“Long Distance” Part 10

Part X: Last Stop

                “In a few minutes, we’ll be making our decent into the San Diego area. On behalf of myself and the crew, I want to thank you for flying with us tonight. We hope to see you again,” the captain said over the PA.

Royce looked at his watch. 9:36. Close enough. Royce tucked the letter into the pocket of his sweater. Call Bing. Hit baggage claim. Call Chelsie. He felt the plane angle downwards.

It had been a mostly quiet flight. Royce thought that most of the passengers were on central or east coast time and had decided to sleep. The cabin was half-empty, anyway. Royce looked out the window and saw the lights of San Diego, of home. His heart began to beat faster. What the hell am I going to say?

                The plane landed uneventfully. As soon as it came to a stop and the “fasten seatbelts” turned off, Royce was out of his seat, maneuvering for his duffel bag overhead. He pulled it from the compartment and tossed it on the seat. He lifted his backpack and threw it over his shoulders before hoisting the duffel and slinging it across his right shoulder. He could not decide whether his neck hurt or was simply tired. The line out of the plane moved quickly. The tired eyes and weary smile of the attendant greeted him as he exited the plane and scurried down the corridor to the gate.

When Royce hit the main terminal, he broke out into a mini-jog. His duffel bounced against his left hip. He got onto the moving walkway and slowed to a stand-still. He took his phone from his jeans pocket and turned it on. He speed-dialed Bing.

“Royce!” Bing said.

“Hey,” Royce replied.

“You in already?”

“Yeah. Just landed. On my way to baggage claim.”

“Should I leave now?”

“How long is it going to take to get here?”

“Twenty, twenty-five minutes?”

“Yeah, leave now.”

“I’ll call you when I get there.”

“Sounds good.”

“See you soon, bro.”

“Bing?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“No prob.”

Royce put his phone away and fought the urge to sprint off the moving walkway. He hopped off and walked to the escalator, then rode that down the street level. He saw the carousel assigned to his flight, but it hadn’t started to move yet. He found a row of chairs near the carousel and sat. He did not bother to take his backpack off. He pulled his phone from his pocket and called Chelsie.

“Hey!” Chelsie said.

“Hey, Chelsie,” Royce said.

“Isn’t it like almost 1 over there?”

“What? Yeah. It is.”

“You all moved in? How was it?”

“Uh… it was kind of crazy.”

“You meet your roommate yet?”

“No, no… I guess he’s not getting in tonight.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I don’t know. You sound funny. Like super-tired or something.”

“Ah, it’s been a long day.”

“I bet.”

“Hey, Chels.”

“Yeah?”

“How much longer are you going to be up?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

“Like another hour or so?”

“Probably.”

“I gave something to Bing to give to you. Can he drop it off in like half-an-hour?”

“Bing? I guess. What is it?”

“It’s… I can’t explain it. You have to see it.”

“Royce, it’s not going to make me cry all night, is it?”

“I don’t know. I hope not.”

“Okay. So is he going to call me?”

“I don’t want him to wake your parents up or anything. I’ll tell him to text you. When he does, meet him at the door.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Silence.

“I miss you, Royce.”

“I miss you, too.”

“We can talk tomorrow. I mean, whenever you’re free.”

“Okay. Good night, Chelsie.”

“Sweet dreams.”

Royce hung up the phone and slid it into his pocket. The other passengers from his flight were already huddled around the baggage carousel. Some of them had collected their luggage and were on their way. Royce stood up and walked over. He watched the same pieces of luggage make the rounds a few times before he saw his own bag emerge from the conveyor. He scooped it up and made his way to the exit. The air outside was warm. He stood his luggage up and checked his phone. No missed calls. 9:57. He took a deep breath and exhaled. Royce laughed. It was the first time all day that he had actually stopped moving.

He saw Bing’s dark blue Explorer before the call came. Bing saw him too. The phone stopped ringing. The SUV pulled up to the curb. Bing honked the horn several times. Royce smiled and shook his head. He moved towards the back of the Explorer. Bing popped out of the driver’s side and ran around to meet him.

“Holy shit! I can’t believe this is really happening!”

Bing opened the rear gate. He and Royce piled his things in. Royce slammed the gate shut.

“Thanks again, Bing.”

The two shook hands and hugged.

“Anytime, man.”

“Let’s go.”

They got into the Explorer. The hazard lights stopped blinking as it left the curb.

“So what’s the plan?” Bing asked.

“We’re going to Chelsie’s.” Royce said.

“Does she know you’re back?”

“No.”

“You just gonna call her when you get there?”

“No. I told her that you had something to drop off. You have to text her when we get there.”

“Then what?”

“I’ll already be at her door.”

“Smooth.”

“Well, I did have two flights to think about it.”

“Really?”

Royce laughed.

“Actually, I just made it up. I called her at baggage claim.”

“Nice.”

“It’s all I could think of.”

“I know I’ve been saying this, but this is crazy, Royce.”

“I know.”

“No, really. What’s going to happen when your parents find out?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about that yet.”

“What?”

“I mean they’re going to be pissed at me.”

“Well, we know that.”

“I don’t know.”

“What about BC?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I can show up a little later. Classes don’t start until next week.”

“You’re going back? Would your parents even let you?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about Chelsie and this stupid letter the whole time.”

Royce pulled the letter from his pocket.

“Who does that?” Bing asked.

“Chelsie, apparently.”

“What are you going to say to her?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re just gonna wing it?”

“I guess.”

“No offense Royce, but this shit seems stupid in the movies, but it’s straight ridiculous in real life.”

Bing pulled off the freeway. They were five minutes from Chelsie’s house.

“You can slow down, Bing.” Royce said.

“Oh. Yeah.” Bing said.

“Hey. Another huge favor?” Royce said.

“What’s up?” Bing asked.

“I might have to stay at your place tonight.”

“No prob. Let’s just hope my parents don’t catch us. I really don’t want to have to explain any of this any earlier than we need to.”

“So you can stick around then?”

Bing laughed.

“C’mon, man, you didn’t think I was going to sit there anyway? I told you. Epic either way.”

“Thanks. Pull up here.”

Bing parked the car a house down and across the street from Chelsie’s house.

“I can’t see the front door from here!” Bing said.

“Are you – fine – you can move up.” Royce said.

“There we go.”

“Jesus.”

“Now what?”

“Here’s her number.”

“What do I say?”

“I’m going to walk up to her door. Tell her you’re here when I get there.”

“See? I had to be able to see the front door!”

Royce scoffed.

“I guess.” Royce said.

“You ready?” Bing asked.

Royce got out of the Explorer without a word. The street was quiet. There were very few lights on in the houses lining the street. He took a deep breath and exhaled. He began walking to Chelsie’s house. His heart was racing. He thought it might explode. His hands shook as he reached the front door. He turned to face the Explorer. He nodded at it. Silence. Seconds passed. He turned again to face the Explorer, tried to make Bing out, but could not. He felt drained.

He heard footsteps on the other side of the door. The porch light turned on. His heart skipped. He heard the deadbolt shift. The door opened slowly. Chelsie’s eyes met Royce’s.

“Hey.” Royce said.

Chelsie took a step forward and dove into Royce. She wrapped her arms around him. The force nudged him back. He took a step back to keep his balance. He hugged her, too.

Chelsie took a small step back.

