CHAPTER 2
THEODORE
Jesus Christ, how am I supposed to concentrate withthiswoman sitting beside me?
The scent of her fruity shampoo is so intoxicating that I want to bury my face in her hair. Notes of mandarin, strawberries, pineapple, and lychee flood my senses, making me slyly glance to the side to stare at her dark pink lips. Does she have any idea how good she smells? Is this intentional or accidental witchcraft? Either way, a spell has been cast on me. I’ve been enchanted by some secret Hawaiian shampoo-voodoo.
I wonder if she tastes as good as she smells.
What? Where the heck did that thought come from? I shake my head vigorously to get the ideas out, like a dog shaking water out of his fur. Dammit—I really need to focus. My article is due soon. I can’t afford this type of distraction! My whole career is on the line, and Henrietta won’t hesitate to fire my ass if she’s disappointed with my work again.
To be fair, I did ask Leilani if I could move over here.
And it wasn’t just because of the portly gentleman originally sitting beside me, whose stomach was obscuring my view of my laptop. It wasn’t just because of the size of the growing snot bubble created by the snoring sumo wrestler. He was actually rather delightful company. Before he fell asleep, he laughed so hard at my jokes that it felt like it created turbulence.
Or maybe that was just flatulence.
At any rate, he was entirely tolerable. I’ve endured worse flights.
But seeing the dark-haired woman sitting alone, a few rows ahead of me—her silhouette called to mind long-buried memories. Her hair slightly messy and frizzy—like she tried to style it, but then just gave up and preferred to be wild. I gazed at her for a few minutes, mesmerized. She reminded me so much of someone I used to know—it was like looking at a ghost.
For a moment, I just stared, wishing it was her.
When her head tilted to the side so she could look out the airplane window, I felt a lump grow in my throat. The girl I remember so well had an identical, gorgeous, unruly mane of dark hair. I imagine it’s her, and that she would turn around and see me and smile, but I know it’s impossible.
Anyway, I was staring at the back of the strange woman’s head more than I was working, so I decided to gather the courage to act, and pack up my laptop and head over here to sit beside her. It was the only option to calm my curiosity and chaotic thoughts, to see that she really wasn’t the person I fantasized she could be.
But once I was seated here, getting a good look at her face and hearing the sound of her voice, which are both nothing like the girl I mistook her for, other issues began to arise. Other weird sensations and feelings. Other… bodily responses.
Her flowy, chiffon summer dress is pale orange, reminding me of mangoes or a citrusy fruit. It contrasts beautifully with her smooth dark skin, which has been thoroughly tanned by the Hawaiian sun.
When she speaks, her voice and attitude is sharp and decisive. She’s tough. Despite her soft features, soft clothing, soft skin I wish I could touch, soft lips I wish I could kiss—sorry, I get distracted easily. There’s a certain hardness in her facial expression, in the set of her jaw. Like she’s seen some shit. Like she doesn’t trust anyone easily, anymore. Like she’s wearing an invisible suit of armor over that delicate pastel summer dress.
She looks like she’s wearing only chiffon, but really she’s wearing steel.
I know this, because I see a familiar glint in her eyes, along with tiny flecks of amber— a familiar fire. It’s both uncanny and intoxicating—she really does remind me of a girl I once knew. A girl who grew up alongside me, my best friend for so many years. A tomboy through and through. Even when she grew up, and put on pretty dresses, and other feminine accessories, I could see right through it all to the person she really was.
She looked beautiful, but it always felt like a costume to me, because I knew her heart—I knew her strength. My little warrior. Fierce and loyal and unstoppable. She was a force of nature. She could do anything she put her mind to. She was indomitable.
I can feel that same strength radiating off Leilani now.
I’ve known her only a few minutes, but I find myself wondering if there are any cracks in her armor, or if it’s just an impenetrable wall. There must be a weak spot where she might open up, let me see the real her and be close. I wonder if she would be soft with me, and take off the steel she uses to defend against the rest of the world. Even for a moment.
It’s silly. Ridiculous.
But I can’t help thinking that I would really like to be her friend.