Page 48 of Implode

Nic: Hell, Tara is seated right beside you?

Claire: Yup.

Nic: This is a fucking disaster. I’m sorry.

Claire: Get the bail money ready. If she doesn’t keep herself in line, we may break out into a fight. Who do you think will win?

Nic: You are not helping my anxiety. Just ignore her. She is toxic.

Claire: She is not making it easy…

Nic: Just remember that I am on Team Claire. :)

There is something oddly comforting having Nic to chat with, even though I am sitting beside his ex-fiancée and my ex-friend. I know he wants to pursue me. Nic has made himself very clear on that subject, but he also doesn’t know the secret I am hiding. Part of me wants to pretend for a little while longer that nothing has changed. I am just me. I don’t have any added responsibilities. It is fun to flirt and have that level of anticipation bubbling inside over the start of something fresh. I allow myself to believe—just for a moment—that I am carefree.

In another time, in another world…maybe we could have been perfect for one another.

“Bubbly?” the flight attendant asks, cutting right through my serenity.

I shake my head, declining the complimentary champagne. So much for trying to forget. The flight attendant finishes taking orders, formally introduces himself to our section, and then goes through the routine speech of all the safety protocols. Switching my phone to airplane mode, I lean my weight toward the window as we taxi to the runway.

I have flown more times this year than I have in previous years. I never really had a reason to travel before now. While this trip is not an elective one, at least I can get away from the hustle and bustle of my day-to-day life and adapt to another type of chaos that will most likely ensue at my childhood home.

I can use this time to reflect and rejuvenate my mind. How I proceed through life is almost always a choice. I can choose to be happy or choose to hold on to the past.

I grip my seat as the pilot turns the plane, announces departure, and speeds down the runway. After a few minutes of being in the air and reaching our required altitude, the flight attendant delivers Tara a tall glass of champagne, which she eagerly accepts.

“Not used to you refusing free alcohol. Are your wasted days over?” she asks, looking at me with an evil eye.

“I never used to get wasted in high school, Tara.”

“Riggght.”

“That’s just what you’d tell everyone I was into.”

She gives me a once-over, trailing her eyes over my body until she settles them back on my eyes. “Look at you being so self-righteous. You’ve come a long way.”

I shrug and try to find anything else to do with my hands so they don’t accidentally end up in her face. “Whatever,” I sigh.

“You were always an attention whore, who never cared if the rumors were true or not anyway. It’s not like you really tried to deny anything.”

“Maybe I was just doing you a favor by playing along with your narrative.”

“What did Nic ever see in you?” she asks, her tone serious. “You are an obvious downgrade from me. But we ended years ago, so I’m sure he has a huge list of women he bagged. You weren’t the first and you definitely won’t be the last.”

Ew. I feel like I need to wash Tara’s nastiness from my body. She is that gross. “Listen,” I say, sitting up straighter in my seat, “this is not a short flight. I really just want to avoid talking to you. So let’s make that happen.”

“You know why Nic can’t commit?” She doesn’t even give me a chance to ignore her, before answering her own question. “Because I am it for him. I will forever be the girl who slipped through his fingers. I am the woman he compares all others to. How does it feel to never live up to my own standard? I set the bar that all of his flings will never reach.”

I would be lying if I said Tara’s words were not causing me some internal damage. She is so confident that it is easy to believe them. Maybe that has been it all this time. Maybe no woman will ever hold a candle to his beloved first love.

I dig through the bag at my feet and pull out my journal. If I am going to avoid Tara’s damaging words, I need to get my mind to focus elsewhere.

* * *

I was afraid to fall asleep on the flight, so when we land at Reagan National Airport just before eleven at night, I am exhausted and barely able to keep my eyes open. I stumble off the plane, unceremoniously part ways with Tara, and trudge to baggage claim.

With a nearly empty airport and being one of the last arrivals for the night, it doesn’t take long for my empty pink-and-white-striped suitcase to make its way along the conveyor belt. All of my clothes and toiletries are stuffed in my carry-on bag, leaving my bigger piece of luggage free for bringing anything back from home. Mom didn’t make it very clear how much space I need, so I am basically winging it.

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