“Oh my God! What are you doing here?” she shouted.

“I just- I needed to see you,” Royce said.

“What?”

“I couldn’t-“

“Do your parents know?”

“No.”

“What? Are you serious? What about Boston College?” she shouted.

“It wasn’t meant to be, I guess.”

“What?”

“It wasn’t meant to be.”

Royce pulled Chelsie in and kissed her. Her body melted into his.

Chelsie pulled away.

“What are you going to-“she started.

“I don’t know,” he said.

The light in Chelsie’s parents’ bedroom came to life.

Post-Script: I originally wanted this to be something like a joke resembling the Nicholas Sparks-style stories. Halfway through writing it, I realized that it wasn’t going to work out that way because I had incorporated other characters (Nick and Maggie) from “Cake,” and didn’t want to throw that whole story under the proverbial bus. When I had told my friend Chris about my original intention, he replied “It doesn’t read like that.” He was right. That, in part, is what took me so long to finish the story. I didn’t want to finish it. It felt like some child that I had half-given birth to and didn’t like where it was going. I wanted to delete all the parts and pretend it never happened. But that’s one of my deepest flaws: an inability to finish things. So I finished it anyway. Thanks for reading.

“Long Distance” Part 9

Yeah, I know. I swear to you this will get finished. Here’s the first 8 parts. I swear that Royce will get there and not land on a moveable island and a smoke monster.

Part IX: The Last Leg

                Royce paced himself while walking to Gate 9. His lower back ached. Years of schooling had conditioned him to deal with the burden of toting around his bags, but he could not remember ever sitting in such discomfort for such an extended period of time. It dawned on him that this was the third airport of the day.  He felt like asking a passerby to take his picture. He had never been to Chicago before and doubted he’d ever be back.

When he reached the gate, a handful of people were already scattered in the seating area. Royce walked up to the information desk which was manned by a tired-looking older woman.

“How much longer until the plane boards?” he asked.

“We’ll be boarding first class passengers in 15 minutes,” she said.

“Any idea how long it’ll take to get into SD?”

“If there aren’t any delays, the flight should land in San Diego at around 10 o’clock local time.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Royce shuffled to a seat and slowly peeled off his duffel and backpack. When he called Bing after landing, he saw two text message notifications. He avoided checking them. Now that he had down time, he reached into his jeans pocket and fished his phone out. One text message was from his younger brother: “Mom n dad want 2 know how ur doing.” The other was from Chelsie: “How is everything so far?” He replied to Chelsie: “Good. Things are kind of crazy right now. Call you later?” I’m not lying. He slid his phone closed and rested it on his lap. He leaned over to his backpack, but before he could get it opened, his phone chirped. It was Chelsie. “K. Just call whenever.”

“In a few moments, we will start with the boarding our first class passengers on flight 63, to San Diego. Please have your ID and boarding pass out as you make your way to the plane.”

A few passengers formed a line before the large picture windows. Royce looked past them at the nose of the plane that would take him home. He sighed. What the hell am I doing?

“We will now be boarding passengers seated in rows thirty-five to twenty-five.”

Royce got up from his seat. He reached around and pulled his pass and ID from his back right jeans pocket. Chelsie’s letter came up with them. Royce did not notice. He got into line behind a young married couple. Both looked like they were in their late 20’s or early 30’s.

“So your parents have no idea we’re coming?” the woman asked.

“No, I only told my brother,” the man said.

Royce took a small step forward.

“Do they know anything?” the woman continued.

“They think Craig and Emily are taking them to dinner, but they don’t know we’re coming, and they don’t know Sara and Curtis are coming,” the man said.

“So they think it’s just a small dinner?”

“Well, they go to dinner at Sebastian’s every year for their anniversary.”

“They have no idea, then.”

“No. I don’t think so. Craig and Emily told them they’d take them out because it’s their 40^th.”

“When was the last time your parents saw your sister and Curtis?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe two Christmases ago.”

“We haven’t seen them since this past Christmas.”

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t can’t even say for sure when the last time Craig and Sara and I were home at the same time.”

“Are we just going to surprise them at the restaurant?”

“I don’t know. Craig is supposed to be the one coming up with all the details.”

“They’re going to be so happy to see everyone!”

“I know. Actually, I haven’t been this excited to go home since college, maybe.”

Royce scoffed.

The line moved quickly. When Royce got up to the check-in, he handed over his ID, the boarding pass, and Chelsie’s letter.

“I don’t need this,” the woman said.

She handed him back the letter.

“Oh, yeah, my bad,” Royce said.

Royce took the letter and quickly returned it to his pocket.

“Okay, Royce, enjoy the flight.”

Royce dragged himself down the corridor to the plane. He entered the cabin and found his seat near the back without trouble. The plane appeared half-empty. He opened the overhead compartment and threw his duffel bag into it. Last time. He took his backpack off and fell into his seat. He looked at his watch. Looks good. He stared at the back of the seat in front of him for a few seconds. He stood and took Chelsie’s letter out of his pocket and sat down again. The day-old letter had the feel of a paper towel. He unfolded it.

Babe,

I know you’re going to open this as soon as you sit down, but I guess that’s close enough. Anyways, I’m super excited for you. You’ve been talking about Boston College since your sophomore year and now it’s all happening.

I wrote you this letter because I wanted to tell you something that I didn’t have the guts to say to your face. I started thinking about it this summer during that week you went away with your family to Arizona. It sucked to be away from you even for just a few days and it made me really sad to think that that was pretty much how it was gonna be once you left for college.

You’re gonna be really mad, but promise me you’ll read everything and not just throw it away after this part. Ok… so when my sister Lana’s boyfriend left for college and she stayed home for school, she was miserable. She would have to stay up late to talk to him on the phone because of the time difference, she would check her e-mail like a million times a day, and she would keep playing the same stupid sad songs over and over. They tried to stay together and it lasted until he came home for Christmas break, but then after that, he didn’t talk to her as much because he was doing his own thing.

I know this is going to sound selfish, but I don’t want us to be like that. I don’t want to be like my sister. You’ve been talking about Boston College forever and you should have fun. College is supposed to be fun. It’s going to be my senior year of high school and I want to have fun, too. But neither of us will have fun if we’re trying to stay in touch and be together when we’re not actually together.

I think even if I could have told you all this in person, you would have talked me out of it because I love you. That’s why I had to write it to you. I love you and I want to be with you, but it’s going to be too hard. I know that sounds stupid or like I’m giving up, but I’ve seen my sister go through it and I don’t want to go through it.

Life is going to suck right now and for a long time, but we can see each other in December and see where to go from there. I’m really sorry, Royce. I do love you, you know. Call me when you get in.

 

Love you, babe.

C!

                For the first time since clicking the “purchase” button on his laptop, Royce thought about consequences.

                My parents are going to kill me. My mom is going to cry for two weeks straight. My dad will either scream at me or never talk to me again. I don’t even know what I’m going to say to them. They will ask why. I will tell them Chelsie. They will kill me. They will blame her. They will hate her. Forever. Chelsie. What do I say? How do I even talk to her? Do I just text her to tell her to go outside? Ring the doorbell and hope it’s her? Who’s going to answer the doorbell at 10 at night? Then her parents are going to be pissed at me. Then everyone is going to hate me. What if it doesn’t work out? What if she doesn’t want to stay together and I pretty much just pissed college away for nothing? I don’t think BC gives second chances. Maybe they do. Christians. Ah, shit.

