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The plane was half-full, and as I took my seat, George’s face was full of wonder. I inwardly groaned, waiting for him to completely go against what I’d asked of him.
Sure enough, he didn’t even wait until I’d belted up. Luckily, I already had my laptop switched on in preparation.
‘This is so weird. People are walking through me. They really can’t feel anything? Nothing at all?’
I told you I wasn’t speaking to you, I typed.
‘Well, sure, but you can at least nod and shake your head, can’t you?’ he asked, ducking out of the way of falling baggage.
No, I’d look like an utter moron.
‘You do anyway. Joke, don’t kill me.’
If only I could.
‘What does that say?’ he asked, leaning over and squinting. He rolled his eyes. ‘Oh, now who’s the joker?’
I didn’t call you a joker! What are you even talking about? I tapped furiously, getting annoyed. The passenger on the seat next to me started to get a little curious, oblivious to the fact that George’s head was poking out of his rotund stomach.
‘Somebody mentioned jokes.’
That was you!!
‘Was it? Oh, right. Well, anyway, what was I talking about?’ he pondered, before clicking his fingers as he remembered. ‘Of course! Look at me, I am halfway through this guy. Look!’
Stop whining, I can’t look. He’s already nervous, I’m not about to stare at his torso. Stop that!
‘I wasn’t doing anything,’ he sulked, taking his fingers out of the poor man’s eyes. ‘I’m bored. How long is this flight?’
A couple hours, I think. We’ve also got one stop. Think you can entertain yourself? I need a megaton of sleep.
Waving his hand one more time in front of the guy’s face, he finally sloped off towards the cockpit.
‘Fine. I’ll let you know if they’re napping,’ he called back, disappearing through the door.
Holding my head in my hands, I breathed deeply until I figured I was calm enough. I opened my eyes to see the guy peering at my computer screen, baffled. He saw me looking at him and gave me a strange look.
‘I hope to be the next Mark Twain,’ I informed him, wishing I was wearing lens-free glasses so I could snootily push them up my nose.
As it was, he gazed back to the random sentences and blinked at me.
‘Good luck with that.’
He then shuffled as far away from me as humanly possible, leaving me free to finally close my eyes and rest.
The rest of the flight and the next one were thankfully uneventful. George had decided the cockpit was simply fascinating and spent the whole journey in there. Except for the time I looked out the window to see him dancing on the wing. That... took me by surprise.
He started badgering me the second we landed in Miami, but I stood my ground this time and refused to acknowledge him until we were in the hire car, away from the general populace.
‘Did you talk this much when you were alive?’ I groaned.
He threw his hands up in the air, laughing.
‘Oh, now you talk! I’ve been going stir-crazy here, thinking you could no longer see me or something. It totally freaked me out. I thought I was stuck. What were you doing?’
‘What I said I was doing. No talking in planes or airports. Or any public place, for that matter. Learned that lesson many times, the hard way,’ I shuddered, pulling out straight into a ten-mile long traffic jam. Great. The AC was broken and blasting hot air and the car wasn’t even a convertible. Add to that George chattering in my ear and what a beautiful day this was turning out to be. I should’ve stayed in school.
‘You could have at least looked at me,’ he pouted, folding his arms. I couldn’t believe his attitude. Wasn’t he the one complaining that I was a child only yesterday?
‘Right, whatever. Shall we move on?’
‘Sure. What’s our play?’
‘Our what?’ I asked, inching along ever so slowly. The hotel I’d booked claimed to be a ten-minute drive from the airport. This was a long ten minutes.
‘You know,’ he went on, shaking his head disbelievingly at me. ‘Our plan. God, are you a detective or not?’
‘Not,’ I answered firmly, wondering again why I was here. ‘I’ve said this from the start.’
‘Yeah, why is that? You seem to hate helping guys like me and Ronnie. You know that’s weird, right?’
‘Yup, that’s the weird part about this,’ I agreed sarcastically.
‘I’m serious! A lot of people would kill for this. You see the dead-’
‘Ugh, this again?’ I groaned. I thought that whole conversation was finished.
