Page 1 of Betting on You

CHAPTER ONETHREE YEARS AGOBailey

The first time I met Charlie was at the airport in Fairbanks.

My dad had just said goodbye, so I was swallowing down heavy emotion as I left behind life as I knew it and prepared to fly to Nebraska, where my mother and I would now be living since my parents had officially separated. I lifted my chin and attempted to channelmaturityas I traversed the airport with my rolling pink carry-on, but every blink of my eyes held back a weighted homesickness for the place and the memories I was leaving behind.

It was when I got stuck in a long line of people waiting to go through security, sandwiched between strangers and stressing over whether or not my braces were going to set off the metal detector, that we made contact.

The line started moving, but I couldn’t take a step because the two people in front of me were kissing. Hard-core. As if theirmouths were fused together and they were desperately trying to pull them apart by turning their heads from side to side.

Or else they were eating each other’s faces off.

I cleared my throat.

Nothing.

I cleared my throat again.

Which made the guy open his eyes—I could only see one eye—and look directly at me.While still kissing the girl.As if that wasn’t weird enough, he saidto mewhile his lips were still attached to hers,“Oh my God—what?”

Which sounded likeomiguhdwhruut.

And then The Eye closed and they were full-on kissing again.

“Excuse me,” I said through gritted teeth, my emotional anxiety replaced by irritation, “but the line. The line is moving.”

The Eye opened again and the dude glared at me. He lifted his mouth and said something to his girlfriend that prompted them to actually move forward.Finally.I heard his girlfriend chirp about how much she was going to miss him, and I could see by his profile that he was kind of half smiling and not saying anything as they stumbled forward, hand in hand.

But I couldn’t get past the fact that they looked like they were my age.

What?

I was going into my freshman year. Of high school. People my age didn’t make out in public; they couldn’t even drive yet. People my age didn’t have the audacity to totallyget after itin the airport security line, where they could get in trouble.

So whowerethese obnoxious PDA renegades?

The girl stepped out of line and waved to the guy, probably relieved to finally be getting oxygen. After making it through security and reorganizing my things, I checked the time on my phone. I wanted to be right next to the door when the Jetway opened, so it was imperative that I get there as quickly as possible. I went around the face-eating jackass as he looked down at his phone, and I walked as fast as I could toward the departure gate.

It wasn’t until I took a seatrightnext to the check-in counter, where I couldn’t miss any pertinent announcements and would be guaranteed a spot at the very front of the line, that I was finally able to calm my nerves.

I scrolled through my phone, checked the airline’s app for updates, then put on my headphones and cued up the freshly curatedBailey’s Airplane Playlist. But as I sat back and watched the other travelers milling about the terminal, I couldn’t help but wonder how many ofthemwere being forced to go somewhere they didn’t want to go and start a new life they had no interest in beginning.

If I were a betting person, I’d say zero.

I had to be the only person in that entire airport who was going on what was the polar opposite of a trip. I had a ticket to my own transplantation, and it sucked. I dwelled on this for the entirety of the hour wait, especially when Adorable Family of Four plopped down across from me, looking like poster children for the Disney resorts as they bounced around with palpable travel enthusiasm.

The sight of their familial bliss made me want to snuggle withthe tiny scrap of blankie I still slept with (even though no one knew) and cry just a little.

So to say I was tightly wound by the time we lined up to board would be an understatement. I was first in line—hell yes—but buzzing with myownbrand of palpable energy. My gurgling turmoil saw Adorable Family’s enthusiasm and raised the pot by a hundred.

“Hey, you.”

I looked to my left, and there was the face-eating jackass from security, smiling at me as if we were friends.

“I looked everywhere for you, babe.”

I glanced behind me at the rest of the boarding line, because he couldn’t possibly be talking to me. But when I turned back around, he was actually moving marginally closer, forcing me to take a step over so he could stand beside me. He nudged my shoulder with his and winked.

What in the actual hell?Was he high?

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