Chapter 43

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"You sure you have everything?" My dad asks, taking my luggage out of the car before closing the trunk with a thud.

"For the hundredth time in the last fifteen minutes, yes dad, I'm sure." I reply, taking my small, blue carry-on suitcase from him, and letting him deal with my bigger bag.

"What about your passport? Your minor's permit? Your pills in case you get sick on the flight?" my mom asks, nervously going through her mental checklist as we start walking towards the airport. I dig inside my backpack that's hanging off my shoulder, taking my passport and my permit out, waving them in front of her face before putting it back, shaking my backpack so that she'll hear the pills rattling inside.

"Relax guys, it's just a weeklong trip. I made sure I packed everything I needed, I checked three times before we even left home. All liquids are sealed inside a ziplock bag, my money is well hidden, and all my bags have their locks on. You don't have to worry, you raised a daughter just as neurotic as the two of you." I assure them.

"Don't be a smartass now," my mom warns, "I'm just worried. It's your first time flying out of the country and we won't be there with you in case anything happens."

"I know, and I'm nervous too. But I'll only be gone a week. We'll all just have to trust that everything is taken care of, and I'll let you know if anything goes wrong." I say, "Which I'm sure it won't." I add, more to myself than to them.

"We'll still miss you anyway." my dad says, giving me a side hug and I give him a small smile.

"I'll miss you too."

"Alright now let's get going, everyone should already be inside waiting." My mom interjects and we start walking towards the airport.

I take the hoodie I'd tied to my wait and put it on, wrapping my arms around myself to keep me warm since the sun has gone down, making temperatures drop drastically and uncharacteristically for this time of the year. My hair starts getting messed up and sticking to my lips because of the strong wind, and my mom tries smoothing it down for me to no avail. She takes her phone out, looking for the note she made with the right gate number we're supposed to go to, and we make our way to 'departures'.

As the sliding glass doors open automatically for us, we step into the airport, being hit by a wall of warm air coming from the air conditioning system. Inside, we're met by a mass of people, loudly talking over one another. They're mostly kids my age, which I suppose are from the other schools that are joining us on the trip. The rest, I'm assuming, are those kids' parents, who have the same worried expression as my own do. I stand on my tiptoes and scan over the crowd, looking for a familiar face, but I don't see anyone I even remotely recognize.

"Hi!" a cheerful voice says, claiming my attention. I look over to see a very beautiful young woman, I'm guessing in her early twenties, twenty four at most, standing in front of me and holding a clipboard close to her chest. She stands a few inches taller than me and has legs for days, her tan skin visible due to the denim shorts she's wearing. Contrasting with the warm weather attire she's wearing on the bottom half of her body, on the top half she has a turquoise windbreaker on. The zipper on her jacket is undone and displays a tight white tank top, which shows off her curvy figure, making me try to ignore the way her necklaces disappear into her cleavage. Her hair is golden blonde, falling over her shoulders in shiny, yet messy beach waves, making her look like she belongs in the cast of Baywatch. "I'm Quinn," she introduces herself with a tone that matches the wide smile on her face, "And you are?" she asks, her piercing green eyes looking straight at me.

"Maddison," I say.

"Okay, I'm going to call you Maddie to make my life easier. Now Maddie, I need your last name and the name of the school you go to." She says, her eyes scanning over the papers attached to her clipboard.

"Sterling, Maddison Sterling. I go to Wespoint High." I reply, watching how Quinn mouths my answers as she looks for my name, running her ballpoint pen down the page.

"Here you are." She says, checking off my name on the list. "Oh great! You're in my group, so be sure to remember my face because I'll be one of your counselors this week. You'll meet the other one, Matt, in a second. Says here you're one of the minors. Do you have your signed permit to exit the country without your parents?" she asks and I nod. "Very well. Keep that on hand because they're going to ask for it once you check in." She says, pointing towards the desks to her left. "Now one last thing, these are yours," she says, handing me a set of plastic wristbands with different colors. "The light blue one indicates you're with Dream Travel Company, and as such, allows you to go in and out of the hotel. The black one is for the photographers, they'll be taking pictures during the parties and other activities we do during the day, and sometimes they'll check your wristband to make sure you've paid for their services. And lastly, the orange one grants you access into the clubs. You should keep them all on at all times and until we're back here next week. Sound good?" she asks and I just nod again. "Great! Now come with me, I'll lead you to your check-in line.

My parents and I follow Quinn through the crowd and she gives me indications to check my bags in, present my permit, and get my printed ticket. Once all of that is done and my heavier luggage has been dispatched, I'm instructed to join my peers until everyone is done checking in.

Before moving on to help someone else, Quinn indicates where my group is, and directing my gaze in the general direction she pointed, I smile when I recognize an unmistakable full head of auburn hair. Leaving my parents behind for a minute, I run towards Syd and hug her tightly.

"Oh my god, you're here! I've been waiting for you for like half an hour." She says, wrapping her arms around me.

"I know, traffic was a nightmare! I'm just glad I made it in time." I say, pulling away. The sound of someone clearing their throat catches my attention and I turn, looking up to see Tyler standing in front of me, wearing an uncomfortable frown. I curse myself for not having seen him before running over here. I mean with his tall stature and silver hair he's impossible to miss, but I guess I was so excited to see Syd I completely ignored his presence.

"Hi," I greet him for the first time in months, with the softest tone possible, fearing I might scare him away if I raise my voice a little too much, or make any sudden movements.

"Hey," he replies drily, not even looking at me while burying his hands in his pockets, silence settling between us like a dense fog.

"Well...This isn't awkward at all!" Syd says breaking the tension like she always does.

