She was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. I'd first noticed her when she walked by me at the terminal, and I had tried to work up the courage to talk to her the entire time we'd been waiting. It had been a stroke of sheer luck that we'd ended up seated next to each other.

And to think, I almost hadn't come.

My dad had wanted me to stay in Massachusetts with him, participate in summer training for Boston College. He was obsessed with my football career. He'd been a player himself back in the day, but a knee injury had prevented him from making it to the NFL.

My mother had wanted me to come to London to see her, do a chemistry intensive at Cambridge where she taught. That was where she wanted me to go next year.

But I decided to go to Hawaii. I'd gotten a job at the pretty cool place that took groups on wilderness excursions. Ziplining, rafting, horseback riding, hiking, you get the picture. It was what I wanted to do. And I rarely got to do what I wanted to do. Besides, once this summer was over I'd have to choose. Cambridge or BU. My mother or my father. Science or football. Secretly, I didn't want either of those options. Those were my parents dreams, not mine. This was sort of my last hurrah. My last decision for me and no one else.

Obviously I'd made the right call. When she'd pulled out a book I think I forgot how to breathe. Even though it was a murder mystery.

I gazed at her carefully. I liked to watch people. I was good at it. I could tell you things about a person from the way they walked. Their maiden name, the way they liked their coffee, if they were an only child or not. I could figure it out from their habits, their nervous tics, how they carried themselves.

It was actually quite easy once you got the hang of it, for me at least. Human behavior was the foundation of so much. If you observed enough about someone, you could tell a lot about them.

She had dark blue nail polish on. An odd choice for summer, which made me think that it was something she wore consistently, no matter the season. A habit, a routine she'd grown used to. They were shorter than you'd expect, not ragged and bloodied, like she'd bitten them. But, blunt, neat and flat. She must pick at them. I wondered why. She had pretty hands, miniature in comparison to my gargantuan paws. They were perfect for football, as my father often liked to remind me. "Jakey boy those hands of yours will take you all the way to the NFL". I briefly pictured what it might be like to hold her hand in mine, twine our fingers together. I'd rub my thumb along the back of her palm and ask her why she picked at her fingernails, and- and my mother would tell me to stop letting emotions cloud my judgment. "Emotions only get in the way of true observation, Jacob. Psychology is no science. It is guesswork." My mother hated guesswork.

She liked lists. And facts. Mainly lists. In fact, when she divorced my father she printed out a list of reasons why she was doing it and slipped it under my bedroom door. Double spaced, Times New Roman, 12 pt font.

Then she left, and it was like she'd never been there at all. Every trace of her was wiped clean, my mother was nothing if not thorough. If she was here right now she'd tell me to make a list. Lists help us take the next step, Jacob. Write down everything you know and start from there.

Everything I knew:

1. She was very pretty. A different kind of pretty, though. One that was harder to put into words. She was pretty like grass after it rained. Like the crunch of autumn leaves or a cloudless day.

2. Her eyes got brighter when she read a passage she liked in her book. Blue sparks set against dark lashes. It was mesmerizing.

3. She tucked her dark hair behind her ears and then took it out again. A cycle that repeated itself several times. Indecisive, my mother would say. Weird, my father would say. I would say it was an unconscious act to her, like breathing. Also, when her hair fell in front of the line of her cheek, my heart stopped beating. So there was that.

4. She sat with her legs crossed underneath her, arms tight against her. Practically screaming, don't talk to me. I had already broken this rule, evidently.

5. She had a pin on her backpack with a quote from Wicked, and she drummed her fingers on the armrest. This meant she liked to sing. Do not ask me why I know quotes from Wicked.

Things I did not know:

1. Her name. This was sort of an important one. The flight attendant has called her miss and she made no objections, therefore she was comfortable with female pronouns, so at least I knew that. Wrong place, Jacob.

2. If she thought I was attractive. Also important. Very important

3. Her sexual orientation

4. Her relationship status

5. If she liked me

I really wanted her to like me.

The things I did not know were all important. Things one should know about a person before chasing after them. My mother would be appalled I had even made a list for things I didn't know. If you do not know something, learn it. In fact, she'd be appalled that I made any list for the purpose of expressing my emotions about a girl I wanted to get to know. Doctor Beatrice Sullivan had no patience for inconsequential matters such as that.