                The plane took left the runway and began its journey to San Diego.

               

“Long Distance” Part 8

Part 8: Short Layover

The car crawled to a stop at the stoplight. He eagerly awaited the green arrow that would point him towards Chelsie’s house. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. A song played on the radio. He didn’t recognize it. He turned to his father seated in the passenger seat.

“Do you think she’ll be surprised to see me?” Royce asked.

“I would certainly think so,” his father answered.

“Where’s mom?”

“She had to take your brother to the pet store.”

The green arrow illuminated. Royce turned left.

“Can you talk to Chelsie’s dad so he won’t be mad?”

“No, Royce, I think I’ll stay in the car.”

Royce looked down the road. All the houses looked the same. The sun hung high in the sky and yet light raindrops hit the windshield. Royce kept driving. The houses looked the same. They looked unfamiliar. To him they were all the same color of off-white.

“I think I’m lost, dad.”

His father laughed. Royce reached into his pocket for his phone. He called Chelsie. She didn’t answer. The ringtone went on:

Who knows?

Not me.

We never lost control.

You’re face

To face

With the man who sold the world.

“That’s not Chelsie’s ringtone.”

His father said nothing.

The two rows of off-white houses on either side of the car continued to slowly fall away.

“Where are you going?” Royce’s father asked.

Royce did not answer. He was busy looking at identical houses not known to him.

 

“We’ll be landing shortly. Did you want anything else to drink?”

“What?” Royce said.

“We’ll be landing in Chicago in a few minutes,” the attendant said. She motioned to the cart.

“Oh, no thanks.”

The attendant continued down the aisle. Royce did not remember falling asleep. He looked down. He still held Chelsie’s letter.

“Holy shit.”

 

Royce walked out of the corridor and into the gate area. He unceremoniously dropped his duffel at the closest seat. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He waited while it powered up. He fell into the seat and looked at his watch. He still had a shot to get back home before 10:30. He called Bing,

“And?” Bing said.

“I just got into Chicago,” Royce said.

“No shit! You actually did it.”

“Well, halfway, at least.”

“It’s not like you’re gonna turn back now, kid.”

Royce laughed.

“No, I guess I’m not.”

“Yeah, you’re kind of all-in, buddy.”

“You still pick me up?”

“Yeah, man. What time we looking at?”

“Best case: probably about ten, ten-fifteen.”

“What are you thinking, closer to ten-thirty?”

“Yeah. About four hours.”

“Okay. Just give me a call when you get in.”

“Hey, Bing.”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“No prob. Thank you.”

“Why? What are you talking about?”

“Seriously, this is going to be unreal. Seriously, have you even thought about how it’s going to play out?”

Royce realized that he had not.

“No, I guess I’ve been so busy just trying to get here that I just-“

“Either way, this is going to be amazing.”

“Either way?”

“Yeah, either it’s going to be all Hollywood-happy ending  or it’s going to be the most awkward reunion ever. And I’ll be right there the whole time. This is going to be awesome. Epic!”

“That’s… that’s great. Thanks, again, Bing. I’ll call you.”

“No, no, no- you call me! Luck, bro.”

 

Royce hung up the phone and tossed it up. It crashed down on his chest and slid down to his stomach where he caught it with his hands. He turned his head to search the flight information. Gate 9. Royce stood and leaned over to pick up his duffel bag.

“Well…from here to there, then.”

“Long Distance” Part 7

Part 7: One-Eighty

Royce slid his phone closed and dropped it back into his jeans pocket. He sat at the edge of the bench with his elbows on his knees. His brushed the fingertips of his left hand against those of his right. His left foot tapped the tile beneath his shoe quickly.  He looked at his watch. 4:28.

The crowd around the baggage carousel had thinned. Royce saw his dark gray luggage move slowly on the conveyer through the space between two men still waiting for their own. He got up from his seat with a sigh, picked up his backpack and slung it over his shoulders. He walked towards the carousel at an angle so as to get in front of his luggage. He excused himself and slid between a woman and a man wearing a Celtics jersey. Royce ripped his luggage off the belt and placed it at his side. Gate 31.

He turned and started back towards the escalators. The backpack, duffel, and luggage were heavy. Royce felt like he was dragging his whole life with him. As soon as he reached the upper level, he looked for a layout of the gates. He found one next to the sundries store advertising 20-ounce softdrinks for $2.09. Royce looked for himself on the map. His eyes roamed over colored blocks, lines, and numbers until they stopped at a bright red X above the text “You are here.” He found an arrow pointing adjacent to the words “Gates 20-40.”

“Fuck, am I that far away?” he said.

He headed off in the direction of the arrow. 31, 31, 31. For the first 100 feet or so, he tried to quicken his pace, but found that he could not really walk in a straight line, so he slowed down. He again weaved around slower moving travelers on his way to Gate 31. C’mon… He could feel beads of sweat build on his forehead and on his upper lip, and used the arm of his sweater to wipe it away.  Who designed this place? This is bullshit. He passed the entrance to Gates 20-25 and the adrenaline kicked in. He picked up his pace.  Get there. Get there. Get there. He was 300 feet out when he saw the sign for Gates 30-35. Then he saw the check-in line.

For a second, Royce thought about just leaving his luggage near a trashcan. Then he sighed and got in line. He removed the duffel from his shoulders and slid the backpack off his right shoulder and flipped it around until it stopped at his chest. He opened a small pocket and took out his iPod. He took the boarding pass from the large pocket; he flipped the pack back and secured it on both shoulders. He unwound the earphone cord and placed the buds in his ears.

I said Love, I feel like I’m standing on top of the sun,

Even your temperature won’t make me run.

Being with you makes me feel

So alive, mesmerized, I realize

That it’s in your eyes.

Honey, this is not just a fantasy,

Let me keep on keeping it real:

Being with you makes me feel

So alive, mesmerized, I realize

That it’s in your eyes.

Hi oh, hey oh, this is how the story goes

I know, you know-that we don’t want to be alone

Hi oh, hey oh, this is how the story goes

I know, you know-that we don’t want to let it go.

People they say, “You will never find love.”

They say, “It’s a myth, all you want is that touch.”

But I disagree ‘cause I know how I feel:

So alive, mesmerized, I realize

That it’s her eyes.

Honey, I feel like I’m floating on that ecstasy,

Oh, give me something more so I can feel it:

So alive, it’s in your eyes, mesmerized,

I’m gonna blow your mind.

Hi oh, hey oh, this is how the story goes

I know, you know-that we don’t want to be alone

Hi oh, hey oh, this is how the story goes

I know, you know-that we can never let it go.

I feel so high

Oh, my baby, she makes me want to touch the sky.

You never know unless you try.

Hi oh, hey oh, this is how the story goes

I know, you know-that we don’t want to be alone

Hi oh, hey oh, this is how the story goes

I know, you know-that we don’t want to let it go.

Realize that it’s in your eyes

Realize that it’s in your eyes

Gonna blow your mind

Gonna blow your mind

…

I must have been a fool to love you so hard for so long,

So much stronger than before, but so much harder to move on.

But now the bitter chill of winter still blows through my like a plague.

Only wake up with an empty bed on a perfect summer day.

My world just feels so cold.

And you find yourself walking down the wrong side of the road.

