I look at Quinn, who shrugs. The game starts back up, and it’s easy to tell who Peyton is. I start to laugh as she controls her future husband on the screen and when things don’t go her way, she yells at him, almost as if he could hear her.
“Poor Noah. He’s not even here to defend himself,” I direct at Peyton. She rolls her eyes and continues her onslaught of Quinn, while I sit there, sandwiched in between my siblings.
When the game is over, Peyton jumps up and does a little cheer before sticking her hand out. “Pay up.”
“You made a bet with her?” I look at Quinn.
“I’ve been practicing,” he laments.
I point at Peyton. “And you don’t think she has? Geesh, Quinn, she lives with a quarterback. I’m sure they play all the time.”
“Noah loses too.” Peyton is very nonchalant about beating Noah as she pockets the money from Quinn. “Go grab your stuff, Quinn will take us to the airport.”
The beauty of having a private jet at our disposal is we don’t have to book tickets. Our dad works with the pilot to file the flight plan, and the pilot tells us when to be at the landing strip. Last night, I packed everything I would need, which isn’t much, and rush off to my room to grab my bag.
Peyton and Quinn are waiting for me, ready to leave. Outside, I stare at Ben’s door, wondering if I should text him one more time or wait for him to respond. Maybe I need to step back and give him some space, even if it hurts me.
The drive to the airport takes longer than anticipated because of traffic, the only thing I hate about this area. You have to time your departure right, or you could get stuck for hours, all because someone put on their brakes at the wrong time.
When we finally arrive, we tell Quinn to have a fun week without us and thank him for dropping us off. The desk agent is laughing at us when we enter the facility. She tells us the pilot’s waiting and to have a fun trip. The both of us run to the plane and climb the stairs. I come to a complete halt even with Peyton crashing into me.
“What gives,” she says. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.” There are red and white roses spread everywhere and
a bottle of champagne on the table. “You’re so lucky.”
“It’s our first time really apart like this,” Peyton says. I’m not even sure they’re from Noah, but who else would do this.
“What about during the season?”
“He’s home a couple of days a week, and I fly to him on Fridays.”
“I see.” Somehow, I knew this, but it didn’t really register. Peyton and I sit across from each other and buckle up. Our flight attendant has notified the pilot that we’re on board and ready and before I know it, we’re off the ground and soaring toward paradise.
The stewardess pops the cork on the champagne for us and pours us each a glass. “Thank you,” we both tell her. I reach across the table and tap my glass to my sister’s. “Here’s to a week of sun, sand, and whatever else we may do.”
“Like plan my wedding, talk about boys and eat our way through Aruba.”
I’m all for two of the three options she said, but talking about boys is something I don’t want to do. As I look around the cabin, I realize Peyton is living most girls’ fairy tales. I mean, what guy thinks about sending flowers ahead to decorate the inside of a plane? Noah does because he’s crazy in love with my sister. I’m happy for her, beyond happy actually, but jealous all the same. I want what they have. I want the all-consuming type of love where we each know what the other is thinking or where we may be in a room full of people.
“I want what you and Noah have.”
“What do you mean?” Peyton asks. I realize I hadn’t meant to say that aloud, but now that I have, Peyton’s looking at me expectantly.
“I want a guy who looks at me the way Noah looks at you. I want this”—I spread my arms out—“I want to walk in a room and search the crowd, only to feel my man coming behind me and when he touches me I know… I just know.”
“You have all that.”
“Pfft, with whom? I’ve never dated seriously since we were allowed to date. It’s not like my knight in shining armor is someone I know.”
“But he is,” she says.
“Who are you talking about?”
“Ben, of course.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me, P. He’s not even speaking to me right now, and I can guarantee you, we’re not even close to being on the same page as you and Noah.”