How would my father approach the situation? He'd probably tell me to stop using my head, and charm her or something. He'd say, "Just tell her you're a wide receiver, Jakey. Chicks lap that stuff up. You're an athlete, lead with that."

Somehow I had a feeling that this girl would not react well to that particular method. Then again, I didn't believe she'd react all that well to me obsessively watching her and picking up on her every move until I knew everything about her. That sounded stalkery. Or serial killery. Those were not words.

It was a constant battle.

Brains or brawn.

He has a brilliant mind, Brad. If he utilized it properly- Bea, he's just a boy. He does not need to be in a lab. He needs to be outside, running, building muscle.

Why couldn't I just be me?

That was the question of the hour.

What would Jacob do? How would I approach the situation? Not like Beatrice would do it. Not like Brad would do it. Like Jacob would do it. Like me. If only it was that simple. If only I knew who I was. I had to figure something out fast, though. The plane was about to take off, and if she wasn't talking to me now she never would. So, I did the only thing I could think of.

I texted Danny.

Jake: SOS

Jake: SOS

Danny: dude are u not on a plane rn?

Jake: We're about to take off.

Jake: THAT IS NOT THE POINT.

Danny: what is the point?

Danny: have you accidentally turned caps lock on again? bc this feels aggressive for 8:00 at night.

Jake: NO I HAVE NOT.

Jake: I AM TYPING THIS WAY ON PURPOSE.

Jake: I NEED TO STRESS THE STAKES OF WHAT IS HAPPENING.

Danny: which is...

Jake: THERE IS A CUTE GIRL NEXT TO ME

Danny: pic?

Jake: NO! She'll think I'm insane.

Danny: chances are that's already happened bud

Jake: Fuck u

Danny: so is that all?

Jake: NO!

Jake: NOT ONLY IS SHE ATTRACTIVE, BUT SHE IS ALSO READING.

Jake: SHE IS READING DANIEL!!!!

Jake: A BOOK

Jake: A REAL BOOK.

Danny: not a stage prop? shocked

Jake: I WILL NOT LET YOU TAKE AWAY FROM MY EXCITEMENT WITH YOUR INCESSANT SARCASM!

Jake: SHE IS HIGHLY ATTRACTIVE AND SHE READS

Danny: and u have already fallen in love with her

Danny: havent u?

Jake: It is possible.

Danny: *sigh*

Jake: OMG DANNY SHE'S FINISHED HER BOOK. WE HAVEN'T EVEN TAKEN OFF AND SHE'S FINISHED HER BOOK.

Jake: SHE WAS PROBABLY READING IN THE AIRPORT TOO

Jake: It's a murder mystery

Jake: But still

Danny: book snob

Danny: why don't you talk to her

Jake: I tried!

Jake: ...sort of

Jake: IN MY DEFENSE SHE IS VERY PRETTY AND I WAS FLUSTERED BY ALL THE BOOK READING

Danny: lemme guess

Danny: now you're staring at her and doing that creepy thing u do when u try to figure a person out

Jake: It's not creepy

Jake: It's observation.

Danny: creepy observation

Jake: I NEED TO LEARN MORE ABOUT HER BEFORE I TRY TO TALK TO HER AGAIN OKAY

Danny: what's her name

Jake: I don't know

Danny: you-

Danny: YOU DON'T KNOW?!

Jake: WE DIDN'T GET THAT FAR DANIEL

Danny: DID YOU GET ANYWHERE JACOB?!

Jake: I WILL be getting somewhere. Once I find out more about her.

Danny: by being creepy

Jake: *OBSERVATION

Danny: or: crazy idea

Danny: you could just ask her her name

Danny: and see where it goes from there

Danny: she's done with her book, she might be more open to talking

Danny: it's perfect

Danny: do it

Danny: do it u dumbass

Danny: jake?

Danny: jake istg if you are ignoring me right now

Danny: jacob gregory sullivan jones

Danny: JAKE?!

The calm voice of the flight attendant floated over the speakers, "Please turn all devices onto airplane mode as we prepare for takeoff. Make sure all seats are in their full, upright positions, carry ons stowed, and tray tables are securely fastened. Airline wifi will be available for use once we are up in the air. Thank you for flying with us today."

My conversation with Danny would have to wait. Next to me, the girl flipped her own phone to airplane mode. The plane rumbled along the runway, engine growling with acceleration. This was it. Now or never.