I can’t lie, you’re on my mind, stuck inside my head.

I wanna feel your heart beat for me instead.

I just die so much inside now that you’re not there.

I wanna feel your heart beat like yesterday.

I never did my best to express how I really felt.

And now that I know exactly what I want, you’ve found somebody else.

My world just feels so cold.

And you find yourself walking down the wrong side of the road.

I can’t lie, you’re on my mind, stuck inside my head.

I wanna feel your heart beat for me instead.

I just die so much inside now that you’re not there.

I wanna feel your heart beat like yesterday.

My world just feels so cold.

I find myself thinking about the things I could have done.

And it warms my soul when you let me know that I’m not the only one.

I can’t lie, you’re on my mind, stuck inside my head.

I wanna feel your heart beat for me instead.

I just die so much inside now that you’re not there.

I wanna feel your heart beat like yesterday.

…

“ID?”

Royce took his earphones out.

“Yeah.” Royce reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.

“Ticket confirmation?”

“Yup.”

“Okay, Royce. San Diego via Chicago?”

“Yeah.”

“How many checked bags?”

“Just the one.”

“Did you pack it yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Has it been on your person this entire time?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, Royce, here is your boarding pass. Thank you for flying with us.”

Royce made his way to the gate. He found himself at the end of another line. At the other end, security guards stood waving wands around people standing in socks. He had built up a nice sheen of sweat on his face now and the sweater wasn’t working out. He pulled Chelsie’s letter from the pocket and slid it into the right back pocket of his jeans. He took off his duffel and backpack and pulled the sweater off over his head. He shoved it into the duffel.  He undid his belt and whipped it out of the loops of his jeans. He shoved that into the duffel too. The line moved slightly as adjusted his clothing, so he nudged his luggage forward and kicked his pack and duffel ahead as well. He took a knee to undo the laces of his shoes. He pulled his wallet from his pocket, removed his ID, and placed it in his mouth. He shoved his wallet into his backpack. The cell phone followed. He took the boarding pass from the pack and filed it next to his ID. He zipped up his bags and put all of them back on. He grabbed the raised handle of his luggage with his right hand, removed the ID and pass from his lips with his left hand, and scooted forward a few feet. That’s got to be some kind of record.

Royce passed through the security check and headed for Gate 31. The flight was already boarding when he got there.  Royce jogged to the end of the short line. His bags bounced violently with each step he took.

“Boarding pass?”

“Right here.”

“Okay. Most of the passengers in your section have already been seated. If you can’t find room for that bag, please alert one of the attendants.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Thank you for flying with us.”

“Yeah.”

Royce walked quickly through the corridor and was assaulted by the noise of jet engines.

“27 E… right down this aisle.”

“Thanks.”

“Thank you for flying with us!”

The cabin of the plane was empty. At least it felt like it. Royce could clearly see a few empty seats in the first section. He shuffled his way to 27 E and opened the overhead compartment. Plenty room. He stuffed his duffel bag in and clicked the compartment shut. The seat next to his was unoccupied. He sank into the chair and exhaled. He tilted his head back, shut his eyes, and let his mouth hang open.

“Ladies and gentlemen, in a few moments we will be making our way to the runway for take off. At this time, please stow away all bags, turn of all cell phones and other electrical devices. Fasten your seatbelts.

Royce snapped his seatbelt into place and loosened it a little. He shifted his weight onto his left side and reached into the back right pocket of his jeans. He pulled Chelsie’s letter. The paper was worn already. …we can see each other in December and see where to go from there.

“Long Distance” Part 6

Part 6: The (Golden) Eagle Has Landed

The line to exit the plane moved more quickly than the one entering it. Royce had already removed his duffel bag from the overhead compartment. He stood behind the blonde woman. She turned to face him.

“Try to get some studying in there,” she said.

“Huh?” he replied.

She pointed to the Golden Eagle on his sweater.

“Have fun.”

“Oh, yeah. Thanks.” He smirked.

The blonde woman turned and started to shuffle through the aisle through towards the exit. Royce followed. He reached the door and the attendant nodded at him and smiled. He nodded back and continued through the hallway through the gate. He dropped his duffel bag at the second row of seats and sat down. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He turned it on. It was 4:02 pm in Boston.

He gazed through the window at the gate. He saw men in bright orange vests unload the baggage from the plane. A few hundred yards beyond that, he saw planes taxiing towards runways. He watched the wheels of one of them leave the earth.

Royce stood. He looked around the terminal. He picked up his duffel bag and walked towards the wide main corridor. His eyes ran over the board listing the remaining flights for the night. 6:05. Boston to San Diego via Chicago.

He walked to a seat and opened his backpack. He took his laptop out and booted it up. Hurry up. He opened up Firefox and headed to orbitz.com. He looked at his watch. He found the 6:05 flight. He leaned back and stared at the ceiling, trying to do the math in his head.

6:05. One-hour layover. 6 hours total travel time, give or take. I’d be back home between 9 and 10.

Royce looked back to the computer screen.

$685.

Royce moved the cursor over the “Purchase” tab. He took his hand off the mouse. Between his savings and graduation gifts, he could cover it. He sighed and reached into jeans for his wallet. He took out his credit card and punched the info into the computer. In a few minutes, he would need to head over to a kiosk to have his tickets printed out. He sighed and pulled out his cell phone.

He pressed 7 on his speed dial.

“Royce! You in already?”

“Yeah, just got in.”

“How’s was the flight in?”

“Shitty Miley Cyrus movie.”

“Nice.”

“Hey Bing, can you do me a huge favor?”

“What’s up, man?”

“Can you pick me up at the airport tonight?”

“What?”

“I’m coming home.”

“What? When?”

“I’m leaving in an hour-and-a-half.”

“Are you serious? Did you talk to Chelsie?”

“Yeah, I just bought the ticket. But no, didn’t talk to her yet, though. Don’t think I’m going to.”

“You’re just going to fly back home?”

“Yeah.”

“What about all your shit?”

“I only have a backpack and a duffel on me. I got one checked bag. I’m going to get it right after I talk to you.”

“That’s it?”

“My parents were going to mail the rest of my stuff later this week. “

“Holy shit, that’s fucking crazy-did you talk to them?”

“No.”

“What? Your dad will literally kill you. Then he’ll kill me for helping you!”

“So can you pick me up? I don’t have much time.”

“Yeah. Yeah. What time?”

“I have to fly into the Chicago first, but I should be back home at about 9:30-10:00.”

“Dude.”

“I know.”

“This is some real chick flick stuff, Royce.”

Royce laughed.

“No shit, huh?”

“Just call me when you land in Chicago.”

“Thanks, Bing.”

“No prob. Holy crap, this is going to be epic.”

“Call you when I hit Chicago.”

 

Royce walked briskly down the main corridor towards the escalators. He weaved through the mass of travelers who were probably looking for the closest Starbucks. He reached the escalator and exhaled. He glanced at his watch as a formality. It’s going to be close.

By the time Royce reached the baggage carousel, it was surrounded by the other passengers who had been on his flight. He saw the blonde woman politely nudge her way into the front row a few feet away from the baggage drop. Royce decided to wait it out for a bit. He spotted a bench posted against a wall near the carousel. An older man with a laptop bag was seated there, but he slide over to one end when he saw Royce approaching. Royce dropped his duffel bag at his side, slid his backpack off his shoulders and slung it around in front of him before gently placing it on the floor in front of him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Finally, he sat. He made eye contact with the older man and nodded his thanks. The man nodded back.

