Here We Go Again

"Someone left this for you."

I glanced over at my mom, eyebrows raised. She held out a plain white envelope, and I frowned. My stomach flipped over simply because of the way she said someone.

After hurrying outside the arena and driving home as fast as was semi-legal and safe, I had crashed back in my room. Had it been any other day but Christmas, my parents would have questioned me, but they were still asleep - and I was almost positive they had no notion that I had been gone. I had had a tumultuous nap, drifting in and out of sleep it seemed every two minutes. And now that I had finally struggled down the stairs for supper, my mother had decided to drop this bomb on me.

"Who?" Came the question, even though I was almost certain of the answer.

My mom shook her head, extending her arm further. I reluctantly took the envelope, turning and heading into the living room. I sat down on the couch, staring at the white paper sitting limp in my hands. I slowly lifted the unsealed flap, reaching my fingers inside the envelope and pulling out two items. One was a simple, small sheet of paper with familiar scribbled writing on it; the other was much bigger and thicker paper with the words Air Canada printed on the front.

My heart nearly stopped. This was way too much excitement for me. And not good kind of excitement either; this was more of the heart-attack causing excitement.

I managed to tear my eyes away from the red writing, long enough to focus on the tiny square of paper.

Veronica,

Edmonton. One week. Think about it. Airport tomorrow, 10:00.

Taylor

Short. Simple. To the point.

I couldn't.

Could I?

Why can't you, Ronnie?

***

I couldn't believe I was doing this. The jerk... He knew I'd say yes. Part of me felt like not going, just to get some satisfaction in knowing that I had been strong enough to say no. But that part of me was incredibly small. The rest of me was aching to be near him again, although I had no idea what would come of this. I was trying not to think too much. I didn't have the answers to the questions I was asking inside my head, and I was trying to just go with it. Things couldn't get much worse between us, could it? Maybe this would do us some good. Maybe we could be friends after this.

As the voice in my head scoffed at the ridiculous idea, I pushed it away and handed my ticket to the attendant.

***

I was one of the last ones on the plane. I stepped onto the aircraft, my purse slung over my shoulder and my arms crossed over my chest. I gave a weak smile to the flight attendant at the door and turned into the seating area of the plane. My eyes scanned down the aisle, and almost immediately found the blond head I was looking for. My heart jumped, and I swallowed, hard. What was I doing?

He was looking out the window, and my heart nearly broke at the look on his face. He looked... Sad. Disappointed. Had he really thought I wouldn't come?

I was so busy watching him that when he turned his head to the front of the plane and our eyes met, I jumped a bit. His eyes widened in surprise, and I knew that, now that he had seen me, there was no turning back.

Yeah, right, Ronnie. Like you would have turned back anyway.

I picked my bag up higher on my shoulder and tore my eyes away. I hurriedly walked forward to where he was seated. I noticed that he was on the outside, and I immediately felt awkward as he stood up to let me through. I knew he tried to stop all bodily contact, but his chest and my back touching was inevitable. I ignored the nerves and sat by the window, awkwardly setting my purse on my lap and running a hand through my hair. It was silent, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Taylor sit down again and look forward. He glanced at me for a moment and I looked down at my shoes.

"Thanks."

I laughed quietly, almost bitterly. "You knew I would come."

Taylor shook his head, leaning back in his seat. "I really thought you weren't going to," he said honestly.

I bit my lip, leaning back in my seat as well. I rested my head against the headrest, staring up at the lights and compartments where the oxygen masks were kept. The pilot saved us momentarily from tense, awkward silence as he went through the boring, yet neccessary safety rules and survival guidelines.

Taylor spoke up a few moments after the pilot went off the air. "This is your seat," he informed me, gesturing at the one he was sitting in. "But I know you like window seats, so I thought you could have that one."

I looked at him in surprise. He gave me a tiny smile before closing his eyes and resting his head against the seat. As much as I wanted to be mad at him for being so nice to me, I couldn't. Things were so much easier when I could be mad at him.

It was then that I knew that I was in for a long week.