I cleared my throat, "Sucks that we can't use our phones, right?"

She glanced up, a little taken off guard. She tucked a piece of chocolate hair behind her ear, eyes trained on the seat in front of her. It was a habit. I was right. A nervous one. Was I making her nervous? Was that a good thing?

We have no use for emotion, Jacob.

Emotions are for pussies, Jakey, be a man.

"Oh," she said, nodding her head, "yeah. I guess."

Off to a rocky start, Jones. Get your head in the game. Ew. I sounded like my dad. Just talk to her, I encouraged myself. It's not that deep.

"Yeah the flight's going to be pretty boring without it," I continued, internally wincing at my ineptitude. What was happening to me?

She gave me a strange look, tilting her head, "I think there'll be wifi in a bit."

"Right. Yes. Of course." I almost slapped my hand to my forehead on the spot. Name. I needed her name. And I should probably tell her mine, while I was at it. She was closing up again, arms hugging her knees to her chest. Just ask her name, you dimwit! I opened my mouth, "By the way, my name is J—"

"I think I'm going to try to get some rest," she cut me off before I could finish. She flashed me that smile you make when you see someone you know in public, but don't actually want to talk to them. "I've finished my book. Long flight, and all. You know."

"Oh— sure." She was already shifting away from me, curling into the tiniest ball possible so she could smush herself in the corner of her seat and the siding of the plane. I tried not to sound too disappointed, but I doubt she would be noticed if I had. I got the message. She definitely did not want to talk to me. "Sure." You already said that, you big oaf! The girl wasn't listening anyways.

Her eyes drifted shut, back firmly turned to me. I wasn't sure if she was actually sleeping or just faking it to escape the suffering of speaking to me. I decided I didn't care. Was I lying to myself? Perhaps. However, this would give me ample time to observe more about her. Which was not creepy

At all.

Danny was just being dramatic. As Danny is. But Danny always seemed to have a boyfriend, or at least someone he was talking to. So maybe I was doing something wrong.

Her carry on bag was under her feet. It was dark blue, like her nails, and well loved. I could tell by the wear and tear on the straps. There were some keychains, pins, on the outside. The Wicked quote, a button from a band whose name I couldn't make out. A friendship bracelet, blowing in the cold air blasting from the vents above our seats. It was fraying at the edges, like she twisted the ends when she was anxious. I filed that along with the hair tucking under nervous habits. That bracelet was special to her. It was nothing much to look at, just three pieces of string, which I assumed had once been different colors but were no longer distinct enough from each other. She kept it close to her, someone had given it to her. Someone she cared about.

The bag was half unzipped, giving me a peek into its contents. Three— no four, four books, spines cracked with use. A laptop, a pack of gum, and a notebook. I craned my neck as far as I could. The notebook was plain, black, three spiral rings circling around and around. The cover was covered with spiderweb cracks and folds, smudged thumbprints dotting the edges of the creased pages. She drew.

A lot.

Interesting.

And she preferred a journal over a sketchpad. More private, I suppose. And from what I had gleaned so far, she appeared to like her privacy. What did she draw? I didn't know that yet. I added it to the list.

The plane's loudspeaker system crackled to life again, "Wifi is now available for passenger use." I started at the abrupt sound, and shifted my gaze over to the girl. She hadn't been bothered, by the looks of it. That was good. Especially since I'd been ogling her stuff with the intensity of a laser. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I slid it out, texts I had missed coming through at rapid pace.

Mother: On the plane? Details.

Dad: Let me know when you land, sport. You know how Bea gets.

I did know how my mother got. I also knew that she hated being called Bea. I ignored both texts. I'd answer them later. And then there were a whole slew of texts from Danny. I scrolled through them slowly, shaking my head.

Danny: you could just ask her her name

Danny: and see where it goes from there

Danny: she's done with her book she might be more open to talking

Danny: it's perfect

Danny: do it

Danny: do it u dumbass

Danny: jake?

Danny: jake istg if you are ignoring me right now

Danny: jacob gregory sullivan jones

Danny: JAKE?!

Jake: Hey, man. Sorry, just got wifi.

Danny: so?

Jake: So

Danny: jake

Jake: Dan

Danny: u crashed and burned didn't u?

Jake: She is napping

Danny: that bad huh?

