Crushing on the Captain

Two-I am a Big Fat Liar

        So I didn't wake up in Seattle.

        Things had started off strong. I'd packed up the rest of my things, changed into a t-shirt and velvet black pants (not very fashionable for the times, but extremely comfortable), and Nick had picked me up to take me to the airport. While I'd wanted to drive myself, for the thrill of being independent on this trip, it just wasn't practical to pay for three days of parking at the airport.

           "You've got everything?" Nick asked anxiously.

           "Yeah. Just two bags, my phone, and my ID," I said, sifting through my things just to double check. Obviously, with my luck, I would misplace my entire suitcase in the ten minute drive from my house to the terminal.

        Nick nodded and backed out of the driveway. He'd already dropped the twins off at their ballet practice (something I didn't totally understand being beneficial for three-year-olds), so he had insisted that it would be no trouble to drive me around.

         "You come back Sunday night?" he asked.

         "Yep. I'm scheduled to land at nine," I said. In the days leading up to this trip, I'd memorized my flight times and my flight numbers, just in case of the horrific event of something happening to my phone.

"Okay. Text me when you land, okay?" he said, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. Sometimes it was hard to tell when he was rightfully worried about me or treating me like his baby sister. This was one of those times.

"I'll be fine," I told him. "It's not like I've never flown. I am perfectly capable of traveling by myself."

          "Right. Of course," he said, sounding like he was trying to convince himself. I leaned over the console and hugged him, saying, "Thank you for driving. Love you!"

           "Love you too," he said, ruffling my hair. I jumped out of the car, waving as I disappeared into the crowds of people along the sidewalk.

           I made it through security and found my gate relatively easily. While it wasn't something particularly hard, some part of me had expected that my gate would've been magically removed from existence before I got here. Security would've dragged me away, claiming I was a crazy person with an imaginary flight to catch. It was a relief to find out that I was perfectly sane.

          Sitting down near the window, I looked outside. The snow had picked up, forming a thin layer of slush on the pavement. I felt bad for the people working outside, their neon green coats seeming insufficient against the weather. At the moment, I was very grateful to be inside the plane rather than outside.

We took off without issue. To busy myself, I sifted through the catalog of all the vendors and speakers who would be at the convention. Most of them I'd never heard of. There were a couple companies that sold supplies that I wanted to look at, and another company that sold practice workbooks that I'd looked at online. While I couldn't actually alter what I taught in class, I could ask the school to approve supplemental material that I could give to students who were struggling.

My eyes drifted to the next page, and I hesitated. This trip was supposed to be work. Part of the prize was being given a seven-hundred-dollar voucher to spend on anything in the vendor hall. There had been a lot of emphasis on anything-you could literally get anything you wanted. Snacks, t-shirts, and obviously curriculum.

There was a bookstore with a booth. A bookstore that sold fiction, the fun kind, not the boring, high school English class kind. And I would be walking around with a pocket full of money that I had to use this weekend.