It had been a couple of days since Charlotte's party. Although it wasn't something I wanted to think about, some moments were still on my mind. Since then, Lindsay and I had exchanged a few messages. Not that we talked much, but she seemed hell-bent on keeping in touch. I answered just enough, maintaining my usual indifferent tone. She seemed to accept it, though she didn't understand why she bothered to try.
As I packed T-shirts into my suitcase without much order, my phone vibrated with a notification. A press release about the party appeared on the screen. Photos of Charlotte and Daniel, surrounded by smiling people, decorated the item. Lindsay was also in one of the images, in the background, smiling in a way that looked more like the camera than the real thing. I put the phone aside and focused on packing.
My father, as expected, would not be present to say goodbye. "Too much work," he always said. But it didn't bother me. I was used to it. I knew I wouldn't be alone on the journey; Lindsay and I had arranged to take the same plane to San Jose International Airport, the closest to the university. I wasn't sure how we had reached that agreement, but there we were.
As the sun began to set, my phone vibrated again. This time, it was a message from Lindsay.
"Are you ready for the flight yet?"
I sighed and decided to respond immediately. "Almost," I wrote, but something prompted me to call her instead of following up with messages.
"Hello?" She answered the second bell, in her light but curious tone.
"I'm almost done with the suitcases," I said bluntly.
"That doesn't answer my question," she replied, with a hint of derision.
"Yes, I'm ready. Happy? I replied, leaning on the edge of the bed as I spoke.
"I suppose. So, see you directly at the airport? she asked.
"Yes, where they always check the suitcases," I said, without thinking much about the logistics.
"Are you going to arrive early or will you show up just in time?" she joked.
"Just in time. I don't plan to wait any longer than I have to. My tone was neutral, but I knew she'd take the hint.
"Yes, now. See you there, Sack," she said, letting out a small laugh before hanging up.
I put the phone away and finished putting the rest of my things in the suitcase. The next day we would be at the airport. Studying medicine at the same university as Lindsay wasn't exactly what she had planned, but at least she knew it would be a change.
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The next day came quickly. I was at the airport, walking to the screening area with my suitcase rolling behind me. It didn't take me long to make out Lindsay, who was sitting near one of the windows. She wore a casual, if impeccable, outfit and seemed absorbed in watching the planes.
"You arrived just in time, as promised," she said when she saw me, rising to greet me.
"I told you I wasn't going to arrive sooner than necessary," I replied calmly, while giving her a small nod.
"First class?" She asked, looking at the tickets she was carrying in her hand.
"It's what my father bought," I replied, without giving it too much importance. For me, the seat didn't matter. As long as we got to the destination, it was fine.
Lindsay smiled softly. "I don't know why, but I always feel a little out of place in first class. I would prefer a simpler seat.
"Then change the ticket." I'm not sure you can do that here, though. My tone was neutral, but I couldn't help but add a slight sarcasm.
"It's not that easy, Sack. Besides, we're already here, aren't we? She answered, with that typical lightness of hers, as she began to walk towards the boarding line.
I didn't say anything else and just followed her. Despite our differences, traveling together made the whole process more bearable.
When we boarded the plane, I realized something wasn't right with the seats. My ticket was assigned seat 1A, but when I arrived I found someone else occupying it. It wouldn't have been a problem if they hadn't insisted that the mistake was mine.
"Excuse me, but this is my seat," I said to the flight attendant, showing my ticket a little more firmly than necessary.
"I'm sorry, sir, but it seems that there was a change in the system. Could you sit on 2C while we sort it out? She replied, maintaining a professional smile that did not help to calm my irritation.
"I'm not going to sit anywhere else. This is my seat, and I don't have to move because of a mistake you made. My tone became curt, completely ignoring the discomfort I was causing.
"Sack, it's not that bad. It's only a few minutes," Lindsay interjected, placing a light hand on my arm.
"It's not the point, Lindsay. If they paid for this seat, that's where it should be. I didn't lower my voice, although I did notice a few glances from the nearby passengers.
"Please, sir, we'll do our best to resolve this quickly," the assistant said, visibly tense.
Lindsay sighed and gave me a look that seemed to say "let it go." Finally, I grabbed my carry-on bag and moved to seat 2C, letting the matter die.
"See?" It wasn't that hard," Lindsay whispered as she settled into her seat next to me.
"It's a matter of principle," I replied, looking out the window.
She just shook her head and smiled, as if she was getting used to dealing with my attitude. The flight soon took off, and the silence between us was comfortable, though I felt Lindsay meant something else.