Together at last || Jenna Ortega x Y/n (female)

Chapter 22

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Pov: Y/n

„Hey guys," Georgie greets Emma and me with a quiet voice and half-shut eyes. We're the last ones to arrive, while the others are already sitting at the gate, most of them half or fully asleep against someone else's shoulder. Joy, Georgie, Hunter, Moosa, Isaac, Jenna, Naomi, Oliver, and Johnna are all coming to this trip. Emma and I take the last seats in the row, but right when my butt hits the seat, the boarding announcement starts. I groan as I get back up. „Phew, right on time," Emma says as she gets up. We overslept a little, but luckily there was little to no traffic, so we made it on time anyway.

I watch Georgie wake up the rest of the group, and they all get up. Like zombies, we make our way to the gate. Jenna glances at me as she passes by, but I keep my head straight and ignore it. We show our tickets to the security guy and continue our walk through the long hallway. The sun is beginning to go up, and the shallow reams wake me up just the tiniest bit.

Once we're inside, I glance at my ticket. Row 17, seat 49. I walk through the plane, looking left and right for my row. When I find it, I sit down and place my handbag between my feet. I'm in the middle seat, Joy to my left and the right one still empty. I relax at the feeling of the soft cushion against my back and close my eyes, ready to fall back asleep. However, I open them again when I sense someone staring at me. Of course, I think, when my eyes meet Jenna. She sits down next to me, and I sigh as the scent of her hits my nose - a combination of her coconut shampoo and sandalwood perfume. The scent I've often inhaled when we laid in bed together, her body pressed against mine while we fell asleep. For a second, my sleep-drunken body feels the sensation of her skin on mine, as if I was back in one of those moments. As if everything was okay.

But it doesn't last long, and the coldness between us hits me again. It's a punch in the gut when I see her eyes looking at me. The eyes that, just a while back, I looked into and saw my future. I saw love and compassion, or lust. Now they're empty and cold. It's the look she would always give paparazzi when they wouldn't stop bugging her or when someone would write a mean comment on one of her posts. Never in a million years would I have thought that that look could be pointed toward me, and it hurts more than anything I've ever felt before.

I swallow the knot in my throat and blink away the emerging tears as I turn my head so she doesn't see them. I think about getting up and asking someone to switch seats with me, but the announcement to buckle up crashes that thought. Instead, I pull on my headphones and drown out the world around me.

Inevitably I think back to the last flight I've been on with Jenna. She held my hand when I was nervous because it was my first one. She made me take the window seat so I could have the best view, and goddamn, we even joined the high mile club. Now, I can't even manage to look at her.

I try to concentrate on the music in my ears. I turn it louder and listen to the beat and the words, which clears my mind of everything else and calms the heartache inside of me just a little bit.

Luckily, I ended up sleeping through almost the whole flight, and the rest of the trip went uneventfully. We get out of the plane, everyone well rested, making me realize I must not have been the only one who took a giant nap. We're all cheerful and excited for the week of relaxation. There are no paparazzi at the airport, but it still takes us 30 minutes to get through - while fans come up to us and want pictures and autographs. I take most of the pictures while they're standing hurled up in a row, the fans in the middle. It's a cute sight, and I'm proud of each and every one of them.