20 Days In His Bedroom

Chapter One

I'm a little nervous and scared. It's almost my first time on a plane. I've been to the airport countless times, but only to say goodbye to others — never to board myself. I still can't believe I'm the one traveling this time.

Well, since Dad promised it's just a short trip and we'll come back soon, I decided not to be mad anymore. Still, I know I'll miss everything — my room, my garden, my friends... even my teddy bear that I always sleep with, cuddling it like a baby.

"Your ticket, Twi," Mom says, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I hand my ticket to the man at the gate. He checks it, tears off a portion, and returns the rest to me.

"Are we leaving right now?"
I know I sound ridiculous asking this while already on the plane, but I still can't wrap my head around it.

Mom laughs. "Why are you being so dramatic?" She turns to ask the hostess about her seat. I follow, assuming I'm sitting next to her. Hopefully.

"Where's Dad?" I ask, not seeing him nearby.

She rolls her eyes and points. "Over there."

"Yeah, I saw him. I need to get my handbag."

I glance at my ticket and realize my seat isn't next to either of them.

"Oh... I have a different seat number," I frown.

"You're not a kid. Go find it," Mom says flatly.
Sure, I'm not a kid, but it's my first time flying.

"Okay." I shrug and start searching for my seat. When I find it, I quickly tie my hair into a messy bun.

I pull out my phone and check my messages. Emma, my best friend, has texted.

I'm leaving in a few minutes :( I write to her.
I've never seen anyone so miserable about traveling. You're insane LOL, she replies.
I can't believe you won't miss me at all, I send back, adding a few goofy emojis.

I smile. I'm going to miss her so much.

"Excuse me," a deep voice interrupts me.

I look up to see a gorgeous, tall guy. Muscular build, striking sky-blue eyes, holding an iPhone 11 Pro in one hand and his sunglasses in the other. He takes off his cap, revealing perfectly tousled blonde hair.

"What?" I blink, a bit caught off guard.

"My seat," he says coolly, gesturing to the seat beside me.

"Oh." I move awkwardly to let him in. Suddenly, my nerves ease a little. I'll be sitting next to this hot guy the entire flight? Not bad — though still a bit intimidating.

"Thank you," he mutters, adjusting the air conditioner above him.
He smells amazing. Oh. My. God.

"No problem." I smile, but he doesn't even look at me.

As the plane begins to move, a host announces take-off. I fasten my seatbelt and grip the armrests tightly. Once the seatbelt sign turns off, I start to breathe normally again.

I sneak a glance at the guy. He's flipping through pictures on his phone. I wonder why his phone is still on, but I don't say anything. Curiosity wins — I try to peek. He's with a group of people. Family, maybe? Missing them, like I'm missing mine?

Then he hits the home button. His wallpaper flashes: a photo of him cuddling a girl. Oh. Girlfriend? Of course. A guy like him wouldn't be single. I look away.

A safety demonstration starts playing on the screen. I focus intently, memorizing every detail. I think he notices and chuckles.

I consider walking over to Mom and Dad, but decide against it. I'm eighteen — I should act like it.

I wrap myself in the blanket provided and try to sleep, hoping to pass time quickly.

"What would you like to eat?"
The hostess wakes me gently.

"Uh... chicken, please," I say, rubbing my eyes.

"Chicken," I hear him echo.

I smile at the coincidence, but again — no reaction from him. Maybe he didn't even notice. Now I feel stupid.

"What about a drink?" the hostess asks.

"Mango juice," I reply. Not even my favorite, but it came to mind first.

"Whiskey," he says casually.

Wait, what? Whiskey? Is he serious? What if he gets drunk?

"It's not included, sir. It's $10 in cash," the hostess says politely.

Without hesitation, he hands her the money. She prepares his drink.

He removes his grey jacket, revealing a plain white T-shirt that hugs his torso perfectly. Tattoos decorate his arms.

I stare. He notices.

"You want something?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, no," I stammer.
He shrugs, probably aware I've been stealing glances. I should stop.

Time drags. I get bored. He's not sleeping or watching a movie. I gather the courage to try again.

"Is it your first time traveling?" I ask casually.

He laughs. Probably not, then.

"No," he replies simply.

"You travel a lot?" I press.

"Yeah."
His short replies are frustrating.

"Well..." I trail off, giving up.

Two hours pass.

"Do you have a fear of flying?" he suddenly asks.

Startled, I quickly close the safety card I was reviewing.

"Oh. No... it's just my first time," I explain, biting my lip.

"Really?" he raises a teasing brow. I laugh a little.
"You can keep studying it if it makes you feel better."

"Why are you traveling?" I ask, trying to keep the conversation alive.

"Why?" he turns to face me.

Why did I ask that? Because I'm curious? Or bored? Now I feel dumb.

"Just wondering," I mutter. "You don't have to answer."

"I would... but I mean, why do you want to know?"

Ugh. Embarrassing. Looks really are deceiving.

"I thought you might want to talk... I know it's not important, I just— I love meeting new people," I fumble, looking away.

"Okay, okay. Well... I'm just traveling for fun," he says, rolling his eyes.