Gianna
The plane smelled like the usual mixture of recycled air and too many perfumes mixed together. People stuffed their bags overhead, some complaining, some already arguing with the attendants like the flight hadn’t even taken off yet. Rue and I were supposed to sit together, but then a small commotion broke out a few rows ahead, and suddenly seats were all being rearranged.
“Gianna!” Cassie called, waving as she approached. “Can I sit here? Some man in my row is arguing with everyone and my brain cannot take it.”
I blinked. “Uh—sure?”
Rue didn’t seem bothered at all. She was already chatting with the girl beside her. Figures. Rue could make friends with a rock.
So Cassie slid into the seat beside me, placed her hand luggage under the seat in one smooth motion, and buckled in. I