Danny: did u at least get her name

Jake: ...

Danny: dude

My tray table shook in front of me, the result of a few bumps. Beside me, the girl rustled in her sleep. She was roused by the sudden jolt. She shifted slightly, position changed. And then, by a stroke of sheer luck- maybe the universe decide to grant me some cosmic grace, whatever the case, her head delicately came to rest on my shoulder.

I'm pretty sure I stopped breathing.

She was actually sleeping now, I knew. Her face was the most relaxed I'd seen it, and her breaths were even. I could smell her hair. Let me just repeat that.

I could smell her hair.

I didn't dare move an inch. I was afraid to breathe, lest I wake her. This was too much for me.

I didn't even know her name, but I could smell her hair.

Jake: SHJSKJLSKSJKNALSKJWWLNKDNS

Danny: are you having a stroke

Jake: CHJFHLFBLJKJSLDKJSLD

Danny: is that a yes?

Jake: she is asleop on mu shold r

Danny: excuse me

Jake: SHE IS ASLEP ON MYS HUODER

Jake: ASLEEO ON MY SHODER

Jake: ASLEEP ON MY SHOULDER

Danny: i can tell you're handling this very well

Jake: DAN HER HEAD IS ON MY SHOULDER HER HAIR IS NEAR MY FACE AND IT SMELLS LIKE ROSES AND WHAT DO I DO IF SHE WAKES UP

Danny: yes you seem extremely calm

Jake: HELP ME

Danny: first of all u still don't know her name

Danny: second of all do u even know if she's attracted to the male species

Jake: no

Jake: She has a pride pin on her backpack

Danny: that literally tells me nothing

Jake: Well what do you need to know?

Danny: u did the creepy thing didn't u

Jake: just tell me what you need to know and HELP ME DANNY

Danny: fine

Danny: ugh

Danny: u owe me mf

Jake: Yes yes I am indebted to you forever, you are the king of everything. I would be nowhere without you

Danny: thats a start

Danny: ok what is she wearing

Jake: uh

Jake: A grey t-shirt, loose like she wears it a lot. It has writing on it that I can't read. Jeans, mid rise, medium wash. They're not hers. They're big around the hips and there's bunching where her knees bend. There's a rip, but it's not there on purpose. Black hightop converse, with writing on the sole. They're her favorites.

Danny: u scare me sometimes

I noticed then how small she really was. I mean, I was tall. Above average at a whopping 6'1. But this girl was short by any standards.

Danny: jewelry? yes that includes piercings

Jake: She has her ears pierced twice but no earrings in. She's wearing rings, five in total. One necklace, she fiddles with it when she's uncomfortable. It's simple, gold, with a small circle pendant.

Danny: terrifying

Danny: what does her phone look like

Jake: Blue case, protects it with her life. She hates it when it's in someone else's hands. Her lock screen is— wait one second...

Carefully, I tapped the screen of her phone. It was still lying next to her on her seat, face up. The screen lit up, an image of three people popping up with bright focus. She was in the middle, beaming. On one side of her was a long limbed girl with a smattering of freckles and a mass of red curls. On the other was a lanky guy, blond hair, an arm wrapped around her shoulders. They were standing on the beach. She liked the beach. Another fact. Take that mother. I felt a tiny needle of jealousy prick me. Who was that guy? He wasn't unattractive.

Jake: It's her and her two best friends. A guy and a girl. She's closer with each of them than they are with each other. She's the glue.

Danny: hm

Danny: in my esteemed opinion: 85% odds she is attracted to men, whether she's bi, pan, straight, or anything else i'm not sure

Danny: 15% odds that she is a raging lesbian and finds you repulsive

Danny: and 100% odds that you are insane and ignoring my advice as you obsess over whether the guy on her screensaver is her boyfriend

Jake: Thanks man :|

Jake: but like

Jake: Do u think he's her boyfriend

Danny: jake

Jake: I don't CARE

Jake: but like do u think he is

The little bubbles appeared next to Danny's name, signaling that he was responding. Before I could see his response, however, we hit a pocket of air. My head knocked back onto the seat. She began to stir on my shoulder. Oh my god. Oh my god. She was waking up. SHE WAS WAKING UP. What was I supposed to do now?! She opened her eyes, pupils slick with sleep.

I was looking straight at her. I smiled sheepishly, "Uh- hi."