He slid open his phone to reveal the QWERTY keyboard. His thumbs hammered out a simple message. “Just landed.” He sent it off to Chelsie. Then he called his home.

“Hey, sweetheart!” his mother said. “How was your flight?”

“Okay,” Royce said.

“You just get in?”

“Yeah. I’m waiting in the baggage claim.”

“Does it look like there will be a lot of students on the shuttle?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t really looked at all.”

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“You don’t sound very excited.”

“I’m just tired, moms.”

“You didn’t sleep during the flight?”

“No, not really. I guess I was too excited.”

Royce’s phone beeped. He took it from his ear and looked at the display. A text message from Chelsie.

“Mom, I gotta go. I see my bag.”

“Okay. I’ll tell your father you made it in alright.”

“Thanks.”

“Call us when you get to campus.”

“Okay.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Royce hung up and checked Chelsie’s message. How was the flight? Call me when you can. Royce looked up from his phone towards the carousel. It was still crowded. He sighed. Then he called Chelsie.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” he said.

“How was your flight?”

“A Miley Cyrus movie, and I couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Silence.

“Did you read the letter?”

“Of course I did.”

“I’m sorry, Royce.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“I mean it.”

Royce could hear Chelsie’s voice starting to break. He could also feel a stinging near the bridge of his nose.

“I just don’t think we can make it. It would be terrible.”

Chelsie was crying.

“Hey, we don’t have to talk about all that right now. I’m just happy to hear your voice instead of having to read your bubble handwriting over and over.”

Chelsie laughed.

“I miss you.” She sniffled.

“I miss you, too.”

“Thanks,” she said.

“What for?”

“For not being super-angry and making this an epic disaster.”

“Well, I’m not thrilled, but there’s no point in getting into it right now.”

“You don’t have to believe me, but I love you, Royce.”

He sighed to counter the building wetness in his eyes.

“I love you, too. I’ll call you when I get to campus.”

“Okay.”

“Bye, Chels.”

“Bye.”

Royce could not remember the last time he had called Chelsie by her first name.

“Long Distance” Part 5

Parts 1-4 here.

Part 5: Destiny

Royce looked down at Chelsie’s letter. The planets and the moon and the stars… Royce thought it was funny that the blonde woman had used those words to describe movie romances because that was how he had always thought about his relationship with Chelsie.

 

When Royce and Chelsie had made a year together during the first quarter of his junior year, they went to dinner at Red Lobster. Chelsie was a self-professed “seafood addict” and Royce had saved up enough to be able to tell her that she could “order whatever she wanted.” Chelsie did not bother to ask him if he was sure. She ordered the shrimp and lobster combo and Royce went with the steak and crab legs. Once their order was in, there was nothing left to do but wait.

“I can’t believe it’s been a year already,” Chelsie said. She took a sip of her Diet Coke.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Royce said.

“You know, the funny thing is-I didn’t even want to take that stupid study hall.”

“Why not? It’s a free period.”

“I was trying to get into a statistics class, but it was full of seniors who needed the credit to graduate, so I got dumped in there. With you.”

Royce laughed. “Jesus, you make it sound like a bad thing.”

“Obviously it was a good thing.”

“To tell you the truth, I wasn’t even supposed to be in that study hall, either.”

“What?”

“Yeah, the first schedule they sent me had a mistake in it. They had me in a trig class that I would have bombed.”

“God, you are horrible with numbers.”

“I know. So when they tried to change me out to geometry, the only opening was during 5^th period and the only things I could take during third were Computer Tech, Intro to Engineering, and Kramer’s Mythology class. And the study hall.”

“Path of least resistance?”

“I prefer to think of it as smart scheduling.”

“So basically we’re together because you suck at math and I’m awesome at it.”

“Yeah, but we also owe all of this to a bunch of seniors who also sucked at math so badly that they had to take a math elective to graduate. That sounds like fate.”

Chelsie laughed.

“That’s so stupid,” she said.

“What are you talking about? If I had any kind of skill whatsoever, you and I never end up in that study hall together. Remember, we had Mr. Ritchie, too. He let us talk. If we had Tenney or Watson, we would have had to sit in silence every single day.”

“You make a pretty good argument. I’m curious. Go on.”

“Then remember the first dance we went to?”

“Oh God.” Chelsie covered her face with both hands.

“Imagine if I was the kind of guy who was superficial and didn’t give you a chance because your wore a shirt with pelicans on it to a school dance.”

“They were seagulls!”

“They were ugly.”

“You will never let me forget that, will you?”

“Never.”

“I was a freshman!”

“It’s a good thing you were a cute freshman, it barely made up for your hideous outfit.”

“So you’re saying that that stupid shirt was almost make-or-break for you?”

“No, only that you’re lucky I’m the kind of guy who is mature enough to look past obvious fashion disasters.”

Chelsie got up from her chair and stood before Royce.

“And now?”

Chelsie was wearing a lavender dress with silver trim. She did a little turn.

“You’ve come a long way, baby.” Royce said dryly.

“Thank you.”

“But it’s still purple.”

“Well, deal with it. It’s always going to be my color.”

“You look great.”

“So okay. Scheduling, Mr. Ritchie, stupid seniors, and your anti-superficialism.”

“Is that even a word?”

“What else?”

Chelsie returned to her seat and leaned her elbows on the table. She cupped her chin with the palms of her hand. “You still haven’t convinced me that we’re the modern version of Romeo and Juliet-without all the star-crossing and without all the dying.”

“What about the first time I kissed you?”

“We kissed and you ran because you had to get to practice! It was the opposite of romance!”

“No-not then. At the dance.”

Chelsie’s eyes narrowed. She searched his face for two seconds before her eyes widened. She started laughing and could not stop.

“That’s right.”

“Are you serious?”

“Think about it.”

Chelsie was still laughing.

“I’m serious.”

“Okay, okay. Go.”

“We were hanging out the whole night-and I’ll admit, I was too nervous to really try anything-then I went to get us drinks.”

“You were nervous?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because if I made a move or something or said something stupid, and you thought I was an idiot or you weren’t into me, I’d have to face you every single day in study hall.”

Chelsie started laughing again.

“Anyway, I went to get drinks.”

“And when you got back, that weird guy-Wallace Eaton or something-was trying to talk to me.”

“Right. Remember when I was walking back and we made eye contact over his shoulder. Your face was priceless. “

“And then you swooped in. Royce to the rescue.”

“Yeah, I handed you your drink and gave you that small kiss on the cheek.”

“You’re counting that as our first kiss?”

“For the purposes of this argument.”

“Okay.”

“Then what happened?”

“He just turned and walked away!”

“Yes. But more importantly, his very presence gave me the excuse to actually try something with you. I could always just say that I was trying to get him away from you.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I already told you-I was super nervous. I don’t think I would have tried anything otherwise.”

“So you wouldn’t have kissed me on your own?”

“Not then, I don’t think.”

“But eventually?”

“Yeah, but that little kiss was huge. It like broke down that weird tension or something. Did you think I was going to make a move that night?”

“No. But I was hoping you would.”

“Really?”

“I mean, I guess. You did ask me to the dance with you.”

“Yeah, but I tried to make it as casual as possible.”

