• “Well. This is goodbye, I guess. I hope you have a nice flight. No hijackers or turbulence,” my dad said with a forced smile on his face. I smiled back.
    “Don’t worry about me, Dad. I’ll be fine and I’ll call you every time we land and they let me use my phone. I miss you already.”
    “Attention, all passengers on flight 7638 from Oakland, California to Atlanta, Georgia, the plane is now ready for boarding,” the voice over the PA system announced.
    I looked at the small desk where they were now taking tickets from the passengers, then back to my dad. We hugged and then I turned my back on my dad and walked up to the small desk to give my ticket to the blond headed man behind the counter. After that, I only looked back once, while I was walking down the tunnel to the plane, before I couldn’t see Ken anymore. I was proud of myself because I hadn’t started crying yet.
    Well, that would change soon enough. I found my seat on the plane and settled in for a long day of switching planes, sleeping, and some crying thrown in here and there. I put my bag in the seat to make it look like someone else was sitting next to me and turned on my music player. I was totally zoned out.
    A hand tapped me on my bare shoulder and I shuttered. It was unnaturally warm, like the person who owned it had burned the appendage, or was running a temperature. I looked up and was about to claim that someone was already sitting next to me when I saw the body’s face.
    It was a very symmetrical face, like God had spent more time making it, or blessed it with more than the normal amount of loveliness. The eyes, almost hidden by the messy raven black of his hair, were the perfect size to accentuate the wonderfully constructed nose the face owned. They were a very vibrant and smoldering grey color, though how they smoldered while being a color so dreary was beyond me. His cheekbones were pronounced, but not so much so that it would give the impression that he had an eating disorder.
    When I finally realized he was speaking to me, (using his amazingly full lips, I might add) I was out of it. I’m not sure of the exact number of times he had to ask his question before I could actually respond. I’m sure it was more than two.
    When I finally did answer his question, it was simply an action. I moved my bag from the seat beside me and moved to the window seat. Then I realized that that was not what he had been asking.
    “Are you Kyria McClintock? It’s an Irish last name and you’re the only red head I’ve found on the plane, so you must be her.”
    “Umm.” So much for a witty response. “I am, actually. Why do you ask?” I looked at him warily. “You’re not staking me out as your next victim, are you?”
    He laughed and it did weird things to the inside of my stomach. “If I was a serial murderer, I wouldn’t kill you. I would have to save you for all eternity.” He smiled a really amazing heart-wrenching smile. “No, though. I’m a dancer from the Institute. I’ve been sent to make sure that you arrive safely.”
    “Oh. Well, that was nice of the Institute,” I said happily. Then my forehead wrinkled. “Why would they do that with me, though? I’m just a girl from California.” I shook my head, trying to make sense of it, and some of my red hair flew out of the loose bun it was in on the top of my head.
    “You have amazingly beautiful hair. It’s such a vibrant color…” He trailed off, grabbing a wisp of my hair and avoiding my question. He smiled that smile again and twisted the stray piece around the bun on top of my head. “Do you know how many people would kill for hair as natural as yours?”
    “I don’t know,” I hedged. “Should I?”
    “There are many,” he said as he sat down beside me in the aisle seat. He seemed to remember something just then. “I never even introduced myself, did I?” he questioned. “Hey. My name is Rome Masters.” He smiled that amazing smile again that I was beginning to think of as mine.
    “Kyria …but you already knew that. You said you were a dancer. Do you teach it or are you a student?”
    “I’m a student, though I think I’m better than most of the teachers. What about you? Are you a dancer, actor, singer, or designer?”
    “I’m all of them, except a designer. I’m going to take classes for dancing, acting, and singing, anyway. Really, I’ll major in dancing; I’m better at acting, though. Dance is so much more enjoyable to me than acting. I don’t like acting. It just feels so… fake, I guess, is the word I’m looking for.” I was babbling. “What about you? Did you follow your dream or did you major in what you were good at?”
    Rome looked towards the aisle then back at me. “Both, I guess. Dance is my life too. It just happens that I’m really good at what I like to do.”
    “Lucky! That’s not fair! I’ll have to work so much harder to get as good as you.” A thought occurred to me just then. “Hey.”
    “Hay is for horses.” He smiled at me and the lame joke he knew he had just made.
    I gave him my best scathing look but he flashed a smile and I returned one. “Don’t do that when I’m trying to be mad.” I looked away from him. “I have a question about your name. I have extra dance sessions and my dance teacher’s last name is Masters. Are you… Are you related to him or something?”
    “Are you just now putting that together, Kyria?” He threw an amused grin at me.
    “Yes, now answer the stupid question!” I looked around as the voice of the stewardess came over the plane’s speakers to inform us of all the safety procedures. When I looked back at Rome, he had an intelligent and attentive look on his face as he watched the steward acting out the words that the voice over the intercom was saying.
    Then his eyes darted over to my face and he saw my analyzing expression. What is he doing? I thought.
    I forgot my question, however, when he smiled my smile, looking sheepish. I couldn’t help but smile back. Well, I thought, there goes any resistance I would have had against him.
    “Hey.”
    “Are you gonna answer me?” I tried to sound angry, but I don’t think I succeeded.
    “Yeah, I am.” He smiled wider.
    “You are … what?” I think I sounded confused because he laughed at me.
    “I am the Masters in your schedule.”
    It took me a couple of seconds to comprehend the meaning of his words. “What?! You’ve got to be kidding me! I thought you were a student!” I turned towards the window of the plane, thinking about all the one-on-one time we would get. I started hyperventilating.
    “Calm down, Kyria,” he commanded as he grabbed my shoulders and turned me around to face him. “It’s the last semester. The school wanted you to get what you paid for. I’m the best in the school so…they chose me as your trainer. Don’t worry though,” he said as the ‘Fasten Seat Belt’ sign came on, “you won’t be alone with me. Another person just transferred in. They will be training with you, too.” He smiled my smile again and I started breathing normally once more. “That’s better.”
    He let go of my shoulders and I immediately wanted his now normal temperature hands back on me. I looked out the window to prevent myself from reaching out to Rome.
    The plane started rolling away from the gate and maneuvered itself to the closest and most suitable take off lane.