Anna and the French Kiss: Etienne's POV

23

I'm satisfied. One, I'm off of that machine that takes me thousands of feet in the air, and two, because Anna seems to be a bit jittery. I don't say anything though. I just smirk to myself. 

My connecting flight to San Francisco doesn't leave for another three hours, so we board the train that runs between terminals, and I walk her to the arrivals area. We've been quiet since we got off the plane. I'm guessing she's tired, because I know I am. We reach the security checkpoint, and I can't go any farther. Bloody TSA regulations. 

That's when it hits me--I won't be seeing her for two weeks. I'm a horrible person. I have a bloody girlfriend. When she's not there all I can think about is Anna. I suppose I will have to ask me mum for some advice. I am not ashamed of this either. 

I grip the straps of my backpack. "All right, Banana. Suppose this is goodbye." 

I want to hug her. But I can't bring myself to. Why, why, why?

Anna tucks her stripe behind her ear. "Tell your mom hi for me. I mean, I know I don't know her. She just sounds really nice. And I hope she's okay."

"Thanks, I'll tell her."

She smiles softly. "Call me?"

"Yeah, whatever. You'll be so busy with Bridge and what's-his-name that you'll forget all about your English mate, St. Clair."

She pokes me in the stomach, awakening the bundle of butterflies. "Ha! So you are English!"

I grab her hand and we wrestle, laughing. "I claim. . .no. . .nationality."

She breaks free. "Whatever, I totally caught you. Ow!" A gray haired man in sunglasses bumps his red plaid suitcase into her legs. 

"Hey, you! Apologize!" I say, but the guy is already too far away to hear. 

She rubs her shins. "It's okay, we're in the way. I should go." 

Time to hug again. Why can't I just do it? But before I can do it myself, she steps forward and puts her arms around me. The butterflies smack against the walls of my stomach. I put my chin on her shoulder, and smell her hair. Why does she have to smell so bloody good? 

We pull apart. "Have fun at the show tonight," I say. 

She tucks her stripe behind her ear again. "I will. Have a good flight." 

"Thanks." I bite my thumbnail. 

I watch her go through security and ride down the escalator. She looks back one last time, and I jump up and down, waving at her. She bursts into laughter, and I memorize her smiling face. The escalator slides down. 

And then, she's gone. 

I walk back to the correct terminal, check my luggage, pass through security, and locate the gate like I did with Anna. Only this time I'm doing it alone. It's not like this is the first time I've been traveling alone, but for some reason it sure feels like it. 

I sit down in a plastic seat, and watch a family of four argue two rows across from me. 

A chubby man with rosy cheeks is arguing with a woman who I assume is his wife. "I told y'all this afternoon that you were gonna be sittin' on the plane for a long time." 

His wife, who is shockingly attractive for a man like this, crosses her arms. "Bob, their little. You should've known they was goin' to complain."

Two boys that seem to be under the age of ten are crying. 

I look away, suddenly bored.

When my section is announced, I sigh in relief. It feels like I've been sitting there for 10 hours, when it was only one. I hand my ticket to the plump flight attendant who sticks it through the machine and rips it.