Chelsie laughed.

“Cool, let me know,” she said mockingly.

“Whatever! You ate it up!” Royce passionately pointed his finger at her.

“Oh, I did, I did!” She tilted her head back and laughed.

“That’s right,” Royce said. He nodded his head.

“Don’t pat yourself on the back too hard.”

“But yeah, the Wallace guy gave me an in. If he didn’t start talking to you, I really don’t think I would have made a move.”

“So that’s your final argument?”

“You can’t look at each of these elements one-by-one, you have to look at the big picture. Look at all of these completely unrelated events that had to happen for us to be together. It’s like the Big Bang. The odds must have been a bazillion-to-one.”

“You might be right.” Chelsie leaned across the table and kissed Royce.

“Chels,”

“Yeah?”

“I was too excited after I kissed you.”

“Just now?”

“No, back then.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was too happy or whatever to ask you.”

“Ask me what?”

“I never did ask you what that Wallace guy said to you.”

“I don’t remember.”

“C’mon.”

“No.”

“Babe. We’re having an open, honest conversation here. I’ve brought you to seafood heaven.” Royce raised both arms.

“Was he hitting on you?”

“Kind of, not really.”

“What did he say?”

“I can’t.”

“Really?”

“Arrrrgh! Fine.”

“I can’t believe I never thought to ask this before. What did he say?”

“It was mostly just small talk.”

“So how did he kind of hit on you.”

Chelsie closed her eyes and shook her head. She was smiling.

“He said he liked my shirt.”

Royce’s mouth became a black hole. He said nothing. He began to laugh so hard that eventually tears formed in his eyes.

“No way!”

“Yes. He said ‘I really like your sweater.’”

“That’s terrible!”

Chelsie smiled.

“You’re right,” she said.

Royce was still laughing.

“What about?” he said.

Chelsie smiled. “Everything. I love you.”

 

The captain’s voice came over the speakers. “Ladies and gentlemen we’ll be making our descent, please return to your seats. And fasten your seatbelts.”

“Long Distance” Part 4

Sorry this took so long. Insert airline delay joke here. Parts 1-3 of “Long Distance” here.

Part 4: The Non-confrontational Type

Royce didn’t remember falling asleep, but he was shaken from his slumber by the shaking of the plane and an attendant’s voice over the PA.

“The captain has turned on the ‘fasten seatbelts sign,’ please return to your seats and do so.”

A few seconds later it was the voice of the captain himself, “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re experiencing a little turbulence, please fasten your seatbelts. We’ll be out of this in a short while.”

“This shit is going to last forever,” Royce said.

“Huh?” the blonde woman said.

“Nothing.”

Royce wiped the sleep from the corners of his eyes and checked his watch. There was a little more than an hour left before the plane was scheduled to touch down. He was surprised to find that his right hand still held Chelsie’s letter, folded in half. He thought about what she said about “giving up” and how she hadn’t given him a chance to talk about it. It made sense, though. Chelsie avoided confrontation like a biblical plague. Even if I could have told you all of this in person, you would have talked me out of it…

Their first “fight” as a couple was typical. Royce and Chelsie had been going out for three weeks. He had gone over to Nick Tourin’s house after a Friday night football game with a handful of other teammates. Grayson had defeated a very good Mortenson High team and some of the players spontaneously decided to have a post-game celebration. He didn’t call Chelsie. He didn’t think he needed to.

After half-an-hour of rehashing the game at Nick’s house, Royce checked his phone. Two missed calls and 6 text messages. No voicemails. The texts started with “Good job ” continued on to “When U gonna b home?” and ended with “Where R U?”

He walked out the front door and leaned against a pillar on the porch. He called Chelsie.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Where are you?” she said.

“Nick Tourin’s house.”

“What are you doing?”

“A bunch of guys just wanted to hang out and go over the win.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I’ve been calling and texting you since the game ended.”

“I know, just got them all.”

Silence.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I just wished you called me,” she said.

“We didn’t have plans or anything.”

“Yeah, but still.”

“Like you want me to check in or something?”

“No, I just-“

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s fine.”

“You want me to leave now?”

“No- can we just drop it?”

“Fine. I’ll call you when I get home.”

When the players broke up an hour later, Royce caught a ride home with Marat Childress, a senior. He dropped his bag at the front door and walked past the living room. His mother was awake.  She had heard the door open and turned on her seat on the couch and spoke before he could make it to the stairs.

“Where were you?” she asked.

“You too?” he said.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing. I was at Nick’s house. Some of the guys just wanted to go over the game.”

“I heard about that. Big win, huh?”

“Yeah, Mortenson’s pretty good.”

“Well, all-star, that doesn’t mean you can just up and do whatever you want. It would be nice to know what you’re up to, what time you’ll be back.”

“Okay. Sorry, moms.”

“Your father just got home an hour ago, but he’s probably asleep. He’ll want to hear about the big win in the morning.”

“Okay.”

Royce walked up the stairs and opened the door to his room. He took off his jacket and hung it on the chair at his computer desk. He stood next to his bed, put his hands above his head and fell-like a torn-down statue-into his bed face-first. He rolled over onto his back and fished his phone out of his jeans pocket. He took a deep breath and called Chelsie.

“Hey,” he said when she answered.

“Hey,” she said back.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you.”

“Don’t worry, just forget it.”

“No, really, I-“

“Really, it’s okay, Royce, let’s just drop the whole thing.”

“Well, I was going to say that I just had pretty much the same conversation with my mom. I didn’t tell her I was going to Nick’s, either.”

“What did she say?”

“Basically that she would like to know where I am and what I’m up to.”

“You get in trouble?”

“No, but I guess I get it.”

“Get what?”

“That you just care and that’s all it means.”

“Ahh, it’s okay.”

“I’ll be better about it, okay?”

“Okay. Let’s just talk about something else.”

“You watch the whole game?”

“No, I got there a little after halftime. Math club.”

“How was that?”

“Not as exciting as the game.”

“Really?”

Chelsie laughed.

“I know less about football than you do about pre-cal, Royce.”

“What are you talking about? The violin holes! Uhh… Eff-of-ecks!”

“What does that mean?”

“Find out whatever is the Eff-of-ecks.”

Chelsie laughed.

“Okay,” she said. She was still laughing. “I was wrong.”

“That’s what Eff-of-ecks is?”

“No. I know more about football than you do about math.”

Nick laughed.

“How the fuck are you in a senior math class, anyway?” he asked.

There was a pause.

“Royce, don’t talk to me like I’m one of the guys.”

“Sorry. I ego was wounded.”

“It’s okay.”

Emptiness on both ends of the phone.

“Well, I’m beat. Call you tomorrow?”

“Sure. No practice tomorrow?”

“9 in AM.”

“Even after that win?”

“Greatness doesn’t take days off.”

“What about Sundays?”

“God said ‘let there be rest’.”

“What does your coach think?”

“We’re lucky he believes in God.”

“Call me after practice.”

“Sweet dreams, babe.”

There was a giggle on the Chelsie’s end.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said.

“Night.”

“Night, babe.”

She giggled again.

Royce waited for her to hang up.

Royce couldn’t hear what was happening, but Miley Cyrus and her movie boyfriend were smiling and hugging. A happy ending. Fantastic. The blonde woman turned towards Royce and smirked. She tugged at her headphones and popped out the bud in her right ear.

