Page 16 of Passenger Princess

“Mmm,” he says, his head never looking toward me as he continues to scan the area as if someone is going to jump out at any moment and try to kidnap me.

I let out a small laugh, pressing on his arm to give him a friendly shove, but he doesn’t even move, not the tiniest sway. “You know you can relax a bit, right? We have security for the Governor of New Jersey up there. If someone was a safety risk, it would be him, not me.”

Jaime’s face doesn’t move to look at me when he speaks. Instead, he stares straight ahead, scanning. “My job,” he says.

“Did you magically forget how to use full sentences when you realized I was your assignment, or do you just hate me?”

“I don’t hate you, I'm just doing my job.”

I roll my eyes again, looking at the blue sky with exhaustion. My mouth opens to say something before my name is called.

“Ava!”

It’s a kid's voice, and when I turn, a girl, maybe twelve years old, is quickly walking my way with her dad. I slow my steps.

“Ava! I’m a huge fan!”

I turn away from Jaime and the group, moving to the girl with a wide smile.

“I’m so sorry, I told her you were busy,” her dad says, an apology written on his face.

“Goodness, no!” I say. “I’m so happy you stopped me to say hi!”

“I’m a huge fan. You’re so cool! I’ve been watching you since you won the New Jersey pageant! I can’t believe that was your first one!” She’s cute, with wide green eyes and brown curly hair pulled back in a ponytail, a pink T-shirt, and a purple skirt with a pair of white sneakers.

“Oh, god, don’t remind me! Did you see me trip up the steps?” I ask with a self-deprecating laugh because I did trip up the stairs during the New Jersey pageant during the interview section. I laughed it off, making a joke about it to the announcer. Some articles attributed that “real” moment to the start of my becoming the sweetheart, fan favorite of the Miss Americana pageant.

Some have even speculated I did it on purpose, and it’s pretty fucking embarrassing to have to tell people you aren’t nearly as smart as they think you are, just a total klutz.

The girl laughs and nods. “I did, but it made me like you more. I’m pretty clumsy, too.” She lifts a pink cast on her arm, which I hadn’t noticed before, with signatures all over it.

“Clumsy girls are the best girls. We’re having too much fun to worry about silly things like gravity.”

She smiles wide before nodding. “I’m starting dance lessons at First Position next week because of you!” she says.

“No way! Oh, my goodness, you’re going to have so much fun! Make sure you tell Jules I said hi!”

“I will!” She looks at me and then at her dad, suddenly nervous. “Can we get a picture?”

“Only if you let me sign your cast, too,” I say, pulling a Sharpie from my pocket. Giving out signatures has been one of the strangest parts of this new change in my career, but I'm more than happy when it’s for cute girls like this one.

Her eyes go wide before she jumps up, clapping. “Oh my god, my friends will be so jealous!”

I laugh, signing my name to the cast before taking a photo. “Can you send me that photo?” I ask, and her eyes go wide as she nods. I give her dad my email so he can send it.

“Bye!” I say with a wave. “I can’t wait to hear updates from Jules on your dancing!”

“Thank you, really,” the girl’s dad says, genuine appreciation in her eyes. He lowers his voice. “She’s always being made fun of for her clumsiness—she has dyspraxia, and it makes things a bit harder for her. You just made her day.”

My heart warms at his confession. “I’m more than happy. If you ever need anything, you have my email now,” I say with the tip of my chin toward his phone. He gives me a smile, and the two return back to where they were before she ran my way.

Jaime and I make our way back to the group. We’ve almost closed the gap when Jaime initiates a conversation for the first time.

“That wasn’t safe, Ava,” he says, low and irritated, as we reach the back of the pack.

“What?”

“That wasn’t safe. You have no idea if those people had good intentions.”

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