Everything I Need by Natalie Barnes

drivers open doors for me. I can understand the A-listers, but not me.
    It’s kind of cool outside. For fall here, some would say it’s chilly, but since I’m still used to Michigan, this is still like summer. The damp air feels refreshing on my skin. My body is already overheating at the mere thought of being around Tristan.
    It can’t be that my clothes are too warm. I’m wearing a pair of black jeans and a long-sleeved, white cotton t-shirt. It even rides up a little in the front to show a sliver of my stomach. I kind of like it. It reminds me of the blue top that Liv Tyler wore in Empire Records. My style is very simple- jeans, tees, and anything that reminds me of the ’94, ’95 time period. I’ve always thought that the style back then not only looked good, but was comfortable as fuck.
    The driver pulls my suitcase out of the trunk and smiles at me with his warm eyes glowing.
    “I’ll take this, miss,” he says to me before shutting the trunk.
    This is a smaller airport than LAX and it’s located in Santa Ana. I nod back at the older gentleman, pushing my long hair out of my face and following him in. Damn. I just want to grab my suitcase from him and do it myself. I feel silly just walking behind this guy who, by the way, is only wheeling one suitcase. Granted, it’s a large one; Frankie did my packing and I told him to only fill one suitcase. Of course he pouted about it, but then he got back at me by pulling out the biggest one I had.
    I smile to myself at the thought. Frankie kicked me out of my room and told me he was in charge of packing for me. I’m kind of scared at what he picked out, but yesterday I felt like shit and decided to just go with it. I ended up crashing on the couch.
    As we pass through the doors, I keep close behind my driver. I’ve never been to this airport before and I have no idea where to go for private jets. We came in through a different entrance so it’s nothing like the open space you would typically see when traveling coach. A middle-aged woman with dark brown hair and, of course , perky breasts, greets us. I think a majority of the women in southern California have great breasts. Shit, going to a plastic surgeon out here is just as common as getting your teeth cleaned.
    “Good morning, Ms. Ariel,” she says, reaching her well-manicured hand out to me. I take hold of it, hoping to God she doesn’t notice how nervous I am and how sweaty it is. Her nametag says her name is Linda, and I give her a weak smile back.
    Once my suitcase is handed off, Linda leads me through to another area where she points at these glass doors facing the strip.
    “They’re already boarding, miss. I’ll see that your suitcase is taken care of. If you’ll just go through those doors, we’ll have someone usher you to the jet.”
    She gives me one last smile before she turns back the way we came. Exhaling, I push through the glass doors and instantly, my ears fill up with the sound of the jet engines. Their force whips my hair around as I stride for the jet.
    A young man gives me a nod as I approach the stairs before he goes back to talking with someone else. I take hold of the railing and start taking the steps carefully, hoping to God that Tristan has chosen to do what he did last time we were on a jet together- take the only room. All I want is to just get to my seat on the sofa and crash.

Tristan
     
    This is fucking killing me right now. In a matter of minutes I will be face to face with Sophia again, only now she has no place to run. I’m so fucking tired, but I thought maybe she would want the only bed on this jet, so I decided to hang out here with the rest of my band.
    While I’m stretching out my legs and trying to get comfortable, Caleb pats my shoulder once.
    “Holy shit, hey!” Caleb says, his voice high pitched with excitement.
    His blue eyes widen. He’s wearing a grin so fucking big you’d think it would crack his skin. Not saying anything to him, I adjust myself in this