《STAGED》Twenty-Four

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"Flight 2412 departing to Newark, New Jersey will begin boarding in just a moment."

I close my laptop and pack it into my carry-on bag. I'm dreading the long flight back to America and sitting between two strangers. I pray they don't talk to me; I can't handle faking pleasantries right now.

The last few days of the European leg of the tour, I disengaged from everyone. I needed some breathing room, and I despised the thought of their pity. How can they not feel sorry for me; poor A.J., she's so clueless. I even skipped out before the concert was over, wanting to avoid the awkward goodbyes.

It's not only the sympathy of others that's bothering me; I'm going to be with Asher for the next two weeks. He's hiding something from me, and it seems the entire world knows what it is. I'm not looking forward to persuading him to tell me what's going on.

If I were asked a week ago, I would've said this was it. During this trip, I'm going to give Asher all he wanted. We're moving forward and taking our relationship to a new mature level. But now, I'm not sure that I want to even look at him.

I stay in my seat as the gate agent calls my row to board the plane. Everyone around me has an aura of excitement, and I can't relate at all. I don't want to go.

"This is the final boarding call for flight 2412 to Newark."

What's the worst that can happen if I don't get on the plane? I have to call the airline and pay to ship my luggage to wherever I go. Where would I go? The possibilities are endless, but even better than that—I won't have to deal with anyone who has upset or confused me. It's a freeing notion that I'm the only person who will know where I am.

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The gate closes, and a huge smile takes residence on my face. I just wasted an expensive plane ticket, and Dad's going to kill me.

Making my way through the airport, my mind races with possibilities. I stop in front of the monitor with the departing destinations and weigh my options. I can go somewhere I've never been before...maybe Japan or Brazil?

With an indecisive sigh, I turn and face a little wine bar. The patrons sit around bistro tables, and they all seem happy and at ease. And just like that, the answer becomes clear.

I want to go back to the vineyard.

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