C: This isn’t a ritual exactly, but I do have a superstition about the song “The Way” by Fastball. Have you heard it?

D: It sounds a little familiar? But I couldn’t sing it for you or anything. (You wouldn’t want me to sing regardless—I have a terrible voice.)

He almost caught himself responding to that, saying something along the lines of how he was sure her voice was just fine. But of course that was ridiculous, because he’d never heard her speak, let alone sing, and surely she would be in a better position to judge than he would. It was a knee-jerk reaction to her talking badly about herself.

C: Well, don’t look it up. That’s part of the superstition.

D: That you can’t look up the song?

The plane was starting to descend, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he hurried to type his explanation.

C: There’s something about when that song comes on. I’ve heard it in a grocery store, once at a Waffle House. It’s serendipity. You can’t seek it out or you’ll ruin it. It has to find you, not the other way around.

D: You could say the same thing about most songs that come over the radio. What makes this one different?

C: I don’t know, but it’s special. Trust me.

D: Now I’m worried I won’t know the song when I hear it. Since I can’t look it up to study beforehand.

C: You’ll know. Just keep your ears open.

His were starting to kill him. He couldn’t remember it being this bad on other flights, but he’d also stayed in one position for a longer period of time than he usually did. He opened his jaw as if to yawn, stretching until he felt his ears pop.

D: Can I look up the lyrics?

Chris had never codified all the rules of this superstition. It lived in his gut, not his head. He didn’t even know what the superstition wasabout—what the song was supposed to be an omen of, or what good luck it brought if you heard it. He just knew that it had to be protected.

C: I don’t even know all the lyrics. I have no idea what the song is about and I don’t want to know. It’s more a vibe than anything else. Like seeing a double rainbow.

D: I feel like that may be more common than hearing this song.

He grinned.

C: Exactly.

D: Imagine one day you meet this band and you say, “I love your song so much I refuse to ever purposely listen to it.”

Someone jostled the seat next to him, and he looked up. It was Randy, standing in the aisle with his bag already over his shoulder.

“Hey, man, you gonna bunk down on the plane?”

Half the team had already deboarded, and the other half were lined up in the aisle, still laughing and talking but with a bit of that bleary-eyed look that said everyone was looking forward to getting to the hotel and calling it a night.

Chris glanced back down at his phone. Three new messages had come in from Duckie after the last one, and he could tell his silence had made her second-guess herself.

D: Maybe that is the purest form of love tho

D: Am I allowed to Wikipedia the band?

D: Okay, I’ll let the song come to me organically. Appreciate you giving me the heads-up so I didn’t spoil the magic for myself.

“Who you chatting with?” Randy asked, craning his neck to see over Chris’ shoulder. “You got yourself a girl?”

He could feel the tips of his ears go hot as he rushed to send one last message before putting his phone away. “Nah,” he said. “It’s no one.”

SIX

Just landed. Have a good night.