Nova's gone silent.

She's staring at the latte in her hand while she fiddles with the zipper of the leather jacket she never seems to take off. A look of sadness penetrates her dark brown eyes.

I don't know if I've said something to offend her or not. Even if it is something I said, she shouldn't be taking it so personally. I've said nothing but the truth – she does have that bitchy act down to a science. The only thing I've done wrong is held words back.

I think there is more to Nova Elliot than the way she acts and dresses, than the way she comes across. We lose our innocence as life progresses, but we also learn lessons and develop the skills needed to handle emotions and unfortunate situations. The severity of them is what determines how great or diminutive the change will be.

I think Nova has gone through something serious – no one could ever be this cold or disconnected from society unless it was true.

At first, I thought Nova was just an uptight bitch. Time, though, has made me think differently. I've seen things that contradict her persona, things that make her seem just as humane as anyone rather than the steel-hearted girl with abrasive walls.

I don't know what has caused her to act like this, but it's intriguing. She's a puzzle that's missing several pieces, and I want to find them; piece her back together until I can see the whole picture.

And I plan to do that this summer. I am going to find a crack in those walls and spring through like a weed, intrusive and unable to notice until it's too late.

All of a sudden, my phone rings. I remove it from my pocket and look at the caller ID. It's my sister, and I can already predict what she's going to ask. It'll be something about how the airport is, how Nova is, and how excited she is to see us.

Telling Nova I'll be right back, I walk in the direction of Starbucks. "Hazel," I say, lifting the phone to my ear.

"Warren!" Hazel's excited voice sounds scratchy through the phone. "Are you at the airport right now?"

I continue walking until I come to a large fountain that resides in front of a chain of small shops and sit down on the ledge. Water splashes against the back of my neck, but it doesn't faze me. "Yeah," I reply, running a hand through my hair.

"Great! So how is Nova doing? I can't wait to meet her." She pauses. "And see you, of course. I want to know all about what life has been like for the campus's all-star volleyball player."

I roll my eyes at how easy it is to predict my sister's conversation topics. "Yeah," I repeat, trying to sound excited. I'm very happy for my sister and Greyson, but the wedding shit gets annoying after a while. I've gotten nothing but updates since I agreed to return to Halifax.

Speaking of Halifax...When we arrive, I'm definitely going to need to find a way to distract myself from everything. I think back to the contemporary bars that dot the streets. I was never old enough to visit any of them, but now I am. I grin at the thought. I wonder if I'll see any of my ex-high school hook-ups.

"I'm excited to see you, too, Haze," I continue. "It's been a long time. Nova's doing great. Looking forward to meeting everyone."

Big lie. She's a moody thing and hates me beyond belief. I don't know what she thinks about meeting my family, but I'm sure she couldn't care less. She hasn't asked a single thing about them.

"So," Hazel says. "What time does your flight arrive in Saint John?"

"Eleven twenty-three at night."

"Ouch. It's going to be a long day. Are you going to stay at a hotel and then drive in the morning?"

"I think so," I reply. "That's what I'd been planning."

And it's true. After a day of flying across the country, I don't want to spend all night driving. Nova and I already banter enough – as if we need overtiredness to contribute. Hell, my body would probably end up in a ditch before the night ended if we did that.

"Well, that's probably the smartest thing you can do," my sister says. "Driving tired can be dangerous."

I smile to myself. Hazel Ashford – always the cautious, proper one. My sister and I are polar opposites on the sibling field. I'm the one that always used to get in trouble, while she's the one that would continuously bail me out. Differences aside, we've always had a good relationship. I love my sister to death.

I'm about to crack a joke when an announcement comes over the loudspeaker about it being time to start boarding our flight. I'm quite far away from Nova and our gate, but when I look up, I easily spot her auburn hair. She's standing up, obviously searching for me.

"Haze?" I ask.

"Yes?"

"It's time to start boarding. I'll text or call you when we arrive in Saint John, okay?"

"Sounds good, little brother," she says. "See you tomorrow."

"Bye, sis."

I hang up and stuff my phone away, feeling like shit. I hate lying to my sister, but it was the only way to get everyone off my back. My family has been abundantly clear that they want me to settle down and raise a family at some point in my life. The very thought makes me laugh to myself. I am not the type of man that could keep a relationship going for more than a night. Which makes this whole situation ironic.

Ignorance is bliss.

I don't date girls – I meet them, hook up with them, and then never see them again. That's my motto.

I'm a mere two metres away from Nova when her purse slips from her shoulder, falling to the carpet. The contents spill out, causing her to roll her eyes and mutter something incoherent. She sets down her carry-on and then gathers the contents of her purse.

By the time she's gathered her belongings and is reaching for the carry-on, I've walked up and grabbed it, slinging it over my own shoulder. She looks up and blinks as if she's shocked to see me. My eyes search her face. I blamed her for not putting in enough effort, but I haven't been doing a great job either. She needs to stop acting like I'm the most repulsive thing she's ever seen and I need to stop acting like an ass. It's the only way our plan will work.

"You don't need to do that," she frowns.

"And you looked like you needed some help," I shrug.

She raises her eyebrows and I mentally prepare myself for some haughty criticism. Sure, doing something nice is out of character for me, but it's the contribution that counts.

Surprisingly, I'm wrong. All Nova does is nod and turn around, heading for the gate.

Momentarily, I'm shocked. But I quickly regain my composure and follow her, walking past a row of panelled windows that give a not-so-stunning view of the tarmac and take my place beside her.

As we wait, no words are spoken; we stand in silence, side-by-side, as we wait to hand over our boarding passes and passports.

I have a feeling that the flight is going to carry the same silence.