Chelsea hung back and followed Trevor from a distance. She wasn't sure where to go for the next flight and hoped he would lead her to the gate unaware she was following him. Somewhere in the crowd she lost sight of him and found herself somewhat lost. She took a deep breath and made her way on her own with a little help from a couple airport security staff.

Trevor had made a quick turn towards a restaurant and unintentionally gave Chelsea the slip. He found a seat at a small table and waited to order his dinner. He had ignored an email that arrived on his phone before the flight from Portland and had received another after arriving in New York. Once again, the email from his father that, based on the subject line, would have conveyed his father's disappointment about his latest indiscretion, was left unread. The other from his stepmother simply asked where he was going. He didn't want to reply, instead, he opened the Facebook app and posted a photo from the airport restaurant. It was then that he noticed a post on her page. The photo was of her with his brother and sister at the luggage carousal in Sydney. He studied the photo for a moment, but Trevor couldn't read past the first few words of the post, "Family Vacation."

He sat alone watching the bubbles on his Sprite form and rise in the glass. The Facebook post fueled his anger. What was once a faint idea had become a plan. The Plan. He wouldn't return. Not to Well Stone. Not to the US. He would find some place in Europe and forget about his life back home.

When Chelsea arrived at the gate, she noticed some passengers lined up at the counter. She fell in behind the last person in line, unsure of what she was supposed to do before getting on the flight. The gate attendant checked her boarding pass and assured her everything was in order and suggested a quick dinner at one of the places near the gate.

Chelsea wandered off to get a sandwich and a drink then returned to the boarding area. Her eyes scanned the area as she found a seat but didn't see Trevor anywhere. She attempted to pass the time eating the sandwich and occupying her mind with reading and writing in her journal but couldn't stop her eyes from searching the crowd for any sign of him. She joined the line after the boarding announcement and continued to look for him until she was on the jet way. On the plane she found her seat and stowed her pack. The emptiness of his seat rekindled her fear that he may have changed his travel plans.

Trevor arrived at the gate for the flight and joined the last few passengers as they prepared to board the plane. His eyes didn't scan the crowd for anyone. He didn't look for any familiar faces. He stared blankly ahead as he moved towards his escape.

He waited patiently in the aisle as others stowed their bags, then ducked into an open seat to allow them to pass before continuing his slow walk towards his seat. Chelsea had her head down as she tucked a little pillow and blanket under the seat in front of her. He hadn't seen her until he arrived at her side and noticed the familiar colours of her school uniform.

Chelsea's smile wasn't reflected in his after she sat up. He double checked his boarding pass then stowed his pack in the overhead compartment beside hers. He barely spoke as he took his seat by the window. The Trevor that settled in beside her wasn't the one she had seen for almost two years at school, he wasn't the one on the flight from Portland. He was the version of himself that she had seen in those times over the past week when others weren't watching; perhaps even a colder, darker version she hadn't seen before.

"Are you sure you're in the right seat?" he asked.

"Yes," Chelsea replied softly, regret flooding in as she choked on the single word.

This was not how their conversation played out in her dreams. He was silent as he glared out the window. Chelsea came to the realization that her plan to follow Trevor was flawed from the start. He wasn't just disinterested, he seemed to carry some sort of distain for her. As the plane rolled out to the runway, she wished she had just stayed in Lewiston.

An hour and a half into the flight the captain turned on the seat belt sign and warned the passengers of potential turbulence. Shortly after the announcement, the plane began to shake. The first few jolts were noticeable but hardly cause for concern. Then, the plane dropped and shook more violently. Chelsea gripped Trevor's arm and pressed herself against him. Her body trembled and, as the plane dropped again, she let out a little cry.

"Relax, it's just a little turbulence," he said coldly.

"What's happening?" she asked.

"It's just air currents that make the plane... bounce a little," he replied.

Chelsea eased her grip slightly then clenched tight again when the plane bounced again.

"You call this 'a little'—how long is it going to do this?"

The rattling sound in the overhead panel drew her eyes upward for a moment. She closed her eyes tight and buried her face in his arm, fearing the compartment would come down on top of them.

"Hard to say, maybe a couple minutes, maybe a bit longer," Trevor said.

As the shaking came to an end, Chelsea released her grip on Trevor's arm completely. She slipped back into the center of her seat and turned her eyes towards the floor. Her heart still raced, and her body trembled.

"Thank you," she said, briefly looking towards him.

"For what?" he asked.

"Letting me hold your arm."

"Sure." His reply was cold. Indifferent.

The seatbelt sign was turned off a while later and flight attendants made their way through the plane with drinks before the food service. They exchanged glances as the drinks were served, but his eyes returned to the window and avoided her for a while.

"You said you're going on a cruise. On the flight from Portland, you told everyone you were going on a cruise. Is it a Mediterranean cruise?" Trevor asked.

Chelsea shook her head then quietly spoke. "There's no cruise."

"So, you lied about a cruise, but you're going to Barcelona. Why do I get the feeling it isn't just coincidence that you ended up in the seat next to me? Where are you staying in Barcelona? What hotel?" he asked impatiently.

"Same."

"Same?" Trevor paused, "You mean same as me? You're staying in the same hotel as me?"

Chelsea nodded.

