What happens in Vegas

26| Bouquet

Chapter 26: Bouquet (Bella's POV)

Our final days in Vegas felt like they whizzed past and that's kind of because they did. We went out on both days, including the night we were supposed to be flying, which is why we were late for our flight and nearly missed it but no doubt, we got on. 

I sat down in my seat, which unfortunately was not with my friends. All three of our seats were a few rows up or down from each other. I was sitting between an elder man, around my father's age, and a woman to my right who seemed like a librarian just younger than the snobby ones you imagine. 

"Excuse me, ma'am, do you mind if I sit here? My seat is that one right there and it's also an aisle seat." I looked up and saw Noah standing there, talking to the librarian looking, woman. His seat was the seat in the column beside mine. 

In short, I had a middle seat, the seat on both sides of the aisle was his, so the aisle was separating his seat and the old lady's. It wasn't far from mine at all. 

"If your seat is right there then why are you looking to switch?" the lady asked rudely. 

"Clearly, he's looking to sit with the girl, ma'am," the man from my left spoke up. "Do you know him, dear?" he asked me. 

"Y-yeah, yeah he's um-" 

"Her boyfriend," Noah answered for me. 

"My boyfriend, yeah," I nodded. The woman was set on not giving up her seat, but the man was nice enough to swap seats with Noah. "Thank you, sir," I smiled. 

"Not a problem, kids," he nodded with a kind smile. 

"She's so mean," Noah whispered, sitting beside me. 

I turned to him. "Hi," I grinned. 

"Hi," he smiled. I lifted an eyebrow at him and he shrugged in response, "I wanted to sit with you on," he shrugged. 

"No shit," I teased. 

"I'm tired," he sighed, leaning his head back. 

"Well, it's four in the morning so..." I trailed off, linking my arm with his, resting my head on his shoulder. 

"What are you planning on doing till summer ends?" he asked randomly. 

"Um, I'm not too sure, why?" I asked, straightening up. 

"Actually, I wanted to know when you'll start packing. For Berkley," he said. 

"Oh," I mumbled, "I- I don't know yet. I'm not too sure of what I will and what I won't be taking," I lied. 

"Maybe I can help you pack, see your room," he smirked. 

"It's so weird to think we haven't seen each other's rooms yet," I chuckled. 

"I've seen your room," he shrugged. 

"What? No, you haven't." 

"Yes, I have." 

"When?" 

He turned to me, "There was this one time where I was over for practice and I think you went out with your friends and your dad offered me to stay for dinner and I asked him where the bathroom was and he said it was upstairs and instead of going into the guest room, I went into yours," he explained. 

I narrowed my eyes at him, "Why?" 

He smiled sheepishly, "I thought I was never gonna know you and that was the closest I would get to it. I remember it distinctly," he answered. 

"Map it out for me," I smirked. There is no way he remembers. That must have been freshman, maybe sophomore year. He stopped coming over for practice after that.