COMPLETED
All 16 year old Avianna Moorson wanted was an easy flight to sandy and beautiful Australia. No talking, no company and no distractions. But what happens, when the person forced to sit next to her leaves her at a loss for words?
"I thought for sure the word of the day would be coincidental."
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After an hour of still being on that Tarmac, the pair found themselves talking up a storm.
"I've always wanted to rollerskate," Logan admitted, clutching the open breakfast tray.
"You should try it. It's not that bad. The rush of wind blowing through your helmet as you glide and weave around the corner is unmatched. Nothing can compare to it," Avianna beamed. "See? Isn't talking like two mature adults better than going at each other's throat?"
"Please, I was never going for your throat. If anything I was going for the blanket that you stole," his emerald green eyes fluttered to the blanket covering both of them, then to her amused face.
"Well it doesn't look like you won, now does it?" she sneered watching as the lines of his mouth turned upwards.
"No.. I didn't. But I would have."
"Keep telling yourself that, Logan. "
"Oh I will," he gleamed. "So what's rollerskating like?"
"Have you ever ice skated before?" she drew a rather realistic picture of an ice skate on a pond of ice and held it up.
"Wow that's extremely detailed, " he took the sketchbook from her." You drew this?"
She shyly nodded. This gift, talent, whatever you'd call it was her secret. It was the one thing she didn't have to compete for and she enjoyed keeping it that way.
"Yeah," she fiddled with her bracelet and put a strand of hair behind her ear.
"It's amazing. " Logan involuntarily let his mind wander to when he was eight and his mother took him ice skating one night. The moon was the only thing lightening the crisp, new fallen snow as they trotted over fallen twigs behind an oakwood cabin.
His little legs stumbled through the snow while his mother squeezed his hand tightly. That night was the best night of his life, happily spinning in his mother's arms as she glided along the ice.
It was only years later when he realized why she had done it. Even when she had limped into his room to kiss him goodnight, he had no idea that her ribs had been bruised. Or that her cheeks weren't just red because they'd been bitten by the cold.
Downstairs, he could hear his father yelling, throwing a tantrum, holding a dark, glass bottle.
"Logan," Avianna shook him. "Have you ever ice skated before?"
He nodded, because if he spoke she would hear the fragility in his heart.
"Well, it's just like that except instead of blades, you have wheels."
"I'm kinda scared I'll fall on my face," Logan kicked the seat in front of him.
"That shouldn't stop you. You have to be spontaneous and throw caution to the wind," Avianna preached.
"Spontaneous?"
"The big word that starts with an S? You know to do things out of the ordinary?" Avianna said.
"I know what that word means," Logan gave her a jab in the elbow. "I'm just surprised."
"Why?"
"Because that's my word of the day," digging through his carry-on, he placed a word calendar in her palms.
"You have a word calendar?"
"Uh huh."
"That's not strange at all," she sarcastically flipped through the book.
"Hey, you have your things, I have mine," he swapped the sketchbook for his calendar.
"Huh, I thought for sure the word of the day would be coincidental."
"Why would the word of the day be coincidental?" he played with the rings on the book.
"I don't know. I just had a feeling."
This chapter you guys get a glimpse into Logan's past.
Also continuing with the previous chapters, I'll ask a question.
What has been the worst airplane food you have ever eaten?