"I don't believe this," he said shaking his head. "How the hell did you know where I was going, what seats I selected. How the hell did you find out? I didn't even tell my friends."

"You printed your stuff to the library printer. I was bringing them to you but when I got there you already printed in the commons, and..." she replied shyly.

"And what? You thought it would be cool to just—" Trevor hesitated "—whatever. You know, I'm not surprised. It's just the sort of thing Stacy would do, so I guess we should expect you would do the same."

The lady across the aisle looked over at Trevor with a scowl. He was looking through Chelsea rather than at her and noticed the glaring look from the elderly passenger. He brought the level of his voice down, but his voice still held the angry tone.

"Why the hell would you follow me? I don't even know you. You don't know me."

"I'm sorry," Chelsea said softly with her eyes tightly shut.

The woman across the aisle seemed poised to pounce on Trevor when the flight attendant pulled the food cart up to the row. The attendant handed out a light snack and drinks. He remained silent while eating and for some time after the trays and cups had been collected. Chelsea had barely touched her food. The few bits she did take in fought against her.

Trevor was forced to break the silent treatment to get up from his seat. His words were polite in syntax but cold in their delivery. Chelsea settled back into her seat after he had walked away. The old lady across the aisle gave a sympathetic look before turning back towards the video screen in front of her.

When Trevor returned, Chelsea stood up and made her way to the lavatory. The woman's frigid stare from across the aisle, made Trevor uneasy as he settled back into his seat. He looked away but still felt her eyes digging into the side of his head. Even as she gazed at the video screen in front of her and laughed, he felt her stare. He heard the woman's voice even though she didn't speak to him. He heard her scolding him and felt ashamed, as if the woman had publicly chastised him. Even the flight attendant that made her way through the cabin with cups and a bottle of water seemed to get in on the act. She asked others if they would like water, but the single word that was sent his way, "Water!?"seemed as cold as the drink itself.

Trevor looked back towards the lavatory to see if Chelsea was still waiting in line. She had been gone for at least ten minutes. A few minutes later he checked again and still didn't see her. He wondered if she had located an empty seat and moved, abandoning her things until she could retrieve them after landing. He got up and walked towards the back of the aircraft to look for her.

"There you are," he said when he found her standing in the galley in the middle of the plane.

Chelsea acknowledged with brief eye contact but didn't speak. She returned her gaze towards the floor. The flight attendant that was busily working in the galley gave him a cold stare then left the area with a garbage bag in hand.

"I'm sorry. I was acting like a complete asshole. That's no excuse, but..." Trevor said as Chelsea's eyes slowly made their way up from the floor, "there's a reason I'm on this trip and... none of that is your fault. I'm pissed with my family and I'm taking it out on you. You didn't deserve any of that. I'm sorry."

Chelsea looked at Trevor. He had turned his eyes away from her and fixed them on a coffee carafe in the galley. She didn't see the angry look he sported earlier, nor did she see the happy and carefree Trevor she had seen at school. Standing next to her was the broken stranger she had seen over the past week; the same strange individual that took Trevor's place when his friends weren't around.

"I'm sorry I did this. When we get to Barcelona I'll get back on a plane and go home," Chelsea said.

"Don't be silly. You're going all that way you may as well spend a little bit of time seeing the city," Trevor said. "Besides, the hotel will charge you for the room and customs will be a little suspicious about making a day trip like that."

"I promise, once we get off the plane you won't see me again," she replied.

"Tell me. Why would you do this? Why would you follow someone you don't even know on a trip like this? Did Stacy have anything to do with this?"

"No, she thinks I'm staying in a hotel in Lewiston for the break," Chelsea said as she shook her head. "I know it's stupid, and totally something she would do."

"Is doing!" Trevor interrupted. "She's going to Florida for the break because that's where Mr. Andrews is going. He's super pissed! She's been telling people he's following her to Miami and is making plans to hook up. Is it true that she bought some slutty lingerie the other day at the mall?"

"Well, yeah, as slutty as the stuff at JC Penny gets. If it makes you feel, well, not so pissed with me, I didn't tell anybody I was doing this."

The galley became a little busier with two flight attendants working the area. Trevor said, "Let's go back to our seats. I promise to be nice. Plus, we should get some sleep, it'll be mid day in Barcelona when we get there, and you don't want to spend your first day sleeping."

"Good idea. I'm sorry," she said.

"It's fine," he replied.

"I mean, well, yeah, I'm sorry for doing this, but also sorry about your family and whatever happened—"

Trevor smiled and nodded his head towards the aisle before starting to walk back towards their seats.

As the plane made the approach for landing in Barcelona, Trevor traded places with Chelsea to let her take in the view. She gazed out the window of the plane much like she did the library window back home. Her eyes took in the view, but she may as well have been staring at the floor. They were fixed beyond the window but not really looking at anything in particular right up to the time the plane parked at the gate.

Trevor was being pleasant, but still didn't seem happy to have her tagging along. She had imagined a much different reception and was sure he would put as much space between them once he wasn't confined to the plane.

As passengers hurried to get off the plane Chelsea remained seated. Trevor retrieved her pack from the overhead compartment, placed it on the seat beside her and waited for a moment. She thanked him, and he waited a few seconds longer. It was clear she was going to wait until he had left before getting up herself, so he joined the precession of travelers towards the exit.