"I see your eye is looking a lot better," I point out, "Syd told me you got tackled pretty hard during the game? Weird how I missed that." I say, hoping to catch him off guard. I'm still not convinced by that story.

"Yeah, no it's...It's not a big deal," he says hesitantly as he rubs the back of his neck. "It wasn't that bad." he adds absentmindedly.

"It looked pretty bad. I thought helmets were supposed to protect you from hits like that," I press, crossing my arms.

"Guess they're not a hundred percent guarantee," he shrugs, visibly uncomfortable. "Listen I've gotta.." he points behind him with his thumb, "I'll catch you later Syd," he makes a point to say her name so I'll know we're still not on speaking terms, before turning around and walking away from us.

"He's lying." I say as my eyes follow him through the mass of bodies.

"About what?" Syd questions with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't know. About something. Didn't you see the way he rubbed his neck?"

"Yeah, so?" She inspects her nails, clearly uninterested.

"Come on, you should know this by now. That's his tell, he always does that when he's hiding something."

"Okay Sherlock, don't get your panties in a twist." She says standing in front of me. "Listen, it's our senior trip. The moment we've been waiting for since we started high school. We're supposed to be having the time of our lives," She reminds me. "Can't you promise me to relax for this one week? Just one drama-free, fun-filled week is all I ask for. Can you grant me that one wish?"

"Okay, you're right. No more Tyler drama."

"No more Mason either," she adds.

"No more Mason," I nod solemnly.

"Promise?" she asks, offering me her pinky finger and I lace it with mine.

"Promise," I say before we both kiss on our own hand, sealing the pact. It makes me sad that I won't be able to share this experience I've been dreaming of for so long with Tyler, but I made my own bed, so now I have to lay in it.

"Good," she says with a smile and suddenly everything is dark.

"Guess who?" The person covering my eyes asks from behind me before kissing the corner of my mouth, unable to reach my lips fully.

"Jackson?" I ask.

They let me go and quickly turn me around, where I'm met with Noah's chest, and then his confused expression once my eyes travel upwards "Oh," I say sounding disappointed, "It's my other boyfriend. Hey Babe!" I say excitedly before pecking him on the lips.

Noah lets out a relieved sigh when he notices I'm kidding, "Don't do that, you're going to kill me," he deflates.

"Aw, I'm sorry," I pout, "I was just messing with you."

He grabs my lower lip between his thumb and index finger, before bending down to kiss me. As he steps back he pretends to be thinking to himself, "Okay I forgive you," he states and I laugh, hugging him tightly by the waist as he wraps his arms around me.

"Okay everybody, time to go!" Quinn announces, raising her voice to be heard over the rest of the people chattering. "Westpoint, you're coming with me this way, up that escalator." She says, pointing to her left.

We all get a moment to say goodbye to our parents, mine being a little too over-dramatic as they hug me with tears in their eyes. I assure them everything will be fine and that I love them, one last time before joining the group and waving back to them while going up the escalator.

We spend the next hour lounging around in the sitting area, bored out of our minds waiting for our flight, until we're finally called to board at around twelve a.m.

Once inside the plane, a flight attendant greets me with a kind and warm smile, checking my ticket and pointing the way to my seat. I walk down several rows of chairs, the sound of the wheels on my carry-on trailing behind me until I come to a stop at 22A.

I struggle to lift my bag to fit it in the overhead bin, when Noah comes up behind me and tucks it away with ease. "I hope you're not planning on making a joke about my height," I warn as I plop down on the seat next to the window.

"Wouldn't even dream about it, shorty," he says, shutting the bin before taking the seat next to me.

"Is this your seat?" I ask, curious about the coincidence.

"Technically, it's that old man's seat," he says, turning and pointing to an eighty-something-year-old man a few rows down, "But I traded with him before you got here." he smiles, facing me again, "Now before you ask, yes, I looked at your ticket. And no, it's not creepy."

I laugh, "I've got to give it to you, you always keep me on my toes, Reed," I shake my head.

"And that's why you love me," he says, smiling and placing a kiss on my hand that's laced with his.

"One of the many reasons." I reply, pecking his smooth cheek.

As the flight attendants start doing the safety demonstrations, preparing the cabin for takeoff, I start getting a bit nervous. Noah's grip on my hand tightens as he notices my uneasiness, and the stroke of his thumb against my skin reassures me as the plane leaves the ground.

Once we reach cruising height, the pilot informs us it's now safe to walk around the cabin, but advises we keep our seatbelts on for the duration of the flight. Noah takes the opportunity to stand up and look something in the overhead bin, his raised arms making his shirt ride up and giving me a peek of the smooth skin on his abdomen. He sits back down and hands me whatever he just took out of his bag, "It's a long flight, I figured you might need a little sugar boost," he says as I open the colorful packet of sourpatch kids gummies, and stuff a red one in my mouth.

"Ugh, why do you always have to be the best?" I ask with my mouth full.

"Because apparently there's competition for my spot as your boyfriend, and I'm trying to stay ahead of the race," I tilt my head and furrow my eyebrows at him, but he glides over his comment, leaning back and saying "Hit me," as he opens his mouth and I toss a blue gummy for him to catch. Naturally, he succeeds in doing so.

About half an hour into the flight, my eyes start feeling heavy and I lay my head down on Noah's lap, looking up at him as he stares out the window. "You're full of freckles, it's so adorable," I say, drowsily poking at the tiny one sitting right under the tip of his nose. He looks down at me with a sweet smile and strokes my cheek with the back of his hand as I close my eyes and slowly start dozing off.


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