You Know Me

9| New Beginnings

"Stella, you're going to have to leave some of this stuff in your car," I huff as I grab her humongous suitcase from her trunk, almost heaving before I even set it down.

I can tell she's never flown before from thinking that she can actually carry all of this shit on, that and the way she stares up at the sky with her bottom lip tucked in between her teeth.

"A-are you sure we shouldn't just drive? We only have twenty-two more hours to go now," she stammers as she tries to usher me to put her suitcase back into the trunk.

I definitely don't want to hop from hotel to hotel until we get to Colorado. Stella's pick from last night was just awful; I don't think I've ever been in a room that was so... just awful, and I've been in plenty of rough places.

"What is your deal?" I stop her before she can get anywhere near the driver's side of her car.

"Have you never flown?"

"No... I'm scared of flying," she says in almost a whisper as she looks down.

I let out a laugh as her cheeks flush red. I think back to how slowly she drove through the lot until we reached the passenger's parking. If I hadn't physically pushed her foot on the gas, I'm sure she would've turned us around.

"It's not that bad. I'll get the window seat and you can sleep until we get there."

One of the many planes from takeoff soars into the sky, the jet too loud to not look up at it. Stella shivers and her face turns pale. I didn't know she would be this scared.

"Fine," she groans after a long thought and jerks the suitcase from my hand. "But just know if I have a panic attack while we're on this thing that it's your fault," she shrugs.

I feel bad for making her do something that she clearly doesn't want to do but she needs to be pushed out of her comfort zone or she'll never live. I'm just the person to help her with that.

After deciphering against leaving her favorite blow drier and curling iron in the car, we luge ninety percent of her things and ten percent of mine into the lobby. The seams on her suitcase look as if they could burst and I wouldn't be surprised if they did before turning it into the baggage claim. I've never met someone so persistent in bringing everything from their home on a trip... well maybe besides my mother but I shouldn't compare Stella to her—Stella doesn't deserve that.

After a long two hours of waiting in the lobby with Stella going on and on about her friends just so she can try to forget that we're about to get on a flight, we're finally boarding the plane. It took me another ten minutes to persuade her into actually getting on the damn thing but we're finally one step closer to getting away from home and creepy texters who send me unfavorable jewelry. I guess I can be somewhat thankful for Stella's nervousness— it makes it easier for me to not think of what I have to come home to. But why should I worry about that already?

"One day at a time," I whisper to myself as we reach the only seats that we could afford on such short notice. It's crowded and smells like bad body odor but it's a lot better than driving for another twenty-two hours.

I'm getting away from it all, or so I think. A new start in a new location is always bound for new stuff to run away from. I'll just hope that our trip goes smoothly and doesn't end with me having to run back to everything I'm trying to escape from, sooner.

"Hold my hand," Stella whines as the intercom blares for takeoff.

I grab Stella's hand and place it on the leather armrest with a squeeze, letting go with a smirk. She and I both know that not even she—my favorite person on this planet— can be the person that I let my guard down for.

•••

"That actually wasn't so bad!" Stella cheers as we exit the plane. Her face almost looks green but I'm proud of her for holding in the vomit.

"I told you it wouldn't be!"

I grab Stella's suitcase from the baggage carousel, pulling the handle up until it lets out a click. "Did you tell your sister that we made it? She's picking us up isn't she?"

"Yes, she should be... right there!" Her smile widens as she points at a tall blonde sitting next to the entrance of the lobby.

Stella takes off in a full sprint, leaving me with our luggage. As I slowly make my way over to them, they're already in mid-conversation, Stella's gibberish flying off of the walls. I can see how much they favor as I get closer. They could literally be twins if her sister wasn't so tall. She has to be at least six-foot. Her collarbone length haircut frames her face perfectly and her dark makeup and clothes are the only things that set them different.

"You must be Jo-Jo!" Stella's sister cheers as glances over at me, just like Stella does when she's excited.

"Josie," I say blandly. Stella really needs to quit referring to me by the nickname she gave me.

"Oh, right," she murmurs and looks down as she pushes back a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. Her face glows red like Stella's does when she gets embarrassed.

Am I that intimidating?

"I'm Peyton!" She chirps as she finally looks up and gives me her hand to shake. "Stella has told me a lot about you over our weekly phone calls," she laughs.

Her smile is just as wide and bright as Stella's but something is hidden behind her dim, doe-like eyes. Oddly enough, it almost takes me a moment to realize that one of her eyes has a speckle of green covering the emerald blues as I peer into them.

"I would say 'hopefully all good things' but I have a feeling that that's not the case," I say, finally breaking my eyes from hers as I release her hand.

Peyton and Stella begin to laugh like I said something funny but I don't get what's funny. I follow the both of them with mine and Stella's bags in hand, trying to keep up with their skippish jog. It's like trying to keep up with a squirrel on crack. Stella finally looks back and realizing that I'm at least five feet away, she runs back to me and grabs her luggage from my hand.

"Come on, Jo! We're going to eat at my favorite place! You'll love it!" She squeals and somehow manages to run all of the way back to her sister with no problem.

If she doesn't simmer down at least a tad I'll have no choice but to slip her a chill pill or a fucking blunt. From the way she talks about her friends, I know that her excitement will only get worse from here and I'm not ready for that. I don't see how she can drive for two hours and sit on a plane for so long and still be so energetic. What is wrong with her?

Someone catches my eye from the right of me, making me stop in my tracks. Without a thought or notion, I look over. There, as clear as day stands Dave in his well known black, leather jacket, leaning on the only tree in the parking lot with a cigarette pressed firmly to his lips. He smirks as he blows out a thick cloud of smoke and his eyes peer straight through me, making me feel more and more vulnerable as the seconds pass. I close my eyes and shake my head as my heart begins to ache. Just like that, he's gone. The small area where the tree sits is vacant and only makes me look over the swarm of people surrounding the lot, hoping that I don't catch a familiar face.

Maybe it's not Stella that has something wrong with her, maybe it's me. I brought him, or the thought of him along with me and now being somewhere that I could start a new beginning, it looks like I'll start my new beginning looking like a paranoid freak.

"Coming?" Stella shouts from across the lot.

Realizing that I'm still standing in the same spot that she left me, I pick up my pace and hoist my duffel further up on my shoulder. I look around some more to make sure that my mind doesn't play any more tricks on me and shout back, "Coming!" as I hurry myself to Peyton's run-down minivan

Maybe there is no such thing as new beginnings after all.