Page 14 of Fly with Me

The girl behind the counter popped a chewing gum bubble to get their attention. “I need a credit card from someone.”

Apparently, they’d been staring at each other for several seconds like at the rental car desk.

Olive slid her card into the chip reader. “I still owe you for the peanut butter.”

Stella gave a tiny smile and nod.

They took their coffee and snacks outside and found a bench. It was a gorgeous, balmy night, and part of Olive couldn’t quite believe she was sitting here. Insects buzzed around the high streetlamp illuminating the spot. The last twenty-four hours seemed too surreal. She spread peanut butter on several pieces of bread and alternated drinking coffee and water.

Stella violently bit the head off a Swedish Fish.

“Breakfast of champions?”

Stella smirked. “Not exactly breakfast for me. They remind me of my childhood. It’s a guilty pleasure snack. I used to eat them after exams in college. They were my reward.”

“I love them too.”

Stella held out the bag. “Want one?”

“Probably another nonconventional pre-marathon food, but yes. I’d love one. They were my go-to movie theater snack choice. My favorite.” The red gummy tasted exactly the way Olive remembered from the movie nights with her brother. He picked peanut butter M&M’s, but it was always the weird red fish for her. Her dentist parents had always been anti-candy, so she never took it for granted growing up. Olive exhaled dramatically after she swallowed. “Ah. That’s the stuff.”

Stella chuckled, then put a fish on her tongue and flicked it back into her mouth. It was only mildly pornographic. “How are you feeling about the video, Olive?”

Olive’s shoulders slumped. “Weird.” She inhaled the comforting scent of her hazelnut coffee, staring at a cluster of pines thrashing in a sudden gust of breeze. She’d have to think about the going-viral stuff tomorrow. Not today. Today was about the race. And Jake.

“Is anyone meeting you at the race?” Stella sipped her coffee.

Olive forced down a thick swallow of peanut butter. “No, uh—my family was going to come. But… I don’t think they are anymore.”

An unreadable expression appeared on Stella’s face before changing back to an encouraging smile. “Well, I think you’re going to do great. And it will be great. Happiest place on earth, right? I’m sure that the races there are a blast.”

Olive found herself smiling too. Something about Stella’s positivity was contagious. “Right.”

After they finished up their drinks and food, they got back in the car. When they arrived at the hotel, the area outside was packed for 3:30 A.M., as if lots of other people were getting in late and desperate to get to the race on time. Olive barely had time to say goodbye before a hotel staff member directed Stella to drive off to let the next car come up to the curb.

This hurried farewell meant that Olive was saved from the catastrophic mistake of asking Stella to come to the race. That would have been super weird, since (a) they’d only just met and (b) it was a weird fucking thing to ask someone to come to “watch” you run for four hours. She rushed to the concierge desk to drop her luggage, then called an Uber to take her to get her bib at the emergency bib pickup.

Her leg twitched during the ride over to the arena. All her muscles were tight. As soon as the car stopped, she flew out the door. When she said her name at the bib table, a cast member did a double take.

“We’ve been trying to get ahold of you, Ms. Murphy,” said a slightly balding man looking more harried than anyone should look at the happiest place on earth.

Olive’s face fell. What now?

Chapter 7

“You need to come with me.” The man rubbed sweat from his shiny head with a towel as he ushered her down a hallway.

“Oh?” Olive flipped her phone anxiously in her hand. Was the reservation bad? Were they going to tell her she couldn’t run, after all the effort to get here?

Too nervous and confused to ask questions, Olive followed and was greeted in a large conference room by three other people, two in suits, all wearing bright, toothy smiles. She focused on the suited man whose smile seemed to boast the highest wattage. “Is there a problem with my bib? Please, I really need to run today.”

He chuckled. “No, we saw the footage of what happened when you saved Mr. Feldstein’s life.”

“Mr. Feldstein? Was that the man on the plane? Is he okay?” Olive clasped her hands in front of her.

“He’s doing fine. Mr. Feldstein’s a very beloved cast member here, and we’d love to do some press photos with you after the race. He’ll be here tomorrow, and we thought we could get a photo op of the two of you too.”

Olive frowned. “You want to do press photos with me after I run thirteen miles?” After her last long run she looked like she’d been dragged on the pavement for the last few miles. “I’m worried I’m not going to be able to physically walk back to the shuttle bus to get to my hotel after. I’m not sure I’ll be in any state to take photos.”

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