novelxo Passenger Princess: Chapter 7
Harper sits on the loveseat in my bedroom, filing her nails, while Jules lies on my bed, head in her hands, watching me frantically try to fit three months’ worth of clothes into two giant suitcases. Unfortunately, the pile is looking like there’s no way it’s not going to take up at least three. I still need hair and body products, pajamas, workout clothes, underwear, makeup…and shoes.
“Oh my god, I’m so fucked,” I say, looking at the mess scattered around us. “How am I going to bring all of my clothes?”
Harper sighs, putting her nail file on the side table and standing. “You’re not. This new collection means you just need the bare minimum, and we can add accessories. Each is double-sided, so there are really two items in each. And these tops”—she lifts two tops with multiple straps and ties—“can be worn a thousand ways and never look the same. I’ve sent you a document with what to wear at each stop. Based on what I prepared, you only need four pairs of shoes and a pair of sneakers.”
My anxiety melts.
“I could kiss you,” I say with a sigh of relief. “Can you help make sure I pack the right things?” She rolls her eyes, and I smile when she starts lifting and folding, acting like it’s an inconvenience, but really, her type A personality means she secretly loves this shit.
“So your bodyguard is that hot guy from the club?” Jules asks, picking up the nail file and rounding out her own nails.
“If by hot guy you mean the grumpy asshole, then yeah. And he can’t stand me because he thinks I’m some self-centered princess.”
“Well…” Harper starts, but I throw a bra at her, making her laugh right before promptly folding and packing it.
“Nothing out of you,” I say.
Tomorrow is the very first event at the Atlantic City Boardwalk. Even though I’ll be spending one last night in my bed tomorrow night, I won’t be getting back until late and leaving super early, so I have to pack tonight, hence the chaos.
“I don’t know, I feel like I could get over him thinking I was spoiled if he looked like that,” Jules says.
“What?”
She turns her phone, and shows me a photo of Jaime, arms crossed on his chest, glaring at the camera. I grab it and see it’s from the Five Star Security website.
It’s absolutely unfair to look that good and be in that bad of a mood all the time.
“Grumpy or not, I bet he’d be absolutely amazing in bed,” Jules says like she’s reading my mind. I shrug, handing her phone back even though I want to continue to stare at that screen indefinitely.
“I bet he would,” I say with a smile.
“You know, if this was a movie—” Jules starts, her common refrain, before Harper cuts her off.
“Jules, no. This is not a movie, this is reality.” Harper glares at me, pausing her packing. “Ava, you’re not allowed to date.”
I scrunch up my face in faux confusion. “You know, it’s so funny, because I don’t remember saying anything about dating that man.”
Jules lets out another laugh before fist-pumping the air. “Yes! I say you fuck him into a good mood.”
“Jules! We’re supposed to be the voice of reason,” Harper chides, folding up a skirt. She’s used to our antics, though.
“I think I’m being reasonable! Sexual tension is bound to build the way sparks flew between you two.”
I think about how he looked down at me in the office, the tiniest hint of a smile on his lips, just a few inches between us. The way his eyes moved to my lips before they shifted to my eyes. His quiet “Get home safe, princess” the night at the club.
Obviously, I’m reading too far into things, tearing apart tiny moments in time that don’t actually matter in the big picture.
“If by sexual tension you mean he’d like to leave me on a deserted island and never see me again, yes.”
“Bullshit. Everyone loves you, Ava. You win literally everyone over. Why would he be any different?”
”Well, for one, I think he hates me.”
“Bullshit,” Jules says with a laugh, not believing me in the least. Fair, since I’m definitely exaggerating but…
“Okay, at the very least, he hates that he doesn’t hate me.” I shrug with a small smile playing on my lips, remembering the last words I said to him. “Maybe he hates that he wants into my pants.”
Silence takes over as Jules and Harper mull that over before Jules speaks with a shrug. “I mean, maybe, but we can work with that.”
“Jules!” I say with a laugh, throwing a makeup brush at her now.
