She pulled out a cellphone fancier than mine, and started taking pictures of us both. I felt a weight lift off my shoulders when the flight attendant announced for us to put our cell phones away. Once the plane took off, I settled into my seat.

"Excuse me, Sir, can you turn your music down?"

I opened my left eye and watched an older woman ask the boy sitting across from me to turn his headphones down. When I caught a glimpse of him, both eyes opened and so did my mouth. When did this stallion gallop his way in?

Slowly, I pulled out my pocket mirror from my purse and fixed the strands of my hair. Now, I wished I hadn't hosted a pity-party that morning and put my face on.

"What are you doing?" Elsa asked.

I shut my mirror dramatically and pushed it into my purse. When I did, she noticed my expensive headphones and tried to grab them. Over my dead body. I babysat twins that I knew were related to Bigfoot for the money to buy them.

"No ma'am," I said.

"Please, come on." She pulled at the strap of my purse and I pulled back. Someone around us gasped, but I held my death grip and ignored the whispers as we played tug of war.

"Let go, you unaccompanied minor!"

She gasped as if I'd told her that JoJo bow was too big for her head. "I just want to see them. They are glittery!"

"Excuse me," the flight attendant asked. Which made Elsa tug harder, something dark brewed in the depths of her squinted eyes.

Finally, the flight attendant said, "Miss. Elsa, let go or we'll have to take you back."

Her bottom lip poked out and she let go suddenly, causing me to spill the entire remains of my purse on the aisle beside me .... necessities and all. Heat bloomed underneath my cheeks as I noticed our audience and the guts of my purse littering the aisle like a neon sign.

Our flight attendant met my eyes, and quickly stepped on the tampons beside my airplane cutie's boot. My heart stood still when he bent down and helped me pick up my things.

I nonchalantly watched his big hands place things into my bag and smirk the few times he looked up. The golden specs in his hazel eyes made my heart thump wildly in my chest. "Here you go, Anna," he smiled.

I couldn't stop the laugh that spilled out of my throat. "Alright, Olaf."

A dimple dented the right side of his mouth, and he pinched the end of my braid on my shoulder. When I sat up, the flight attendant smiled at me, slipping me my essentials as she passed.

"Sorry," Elsa said, her arms folded over her chest.

Sighing, I pulled my headphones from my bag and handed them to her. "Don't break them. It looks like I took out my bad mood on you. I'm sorry about that."

"That's okay. At least you got that guy's attention. He's looking at you."

Being the experienced woman I was, I didn't look, I pulled out my notebook and doodled to pass time. Later, I noticed Olaf's hand gesturing toward my notebook. I handed it to him, watching him scribble down something before he handed it back.

I was thinking I could be Kristoff? He wrote his number beside it.

I noticed our flight attendant watching from the front of the plane. I mouthed, "Thank you."

She winked at me.

Thank you, Southwest Airlines.