“When are they going to make a movie about a real love story?” she said.

“That bad?” he replied. He smiled faintly.

“No, life just never works out like that, that’s all.”

“Stars aligning and all that?”

“And the planets and the moons.”

“Long Distance” Part 3

Part 3: Not Like the Movies

The flight attendant stopped at Royce’s row and offered he and the blonde woman headsets. The woman took a set and Royce shook his head.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, um-“

“It’s a really good movie.”

“No thanks.”

The attendant continued down the aisle. The blonde woman turned towards Royce.

“Not a Miley Cyrus fan?”

Royce smirked.

“Not in the mood.”

The woman nodded and turned away. She put her headset on. Royce returned to the letter. …since your sophomore year…

Royce met Chelsie on the first day of school during Royce’s sophomore year. Chelsie was a year younger, but ended both up in study hall together. Royce, however, did not talk to Chelsie until the third week of school because he was doing what he called “recon.” He immediately thought Chelsie was hot, but told his friends he thought she was “alright.” He began asking around about her, but no one seemed to know much about her other than she was a freshman and she was smart. Three weeks of scouting, and this was the report.

Luckily for Royce, the study hall was overseen by Mr. Ritchie, one of the laxest teachers in the school. He didn’t really care what anyone did as long as it wasn’t illegal and it didn’t bother him. On the Tuesday of the third week of school, Royce sat to the immediate right of Chelsie’s. He leaned across the aisle between them.

“Hey, I’m Royce.”

Chelsie looked up from her copy of West Side Story. “Um, Chelsie.”

“Is that for Boddicker’s class?”

“Yeah.”

“God, I hated his English class.”

“Why? It’s okay so far.”

“All he ever talked about was “the genius of Shakespeare” or “literary devices.”

“Ha ha. Yeah, he’s already spent a day going over Shakespeare’s gloriousness.”

“You like Grayson so far?” Royce scooted his desk a few inches closer to Chelsie’s.

“It’s okay, I don’t know too many people.”

“Well, now you know me.” Royce extended his hand.

Chelsie blushed and shook his hand.

“Anyway, I’ll let you get back to your book. Just remember, when in doubt, just write ‘tragic hero’ instead of leaving it blank.”

“Thanks.”

Royce pulled his desk back into his own row.

 

The next day, Royce sat in the same seat to Chelsie. As soon as he fell into the desk, she turned to face him.

“Hey, you were right.” She waved her copy of West Side Story at him.

“What about?” Royce turned.

“Mr. Boddicker’s quiz. I think ‘tragic hero’ was the answer to like 3 of the questions.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s one of those things I wish someone had told me last year.”

“Thanks.”

“No Prob.”

Royce scooted his chair over towards Chelsie again. Chelsie put her book down.

“Chelsie, are you going to the Welcome Back Dance?”

She blushed and leaned in towards Royce.

“That’s on Friday, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know. Why?” She tried to fight her smile. She lost the battle.

“I was thinking if you were going to go, we could meet up there. Hang out and stuff. You know, since you said you don’t know too many people. I thought that at least you’d know at least someone there.” He shrugged.

Chelsie’s face reddened.

“Oh, uh, I, uh, I have to see if I can go.

“Cool, let me know.”

Royce and Chelsie talked for the rest of the period. She didn’t touch her book again until the bell rang.

 

“A drink, sir?”

“Huh?”

The flight attendant pointed to the various drinks on the cart before her.

“A drink?”

“Oh. Um. Coke?”

“Pepsi okay?”

I’ll just take some water, then.”

The attendant passed him a tiny bottle of water. It wasn’t very cold.

The blonde woman took off her headset.

“I’ll take a water, too.”

The attendant handed her a bottle and continued down the aisle.

Royce turned to the woman.

“How’s the movie so far?”

“It’s not terrible.”

“Really?”

“Actually, it’s pretty bad, but I keep falling for these Nicholas Sparks movies.”

“It’s a sequel or something?”

“No, Nicholas Sparks writes all these romantic novels that get turned into movies. Like The Notebook and A Walk to Remember.

“This guy wrote A Walk to Remember?”

“Yeah. You like that movie?”

“I guess. When I was a kid.”

The blonde woman laughed.

“A kid? How old are you?”

“Eighteen.”

“Well, believe me, love isn’t as easy as Nicholas Sparks makes it seem.”

Royce laughed and nodded. The blonde put her headphones back on. He took a sip of his water, recapped it, and shoved it in the pocket on the back of the seat in front of him. You’ve been talking about Boston College forever…

It was true. It was one of the first things Royce told Chelsie about himself. Both of Royce’s parents graduated from Boston College. They were only a year apart, Royce’s father being the older of the two. Ironically, they did not meet until six years after his mother graduated. Both were working as pharmacists in a downtown Boston drug store when they discovered they had both been at Boston College at the same time. The way Royce’s father told it, it took about ten minutes for the two of them to start dating. His mom, though, explained his father’s technique as “a process of gradually wearing down” her hesitation. He did not always agree with his mother, but in his heart he also knew his mother never lied to him.

Despite their move to California when Royce was six, both parents still followed Boston College closely. His father was fanatical during football season. Royce often felt that if his father had it to do all over again, he would have named Royce “Matt Ryan Daniels.” Royce grew up surrounded by pictures of his parents on the BC campus, accents of maroon and gold, and pennants featuring Golden Eagles in his father’s study. Royce had been given articles of clothing emblazoned with various Boston College logos and crests for birthdays and Christmas as far back as he could remember.

Oddly enough, this kind of blanket promotion of the school did not create an aversion in Royce. He found it somewhat mystifying that a place could have such a hold on two people so many years later. When Royce was in grade school, he often imagined Boston College as a cross between his own elementary school, Disney Land, and Hogwarts.

All of a sudden, Boston College no longer seemed so magical. In that moment, Royce no longer cared for Boston College. His thoughts were two-and-a-half years away in the other direction. He saw himself in the third person. He was wearing jeans and a plaid button-down shirt over a t-shirt. He was standing next to a girl in dark jeans and a long-sleeve purple t-shirt with silhouettes of seagulls above an ocean of squiggly lines; their backs intermittently grazing the gym wall behind them.

Royce saw the Royce of two-and-a-half years ago lean into to whisper something into the girl’s ear. He saw the girl turn to him and shake her head. He saw himself lean in once more and repeat. He saw the girl laugh. He saw himself smile.

 

He brushed the sleeve of his hooded sweater across both eyes.

 

 

 

“Long Distance” Part 2

Part 2: Getting Off the Ground

The captain’s voice came over the speakers, “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ll be taking off in a few minutes, we’re waiting for one more flight to clear the runway and we’ll be off. Thank you for your patience.”

Royce reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out his phone. For a split second he thought about calling Chelsie. He didn’t. He called his friend Bing instead.

“Royce?”

“Yeah.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in the air by now?”

“Yeah, delayed.”

“Some things you can always count on. What’s up?”

“Chelsie broke up with me.”

“When?”

“Now.”

“At the airport?”

“In a letter.”

“What the fuck?”

“No, I know.”

“That sucks.”

“I know. I just had to tell somebody.”

“You try calling her?”

“Nah, I think I’d end up saying some pretty horrible stuff right now.”

“Yeah, I would. What did she say?”

