Young Collective - Cole Sprouse

Chapter nine

I'm reading about myself in a magazine I wouldn't usually buy- except I made front cover. I'm wearing a bikini, 20 years old and smiling like a goof. A photograph of Cole Sprouse is photoshopped next to mine. It's a photo from a few months ago. He's shirtless on the beach.

They don't say many nice things about me. Not too many negative things either. 'Mystery girl'. 'Girlfriend'. 'One night stand?'.

I'm sitting in my designated seat 23 minutes early for the flight. I watch as others board. An old lady sits right down next to me. I'm at the window end of a three seater. I feel sweaty as more people waddle in. I feel numb in my fingertips. I felt numb ever since I left the studio yesterday. Ever since I left Cole and Dylan and Graham and Julian. Mr. Korser transferred my pay into my bank account and gave me a kiss and a bouquet of roses for my travels. He told me he'd surely meet me again and he can't wait for me to "be the eye behind the lens". I gave Cole a kiss on the cheek and he said he'd come visit when he comes back up to New York. Dylan said the same. Graham gave me a slice of his key lime pie to eat on the three hour flight back. I've already eaten half of it.

Another ten minutes goes by and I've finished all five magazine features I have in the five different magazines I bought, with the new money I'd earned. Julian had over-payed me by a mile, but he excused it and said it was due to him "having too much anyway" and that I "did a far better job" than he expected. I still don't know if that's a compliment or not. I know that I need to put the money away, save it so I can maybe afford my own place.

I sit. And think. Think about the little man outside my window, throwing luggage into the side of the plane. I wonder if he ever came close to falling in love and if he ever pursued it. I wonder who he is and where he's been. Why he has that beard and why he works at an airport hauling luggage. I sigh.

Cole. Cole. Cole.

I push the thought of him out of my head and take out the emergency instruction manual. I always read it. Every flight. I flick threw and grow bored. So I resume my neutral position and stare back out the window.

Suddenly the sound of the grandma next to me snoring softly blurs out to the sides of my hearing and my ears sharpen on the sound of someone placing their bags above my head. The way they shuffle their feet is familiar.

I'm almost too scared to look. It's not him. Stop it.

I do not turn until I hear them sit and buckle up. The person does not nudge me or call for me so I assume I'm being anxious. I force my neck stiff so I do not look and sit for a while. I hear a magazine being opened. Surely it's not him. I smile at myself. I've never seen him read a magazine. I feel stupid for thinking anything of him. I start to turn my head in his direction and simultaneously my ears drink up his smooth sentence,

"We look good here El."

"Cole?" I frown.

I see a black haired handsome young man sitting next to the old lady. He's wearing a white shirt, the one he always wears. And a pair of high waisted black pants. He's holding open a magazine, the cover photo is us kissing in my car. My heart sings and apparently so do my eyes.

"What?" He smiles.

"Uh- nothing, I mean- why are you here?" I frown again and turn slightly away. I smell his cologne from my seat and sniff up the sweet scent.

"Don't sound so happy to see me Jesus El." He says sarcastically. I turn back to him.

"Anyway-" he plays with the toothpick in between his lips. "Ducks fly together. I told you that"

I smile.

"What about the shoot?" I ask.

Cole leans forward and pouts.

"I told Julian I was happy with the ones he'd taken and I trusted him to adjust them in any way. They're his photographs. He can do what he pleases with them." Cole answers. "I guess I decided to come home early."

I watch behind cole as two young girls walk up and tap him on the shoulder.

"Hey um cole um my names Lucy um could we please get a um photograph please." The girls giggle with nervousness and the shorter blonde one jumps up and down slightly. Cole nods and allows the girls to practically shove their cameras in his face. But he remains kind and calm. The shorter blonde girl notices me, points and says,

"Oh my heck is that your girlfriend?"

"Ha ha no, we're not a couple. Just-"

"Close friends." I interrupt as I watch Cole struggle to piece together what we actually are.

Close friends. Is that all we are?

The girls completely ignore me and jump away, I smirk at Cole then turn back to look out the window. The plane is moving backwards. My heart sings and I feel almost uncomfortably happy.

This will be an interesting plane ride.