‘Yes, this again. You never actually answered my question earlier. What are your plans after school?’
I bit back whatever retort was forming in my mind because I could see he wasn’t about to give up with this question. And the answer was, I didn’t know. I had one year left of school and no path in mind. At all. I used to get good grades until I realized I got attention for it, cueing more bullying from Brandon. Ever since that, I kept to distinctly average scores in all classes. It was better that way. Besides, I didn’t particularly enjoy any of them either. I took no extracurricular activities; my spare time mostly being taken up with random lucies. I guess it’d make sense for me to somehow make a career out of this, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to. I wasn’t sure I wanted to do anything, come to that. I was happy where I was, and I had enough cash to stay like this for years to come.
I doubted College Boy here would understand. He was in fully-fledged revolutionary mode, whereas I was still an angst-ridden teen. He was ready to change the world but I was still hating it. At least I admitted that to myself, though. That’s got to count for something.
‘Don’t have any plans, but I’m rich so I don’t need any,’ I summed up succinctly. I correctly gauged his reaction as his face filled up with disgust.
‘You could make a difference.’
‘So could we all,’ I shrugged, finally pulling into the hotel parking lot. ‘Why didn’t you study medicine or work in a homeless shelter?’
He frowned.
‘That’s not the same thing. And maybe I would’ve done voluntary work in my spare time,’ he sniffed. ‘I guess we’ll never know now.’
I didn’t even bother replying. It was such a typical response from do-gooders everywhere. He wasn’t the first person to suggest I use my father’s hard-earned cash to fulfill their own agenda. That in itself was another thing that bothered me. It wasn’t even my money in the first place, and yet people treated me as if I was the millionaire. Like, what am I supposed to do? I don’t wear designer clothes, I don’t get manicures or facials or whatever. I drive a regular-looking car to school, for God’s sake. And still, in spite of all that, I get asked for donations. It’s never small, usually a couple hundred or thousand bucks. Who asks schoolkids for that type of money? I mean, come on. I’ve never been asked to give my time, either. They want me for one thing and when I refuse, suddenly I’m the bad guy.
‘I would have!’ George said firmly, which was cute. Everyone’s a believer in hindsight. ‘I always intended to-’
‘So, why didn’t you?’ I sighed, shutting off the engine and relishing the end of that journey.
‘I didn’t have the time. I had college-’
‘How many hours a week?’
He stopped himself from answering and only glared at me.
‘It’s not the same.’
‘Sure it is. Why is your time more valuable than mine?’
‘Because... forget it. You wouldn’t understand.’
‘And you wouldn’t understand me. And we’re unlikely to understand each other any time soon, so shall we drop it?’ I suggested, hoping he wouldn’t start a debate about morals. I couldn’t bear it.
Luckily, he nodded, albeit a little petulantly.
‘Great. I’m going to check in. Stay in the car until I come back.’
I unbelted and put my hand on the door ready to leave.
‘Wait. We still need a plan.’
‘Look, I don’t know. And I’m not about to discuss my entire life with you, alright?’ I snapped.
‘Whoa, hey. I didn’t mean that. I meant about Ronnie and his wife.’
‘Oh. Right. Well, that’s different. I need a background check on him. And her, come to that. I don’t even know his full story yet. I’ll have to wait until he eventually resurfaces. Did he mention a meeting place at all?’
‘Yeah, some bar on a beach a little south of here. He didn’t say when, though.’
‘Of course he didn’t. Hope sunbathing doesn’t bore you. Could be a long wait,’ I groaned.
‘I don’t mind. What did you mean by background check? You said the cops don’t listen to you anymore.’
‘Nope, that’s still true. I have a lawyer friend up in Seattle who can dig around. And if that fails, which she often does, it’s down to Mickey D.’
He looked confused.
‘Didn’t you eat on the plane?’
‘Mickey D is a kid from school. Not really a friend, but he’s an eager beaver.’
He stared at me, waiting for more explanation.
‘He’s fat.’
‘Oh. And do they know about, uh, this?’
‘In a sense- it’s a long story,’ I concluded. ‘I’ll tell you later.’