Dear Bailey

Part 6

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Lucas

I was in a race against time. A race against the big booming voice of the airport announcer as she read our fate. Each time her voice cracked over the system my heart skipped a beat. I felt the sweat bead on my forehead as I waited with dread to hear my connecting flight information. Maybe I would just miss my plane. It must happen all the time, right? Unfortunately, as quickly as that though sped through my mind, the knowledge of what I'd gone through to get this chance to be home for a little while put the breaks on any chance I'd go through with it.

Damn it. A quick glance at my phone let me know that my flight was now back on the board and a tentative departure time had been set. Why did it feel like my life was being lived in short segments instead of some continuous timeline that I could finally get ahold of? I thought of the times I'd sat at the airport with a few of my Marine friends as we waited to board a plane from one base to another. Sometimes their girlfriends would meet them and I'd watch as the laughter and fun slowly drained from their faces and was replaced by loss and detachment. I never really understood it until that day.

In just over an hour I was going to have to leave her. I wondered if somewhere in her subconscious this time with me would be filed under another abandonment. I wondered if she would trust me to email, or if she'd already write me off as she stepped aboard her flight. My head was filled with so many things that I wanted to say to her, so many things I wanted to know, but our time was slipping by too quickly to achieve it all.

Her phone made a ding sound as it lit up and I swallowed down my disappointment. Her flight was probably scheduled to leave soon. I didn't even know where she was going. "Looks like we're getting out of here today after all," she said.

"So is your dad more of the retired-golf-every-day kind of guy? Or is he the grease-me-up-and-spend-my-nights-clubbing type?"

She laughed a little, "Are you trying to figure out where I'm going? Fort Lauderdale versus Miami? You get points for creativity for sure, but a little sneaky, and killers are sneaky too."

"How about if I tell you first? We can play a little game. I'll tell you something about me and then you tell me something equal about you. Killers don't play games." I rubbed my hands together and leaned back in my chair. I wasn't giving up until I knew where she was headed.

"I like games," she said with a smile.

"I'm eighteen years old."

"I'm seventeen," she volunteered right away.

"I have a younger brother."

"I have two younger sisters." I couldn't help the small laugh that bubbled up from my chest. She was playing along and enjoying it. It was making my day.

"I don't have a girlfriend...yet." I dipped my chin and stared into her eyes. She squinted hers in return.

"I don't have a boyfriend...right now." My heart soared.

"Favorite novel is The Yellow Birds."

"Looking for Alaska." She reached into her bag and grabbed a small container of lip balm. I watched as she dabbed her finger in and slowly swept it across her lips. I must have been mesmerized because she stopped and gave me a curious look. "Is it my turn to go first or something?"

I shook off the lust drunk feeling and tried to focus. What were we doing? Oh, the facts. "Um, I was born in Colorado."

"California."

"I like fishing, dirt bike riding, and surfing." She listened to me as she pressed her lips together, sliding them against each other and I wanted so bad to taste them. Was it cherry or mint?

She thought for a minute and then moved to rest her chin on her hand. "Dancing, reading, and surfing." Falling. I was falling for her over a small plastic table in some crowded stuffy airport. Maybe plastic furniture wasn't as terrible as I remembered it to be. The ominous voice cracked to life again and we both froze, staring over the table at each other as she announced the flights soon to board. Each city seemed to echo as I tried hard to memorize the options. The list was too long and the adrenaline pumping through my body made it impossible to remember them all.

I was just going to go for it. If she didn't trust me now, I'd just have to hope she would after I wrote her. I cleared my throat and tried to steady my heart rate. "Pensacola," I said flatly.

"Miami."