The Purple Beanie

On the Way to Germany

The plane was massive. Conner couldn't wrap his head around how something so big could get into the air. Even after witnessing all the magical things he had seen in the Land of Stories, it was still fascinating to him. They walked down the aisle and found their seats. Conner gulped when he realized how long he would have to spend in such a small area.

"Where is your seat, Mrs. Peters?" Mindy asked. All the seats around them were filling up fast.

"I'll be in first class," Mrs. Peters said. "But don't worry; if any of you need me, just have a flight attendant notify me. I'll be in row one, seat A. It's going to be a long flight, so get comfortable."

And with that said, Mrs. Peters promptly turned on her heel and pushed her way past the oncoming travelers to the front of the plane. Conner sat down in his seat by the window, and Bree sat next to him. He stared at the back of the seat in front of him for a moment; he had no idea how to start a conversation with her. Act cool, he frantically reminded himself. Act cool act normal act cool did I already say that -

"Are you okay by the window?" Conner asked her.

Bree looked confused. "But you're by the window," she said.

Conner wanted to smack his head against the stupid window - they weren't off to a good start. Oh no, I totally messed up, why did I say that, but I felt like I had to ask her something . . .

"Oh, right, what I meant to ask was if you wanted to sit by the window," he said. "I wouldn't mind switching seats."

"I'll be fine," Bree said. "I'm just going to read for most of the flight." She gestured to her bag, and Conner saw that it was full of thick murder-mystery novels. Bree kept getting cooler by the second. Oh wow, she's so cool, she reads scary stuff like that, while I'm obsessed with fairy tales.

"Great. Let me know if you change your mind," Conner said, and returned to staring at the seat in front of him until he thought of something else to say. "So, Mrs. Peters was telling me you like to write, too."

"Uh-huh." Bree nodded. "Short stories mostly. I read some of yours when I TA'd for Ms. York last year - they're cute. They remind me of classic fairy tales."

Conner couldn't believe his ears. Bree? Had read his stories? "You've read my stories?"

"Yup," Bree said. "I liked them a lot - especially the one about the Curvy Tree and the Walking Fish. Those were very clever."

"Thanks," Conner said, and blushed a deep shade of red. Not only had she read them, but she also remembered them. "Those were originally called the Curvy Giraffe and the Flying Frog, but I changed the titles to sound more . . . um . . . realistic. What kind of stories do you write?"

"I just finished one called 'Cemetery of the Undead,'" Bree said. "It's pretty self-explanatory."

Conner nodded a little too much to seem normal. "Sounds lovely."

He felt like an idiot talking about his fairy tales knowing that she wrote about things like cemeteries and zombies. How was he going to convince her he was cool when she was obviously the coolest person that ever lived? That's right, you're never going to. It's not like she's getting any less cool anytime soon, Conner thought in defeat.

"I've thought about changing up my genre," Conner said. "I think it'd be fun to write darker stories about things like that. Stories with vampires and werewolves, but no love triangles or anything -"

"Oh, Conner, I forgot I had something I was going to ask you," Bree said.

"Ask me anything," he said.