“Mostly that she didn’t want to deal with a long-distance relationship. Some bullshit about how college is supposed to be fun.”

“It is, though, right?”

“Yeah, well, this isn’t exactly a great start.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. I’m stuck in a plane for the next 4 hours.”

“Is it a clean break?”

“No. She said to call her when I get in.”

“Are you?”

“Don’t know.”

“That’s fucked, man.”

“Yeah. But anyway, I think we’re gonna start moving soon. I gotta go.”

“Just try to sleep. You’re gonna drive yourself fucking crazy if you think about it for the next 4 hours.”

“I’m too pissed off to sleep.”

“Man…”

“Take it easy, Bing. I’ll call you when I get in.”

“For sure. Safe flight.”

“Thanks.”

Royce hung up and turned his phone off. The engines of the plane began to hum more loudly. The plane began its race down the runway. Royce looked out the window at the world flashing by. Then the ground sank away from the plane and everything grew smaller until they became amorphous blotches of color.

He still held the letter in his left hand. His index finger tapped the back of the last page. He stared at the back of the seat in front of him, debating. He turned his head to the left. The blonde woman next to him was reading. He turned his head to the right and stared into the blue sky, debating. He unfolded the letter and started rereading it. Arizona…

Royce’s family packed up their Tahoe and drove down to Arizona a week after he graduated. Royce’s mother began calling the trip the “Last Great Daniels Family Road Trip” a month before they left. Royce had asked if Chelsie could go along, but his mother guilt-tripped him by repeating that it “The Last Great Daniels Family Road Trip” and he’d have plenty of time to spend with Chelsie when they returned.

Chelsie and Royce texted each other frequently during the drive down to Arizona. Royce tried to call her half-an-hour into the drive, but his mother turned her head from the front passenger seat and narrowed her eyes. Royce politely-but quickly-hung up the phone. Royce’s thoughts drifted to the third day of the trip when he tried to text Chelsie several times without receiving a response. When the family stopped at a drive-in off the freeway, he called her and got her voicemail.

As Royce sat in the cabin of the plane, he remembered that when he finally did get in touch with her later that night, something about her seemed off.

“Hey, you. I’ve been trying to get to you all day.”

“Yeah, sorry. I couldn’t get back to you then.”

“It’s okay. What have you been up to?”

“Not much, went to lunch with Maggie, that’s about it.”

“Is everything alright?”

“No-yeah-everything is fine.”

“I was getting worried about you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m just glad nothing happened or anything.”

“No, nothing like that.”

…

“I miss you.”

“I miss you, too, babe.”

“We made it into our hotel. It’s kind of run-down. My mom’s already complaining about the shower.”

“She would.”

“I wish you were here.”

“I know.”

“I already got my mom to agree to bringing you along wherever we go next summer.”

“Next summer?”

“Yeah. I’m sure we’ll go some place. Even if it isn’t out of state or anything.”

“Oh. That’s cool, I guess.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Next summer is a long ways off, is all.”

“Oh. I didn’t think of it that way. I was just excited you’d get to come along on the next one.”

“I know. It’s just- hey, can I call you tomorrow?”

“You alright?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I’m just tired right now. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay.”

“Okay. Whenever is okay because I think we’re getting up early for breakfast.”

“Okay.”

“I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

A woman’s voice came over the speakers of the plane, “In five minutes, we will begin handing out headphones for the in-flight movie.” The voice pulled Royce back from his thoughts of Arizona. The attendants voice continued, “I hope there are Miley Cyrus fans on-board. Our movie today is The Last Song.”

Royce tilted his head back and slowly shut his eyes. C’mon…

“Long Distance” Part 1

Part 1: Leaving

Royce carried his duffel bag over his head as he walked sideways down the aisle. He came to a stop behind a large man wearing a suit who was trying unsuccessfully to shove his own carry-on into the overhead compartment above his seat. Royce looked at the man’s reddening face and smirked.  Royce looked at the aisle behind him and saw a traffic jam of passengers standing, all of them staring at the heavy-set man, all wearing the same expression of disdain.  Finally, the man lodged his bag into the compartment and sat down. He made eye contact with Royce and nodded.

Royce shuttled past four more rows of seats until he found his own. He opened the compartment above his seat and was pleased to find it was empty. He tossed his duffel bag in and shut the door. He pulled his iPod from his jeans pocket. He unraveled the headphones and placed the buds in his ears. He sat in the window seat and flipped through his song list that featured seven-hundred fifty-seven titles. He settled on “Nice to Know You” by Incubus.

The attendant’s voice came over the speakers. Royce could barely hear it over the screams of Brandon Boyd. Her directions did not matter to him. He reached into the pocket of his hooded sweater and pulled out an envelope that read, “Do not open until you’re in the air.” These instructions were written in purple ink in Chelsie’s handwriting. The flourish on the “Y” and the bubble-round letters were her trademark. He thought back to their kiss goodbye. She had rode to the airport with his family.

They didn’t say much to each other during the 45-minute drive, but held hands tightly. She gave him the envelope while he stood on the curb with his baggage. She told him not to open it until the plane took off and to call her when he landed. Royce’s father shook his hand, his mother hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. Royce’s younger brother Darryl hugged him, too. Chelsie was the last to say goodbye, hugged kissed him on the lips and let the kiss linger. Royce held her tightly in his arms and did not want to let go.

The plane jerked from a standstill and brought Royce out of his daydream. The plane began taxiing towards the runway. Close enough, he thought. He pried open the envelope and unfolded the papers within. Damn, could she be wordy.

Babe,

I know you’re going to open this as soon as you sit down, but I guess that’s close enough. Anyways, I’m super excited for you. You’ve been talking about Boston College since your sophomore year and now it’s all happening.

I wrote you this letter because I wanted to tell you something that I didn’t have the guts to say to your face. I started thinking about it this summer during that week you went away with your family to Arizona. It sucked to be away from you even for just a few days and it made me really sad to think that that was pretty much how it was gonna be once you left for college.

You’re gonna be really mad, but promise me you’ll read everything and not just throw it away after this part. Ok… so when my sister Lana’s boyfriend left for college and she stayed home for school, she was miserable. She would have to stay up late to talk to him on the phone because of the time difference, she would check her e-mail like a million times a day, and she would keep playing the same stupid sad songs over and over. They tried to stay together and it lasted until he came home for Christmas break, but then after that, he didn’t talk to her as much because he was doing his own thing.

I know this is going to sound selfish, but I don’t want us to be like that. I don’t want to be like my sister. You’ve been talking about Boston College forever and you should have fun. College is supposed to be fun. It’s going to be my senior year of high school and I want to have fun, too. But neither of us will have fun if we’re trying to stay in touch and be together when we’re not actually together.

I think even if I could have told you all this in person, you would have talked me out of it because I love you. That’s why I had to write it to you. I love you and I want to be with you, but it’s going to be too hard. I know that sounds stupid or like I’m giving up, but I’ve seen my sister go through it and I don’t want to go through it.

Life is going to suck right now and for a long time, but we can see each other in December and see where to go from there. I’m really sorry, Royce. I do love you, you know. Call me when you get in.

Love you, babe.

C!

What. The. Fuck. Royce folded the letter and held it in his hands. He turned his head to look out the window. The plane was still on the ground but he already felt far away-someplace else. He wept and let the tears fall. They may have been drops of anger or sadness, but either tastes the same.