“Thanks. Enjoy your flight,” the woman at the gate tells me as she hands me my boarding pass. I nod and head down the tunnel to get on the plane that will take me to L.A. to see my boyfriend, Dave. He’s going to be a junior at UCLA. I’m going to be a sophomore at the University of Michigan, but I call Atlanta home. It’s where I’m spending my summer (all two weeks of it that’s left for me), and it’s where I am right now. Unbelievable, the kind of distance love can survive.
My parents are paying for my ticket. They got me into first class, meaning I’m one of the first people on the plane. I settle into my window seat in the fifth row on the left side of the plane. There’s a Backstreet Boys video playing on the movie screen at the front of the cabin, and I hum along. “…when you say, that I want it that way.”
After a moment, I reach in my backpack and pull out my CD player. I check to make sure my Backstreet Boys Millennium CD is inside. It is. So I put on my headphones and flip ahead to track 7, “Don’t Wanna Lose You Now”. It’s my favorite song. A lot of my friends give me crap about being a Backstreet Boys fan at my age. I tell them that it just gives me a better chance with AJ McLean, who is the sexiest man alive in my opinion. He’s only three years older than me.
A flight attendant bustles through the cabin to help some old guy put his stuff in the overhead compartment. She gives me a dirty look, and I remember that people aren’t supposed to have electronic devices on before takeoff. Supposedly they send out signals that distract the crew. Yeah, like they can really hear my CD player from back here.
15 minutes later, as they announce the obvious --- that I am on Delta flight 220, nonstop from Atlanta to Los Angeles LAX --- just about everyone who’s gonna be on this flight is on. I glance around and notice that first class is half-empty. Funny, they said this flight was booked solid. I know it was tough for me to get on. I wonder if they were just trying to discriminate against me because I’m a kid.
All of a sudden, I hear a voice at the front of the cabin. “Man, I was sure I was gonna miss this flight! Hi, how ya doing?” I realize that I know this voice. I mean, I don’t know it as in I personally know the guy it belongs to, but…
And then the guy makes his way down the aisle and plops down in the seat next to me. He’s a little taller than me, skinny, with a goatee that he obviously takes way too much care of. He’s wearing a white wife-beater and cargo pants, and this weird-ass leopard-print cowboy hat. And a pair of nice shades. He turns and smiles at me quickly as he fastens his seatbelt. I can’t breathe, because I know who the guy is. You’d have to be living under a rock not to know who he is.
I’m sitting next to AJ McLean. This is unbelievable.
I don’t dare talk to him, because I know that if I so much as open my mouth, I’m going to scream and cry. I’m going to regress to age nine, when I went to a New Kids On The Block concert and a friend of a friend got me backstage to meet Jordan, who I loved back then. I’m 18 now, and it’s not cool for me to scream and cry and hyperventilate anymore. Hell, I have to hide in my room to watch TRL.
As the flight attendant comes around and gives us headphones so we can listen to and watch the little safety video, AJ turns to me and comments, “I thought I was gonna miss this flight. My flight from Florida was late. Stupid pilot thinking he could fly on half a tank of gas…” He makes a face.
I just nod and say stupidly, “Yeah.” I have no idea how I’m going to be able to sit here for six hours or however the hell long this flight is and not freak out.
“So, you from Atlanta?” he asks me.
“Yeah.”
“Cool. What’s your name?”
“Lauren.” I pause for a second. “You don’t have to tell me what your name is. I already know. You’re AJ from the Backstreet Boys.” I’m surprised I can make it through this many syllables without passing out, because I still haven’t remembered to breathe, blink, or do any of those important things for the last few minutes.
“Oh, OK.” Pause. “Um…you aren’t going to freak out, are you?”
I smile a little. “I’m trying not to.”
He laughs, and I feel like I’m going to faint. “OK. Oh yeah, and call me Alex.”
“OK.” So now I’m on a first-name basis with a superstar. Unbelievable.
I’m too freaked-out to talk to him for much of the flight. But after the inflight movie, Analyze This, there’s a bunch of little shorts and news things and other weird stuff. One of the shorts is an old episode of Seinfeld. I love that show. Plus it’s a really funny episode, the one where Elaine tries to open up the muffin-top bakery, Top Of The Muffin To You.
I’m laughing all the way through the show. I glance over at AJ --- uh, I mean Alex --- a few times, and he’s cracking up too. I didn’t know he liked Seinfeld. Huh.
When it’s over, I turn to Alex and say, “I always liked that one.”
“It’s a pretty good one,” he admits. “But I still think the Puerto Rico Day episode’s funny. Where Kramer sets the flag on fire in Jerry’s car…”
I laugh. “Oh God! That one was classic. And the contest…see, I was a little kid when that one first aired, but I saw it when Seinfeld went into reruns back in Atlanta. That one’s probably my favorite.” I slam an imaginary pile of money down on the tray table. “‘I’m out!’” I burst out laughing again.
We talk about Seinfeld for a while before the conversation shifts to, you know, the typical stuff: school, life in general, small talk.
“So anyway, I’m going to LA so I can see my boyfriend,” I tell Alex after who-knows-how-much small talk. “He’s going to UCLA, and he just kinda moved out there. What about you? You got family out there?”
“Sort of. Our managers wanted to see us, and the other fellas sent me to represent so they wouldn’t all have to go.” He grins wickedly. “Not a good idea.”
I don’t want to know. So I say, “Well, maybe they should have all gone.”
“Nah, Nick would have jumped out the window by now. He’s not a big fan of airplanes. So, what’s this boyfriend of yours like?”
I shrug. “He’s…he’s a sweetheart, he’s funny, he’s brilliant…I love him. That’s pretty much all there is to it.”
“Does he treat you well?”
I’m shocked. How dare he ask me that? That sounds like something my mom would say. And besides, my mom’s known me for 18 years. This guy’s known me for four or five hours. “What a thing to say!”
“Well, it’s just a question!”
“Well…yeah. I wouldn’t love him if he didn’t treat me right. How can you ask someone you’ve just met something like that?” I demand.
“I’m sorry.”
He sounds sorry enough, so I say, “It’s all right. Don’t worry.”
After a few minutes, we start talking again. Before long, the captain comes over the PA and tells us that we’re making our final approach to LAX. I can’t believe the flight’s almost over. I guess time flies when you’re having fun.
“So…it’s been real,” Alex says to me.
“Yeah, it’s been fun,” I reply, smiling. “Can I ask just one thing, though?” I reach in my backpack and pull out the Polaroid I vowed to carry around with me this summer. “Can I have a picture?”
“OK.” So I take a picture of us, all grinning with our arms around each other, and he signs it when it develops.
“It’s been nice meeting you, Lauren,” he tells me as he stands up to get off the plane at the gate. I’m gonna wait a minute before I get off the plane, so that I don’t get harassed by any fans that might possibly be waiting for him.
“Yeah, nice to meet you, too.”
He leans down and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek befroe he walks up the aisle and off the plane with his stuff. I’m just standing there, surprised that anything that’s happened in the last six hours is reality.
When I get off the plane, I see Dave waiting there for me. He looks f-i-n-e. Better than ever. It could just be because it’s been so long since I’ve seen him. But I doubt it.
“God, I’m glad to see you, baby,” he tells me as he wraps me up in a big hug and kisses me. “How was your flight?”
Even though I’m happy to see him, I can’t help but think back on the incredible time I’ve had today. “Dave, honey, it was unbelievable.”