“I’m just saying!”
We both continue in fits of giggles before it dies down and Harper, the logical one of us, speaks.
“Can I just ask why he would even hate you?” Harper asks, as confused as I feel. “He doesn’t even know you. “
“I don’t think he hates me, per se,” I say, suddenly feeling like I have to come to his defense. “I just think he wants to do his job. He values…keeping the lines clear. He’s very professional, and there was tension between him and his boss. I don’t know. I think he just wants to do his job and move on.”
Jules snorts. “Then I wish him all the best, having to deal with you for three months.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I ask, throwing a pair of socks at her head.
She tucks it into my suitcase without even wavering before answering. “It means the lengths you will go to make someone your best friend are extreme.”
“Who, me?” I ask, hiding a smile.
They’re not wrong. But is it really a crime to want people to like you?
“Fine, it’s not that I want everyone to like me. I simply love proving people wrong. Just because I look like an airhead doesn’t mean I am one.”
“Well…” Harper says.
“Shut up, you guys are the worst,” I say with a laugh, and Harper laughs too. Taking another sip of my drink, I place it on the bedside table and fall back onto my bed with a groan. “I mean, why do I even need a bodyguard? Isn’t that a bit of overkill? It’s not like I’m a political figure or anyone important. I know they want to keep an eye on me, but can’t anyone do that? I’m not Willa Stone or something, needing a security team.”
Harper and Jules take that moment to exchange a look, one I’m very familiar with. It’s the do you want to tell our sweet, delusional friend the truth, or should I?
Jules takes the lead this time.
“Honey, have you seen your messages on social media?”
I roll my eyes. “Oh my god, please. It’s just idiots with more time than brain cells to rub together.”
“Ava, you’ve had to file no less than six police reports in the last four months.”
I groan, putting my head in my hands. “It’s not that serious!”
“Ava,” they say in unison, giving me a be-so-real look before I sigh.
Okay, so there was the guy who tried to get into the Miss Americana dress rehearsal, proclaiming he loved me and that we were meant to be together. It was a little weird, but he didn’t even get past the entrance of the building. I didn’t even see him.
And yeah, I’ve had a handful of weird messages on various social media platforms, but doesn’t everyone? Jules and Harper have to deal with those, too, and all of the other Miss Americana contestants get them, too. They’re harmless. Any messages that contain anything particularly alarming gets reported to the proper authorities, but that’s just for a paper trail.
Just in case.
“I hate being under a microscope even more than I already am. I wish I could bring one of you and have you as my bodyguard. Then I’d at least have someone in my corner.”
For the first time since the meeting, I let the reality of everything crash into me: Regina and Anne’s apparent goal to kick me out, Jaime’s irritation with having to follow me around, the idea that this dream is slowly turning less and less enticing. “What if all of this is just a waste of my time? What if I’m miserable the whole time?”
A long beat passes where neither of us speaks, making me nervous.
“You could just quit, you know,” Harper says, finally breaking the silence.
“What?” My head moves with her words, but when I look at my friend, her smile is soft, her hand reaching out to pat my leg. Looking at Jules, there’s a similar expression on her face.
“You could quit. It wouldn’t hurt Jules and me—what you’ve done for us, Ava, it’s…it’s been amazing. Life-changing. We’ll never be able to properly thank—”
“I don’t want a thank you, you know that. It was fun. It was…an adventure. And this trip is going to be an adventure, too.” Harper smiles at Jules like they knew this was the decision I’d make. “I’m not letting these dumb bitches scare me out of this trip of a lifetime.”
I sit up, pulling out of the momentary pity party with a smile. “I won fair and square; I played by the same rules they all did; just because whoever they thought would win didn’t, doesn’t mean I didn’t earn this.”
“There’s our girl,” Jules says, clapping. “Don’t let those assholes win. You’re going to have an amazing time no matter what.’ She sits up, smiling at me. “Okay, so let’s talk about all the fun souvenirs you’re going to bring us home.’