Uncharted Paths

Chapter Two: Airborne Annoyances

Boarding the plane was supposed to be organized. Calm. Efficient.

Instead, it was survival of the rudest.

Teri clutched her boarding pass and tried to breathe. Mandy, on the other hand, looked like she was ready to start swinging her carry-on like a medieval weapon.

“Just imagine the ocean,” Teri muttered, more to herself than anyone else. “Waves, sunshine, umbrella drinks.”

Mandy’s response was a low growl that made a toddler in front of them turn around and stare.

As the gate agent called their group, Teri and Mandy moved toward the line — only to have the two familiar disasters from earlier cut right in front of them without a second thought.

Mandy blinked, stunned for a split second, before her hands curled into fists.

“Unbelievable,” she hissed under her breath.

Teri barely kept herself from snapping something out loud. Instead, she ground her teeth together and glared at the back of Hoodie Guy’s head like she could set it on fire.

Up close, they were even worse.

The one in the black hoodie — Drew, according to the name flashing on his boarding pass — was tall and athletic, with broad shoulders that suggested he lived in a gym. His dark brown hair was cut clean at the sides, just messy enough to look effortless, and a stubborn line of stubble edged his strong jaw. Sharp green eyes flicked lazily around the crowd, a permanent smirk tugging at his mouth like he was in on some private joke no one else got. And judging by the way he moved — confident, casual — he knew exactly how good he looked.

His friend — Kyle — wasn’t any better.

Dirty blond hair brushed neatly across his forehead, blue-gray eyes steady and unreadable. He had that relaxed kind of strength that didn’t need to be shouted — built but quiet, like he knew exactly what he could do if he needed to. His T-shirt clung a little too well to a clearly built frame, and even the casual baseball cap didn’t hide the fact that he was the type of good-looking that usually came with a warning label.

They were the human embodiment of “we know we’re hot and we don’t care.”

Mandy made a noise under her breath that sounded suspiciously like a growl.

Teri’s gaze narrowed. It wasn’t just that they were attractive — it was the smugness radiating off them like heatwaves. Like they were used to doors opening and people excusing everything just because they smiled the right way.

“I already hate them,” Mandy muttered.

“Focus on the beach,” Teri whispered back. “Focus on the tan.”

But it was getting harder and harder to imagine sandy relaxation when Drew — Mr. Hoodie Disaster — managed to swing his backpack directly into Teri’s arm without even noticing.

“Ow,” Teri hissed under her breath, clutching her elbow.

Of course he didn’t look back. Why would he?

By the time they reached the jet bridge, Mandy looked about two seconds from committing a felony. Teri shot her a warning look, and Mandy threw her hands up silently, as if to say “I’m innocent until proven guilty.”

⸻

Inside the plane, things somehow got even worse.

Teri located their seats — middle and window — only to find Drew shoving his bag into the overhead bin directly above them, taking his sweet time like he owned the aisle.

Kyle was already sliding into the aisle seat next to them, grinning at something Drew said under his breath.

Mandy froze mid-step, staring at the seating chart on her phone like it might magically rearrange itself if she glared hard enough.

“You have got to be kidding me,” she said flatly.

Drew caught Teri’s glare and raised an eyebrow, a spark of amusement flickering in his eyes like he enjoyed being annoying.

Teri exhaled slowly, counted to three, and told herself again, “Vacation mode,” even though it now sounded like a desperate prayer.

They squeezed into their seats — Teri against the window, Mandy in the middle, Kyle a living, breathing wall at the aisle. His elbow brushed Mandy’s once, twice, and she shot him a look sharp enough to shave ice.

Teri adjusted her seatbelt with a little more force than necessary. Outside, the tarmac shimmered under the Texas sun, heatwaves blurring the edges of the runways. In another universe, this would’ve been the start of a peaceful, picture-perfect trip.

Instead, she was sandwiched between Mandy’s silent rage and Kyle’s heavy boots that somehow kept inching too close to her carry-on.

Across the aisle, Drew sprawled into his seat with all the chaotic energy of someone who didn’t understand personal space, one long leg half-kicking the aisle while he leaned back like he was settling into a beach chair.

Their voices — low, laughing, careless — floated across the seats. Teri tried to tune them out, tried to imagine ocean breezes and crashing waves, but her heart was pounding a little too hard.

Maybe it was the lingering frustration. Maybe it was the suffocating cabin air.

Or maybe it was the sinking feeling she couldn’t shake — the feeling that something was about to go very, very wrong.

And for once, it wouldn’t be their fault.