Prologue
I bit my lip, like I often do when I get nervous, as my eyes scanned the airport list of "Departure" flights. I've only flown by myself once before for a fun little New Years' vacation with my now ex-boyfriend's family. Never did I think I would be flying by myself again. However, this reason is just a little different.
"Flight 1077," I said to myself once I finally found the words that will take me across the country after what seemed like an eternity. Will they ever make these things easier to read?
Oh good. It's on time. I found my gate number, gathered the carry-on luggage that I hadn't checked, put in my headphones, and made my way across the terminal.
I had only graduated from the University of Florida a mere 3 months ago. Now, here I am (much to my mother's dismay), about to be completely on my own in a state where no one in my family had ever dreamed of living in.
Except me.
Hi, I'm Callie. Yes, like the state. 22. Florida native, born and raised. This is my story.
The story about the time I moved to Los Angeles and met Ross Lynch.
Chapter 1
"And did you remember to pack all of your pills?"
"Yes, mom," I respond on my iPhone, with a tiny hint of annoyance in my voice. She's only been reminding me to pack these things for the last, I don't know, 15 years?
"Ok, and what about your-"
"Flight 1077 to Los Angeles, California, now boarding," the overhead, monotone speaker announced to all of TIA.
"Oh! Mom we're about to board. Love you! Text you when we land," I quickly blurt out and hang up the phone. Perfect timing. I shove my phone in my purse and start to get up from my seat that I've gotten to know pretty well, considering my flight actually got delayed for 2 hours.
I tuck a strand of my brunette hair behind my ears as I tried to extend the handle of my carry on…and of course it gets jammed.
"This…stupid…thing…" I said to myself as I struggled to click the button on the handle, apparently not as quiet as I thought I was.
"You look like you could use some help there!" A friendly voice said behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and saw a girl, seemingly about my age, with the most beautiful, long, dirty blonde hair I had ever seen.
"Was I being a little too obvious?" I said to the girl, my cheeks getting hot, a normal sign of embarrassment.
The blonde girl gave a small giggle. "I travel all of the time, I'm definitely used to those stubborn luggage bags. I swear they have a mind of their own," she smiled. "May I?" She extended her right arm out towards me. I noticed she had quite a few Alex and Ani bracelets jingling from her wrist.
"Sure, I guess, but I don't know how you're going to-"
The girl took my carry on from my hand, leaned it on its wheels, gave it one tiny swift kick, jostled the handle, and extended the arm just fine.
"Ok, you're definitely going to have to teach me that," I said as I looked at her in amazement. She smiled.
"I'm Avia," she responded. "Are you on this flight?"
"Callie," I shook her hand with a smile. "Yeah, flight 1077 to good ol' Los Angeles, California!"
"Your name is Callie and you're going to Cali, how ironic!" Avia giggled.
"Wow, I didn't realize how lame that actually sounded out loud," I teased. "I guess I'm going to be getting that a lot since I'm moving out there and-"
"Stop. You're moving to Los Angeles?" Avia interrupted. She looked at me with a more serious look than I had anticipated from a bubbly girl like herself.
"Um…yeah? Is that bad?" I questioned, trying to hide the worried tone of voice. Great. She's going to tell me how awful LA is and how I'm ruining my life by living in such a highly populated city with traffic that I'm still trying to mentally prepare myself for.
"That's where I live and you just made my entire day. I have a new friend!" Avia smiled widely, her perfectly white teeth complimenting her flawless tan. What the heck. Hopefully a few months in LA will let me look as tan as her. "We're sitting together on the plane, you have no choice," she said as she linked her arm into mine. "I have so much to tell you!"
We pulled our carry ons with us through the line of people with boarding passes, creating small talk about how fabulous LA is along the way. We handed our passes to the attendant.
"Have a nice flight, ladies," she smiled at the two of us.
Avia and I gave her a quick smile and headed down the walkway to the plane. I started to walk into the plane's opening when I felt a sharp tug on my arm.
"Uh, what do you think you're doing?" Avia looked at me like I had just grown another head on my shoulder.
"Um…I'm…getting on the plane?" I said as I shifted my eyes to the flight attendant, then back at Avia.
"Not before you touch the outside of the plane, silly. It's good luck, duh" She explained to me as she demonstrated patting her hand on the outside of the plane's door. "Just give it a few more flights, you'll be a pro at this!"
I took my hand, patted the outside of the plane, and looked back at Avia. She nodded her head proudly, as if she had just shown me the meaning of life or something.
"That's my girl!" Avia smiled.
We walked down the aisle of the plane until we were about midway and decided to sit there, since there were no assigned seats. "Now, I usually always take the window seat, but this is your inaugural 'first time I'm flying to my new home' flight and you need to see the gorgeous view, so I guess I can let you have it this time," Avia explained as she lifted her carry on into the overhead compartment with ease. Since she was so good at it, I handed my luggage to her and she lifted it up and put it snugly next to hers.
I scooted to the window and took my seat, fastening my seatbelt as I looked outside. Who knows when the next time I'll be back in Tampa is.
To get to LAX from Tampa International Airport takes approximately 4 hours and 50 minutes on a nonstop flight. Avia had been telling me some details about herself, and I had told her some things about myself to occupy the time. She has an older brother, Cody, who taught her how to surf, and she competes pretty regularly (which explains the tan…did I mention its perfect?). I made her promise to teach me, once I get settled into my new apartment, and my new surroundings, of course.
"So, what brought you across the country to Tampa?" I asked Avia.
"Well, my parents are actually divorced. I fly down to Tampa to see my mom and her boyfriend once every 3 months or so. I live in the city with my brother, and my dad lives about an hour away from us in Malibu. We're a pretty big surfing family, so we definitely visit my dad often on the weekends to catch some waves."
"I'm seriously holding you to that offer about teaching me to surf, don't forget," I reminded Avia. It's always been a dream of mine to surf, and Gulf of Mexico waves aren't exactly "shred" worthy.
"Oh, no way am I forgetting! You have to see me compete too, I'm pretty awesome," Avia smirked. She had been flipping through a Seventeen magazine for the last 30 minutes. She landed on a page with a photoshoot of some celebrities I had grown to love over the last several years.
"Oh my gosh is that an article about R5?! Let me see, let me see!" I squealed as I snatched the magazine from Avia's hand. I was mesmerized at the article before my thoughts were interrupted by my friend laughing, obviously at me.
"You know, you're gonna have to learn to control those urges when you get to LA, hot stuff. I see R5 all the time out and about and there's no way-"
"Wait," I held my hand up to signal her to stop talking so I could process this information she just told me. "You…SEE R5? Just like…walking around? They do that?"
Avia rolled her eyes and laughed. "You DO know where you're moving to, right? Celebrities are all over LA, genius."
It took me a lot longer than I thought it would to process all of this. How did it completely slip my mind that I would regularly be seeing celebrities? Just walking around? Grabbing coffee? At the beach? And what, I'm just supposed to breathe regularly when I see them?
"Avia, you don't understand. I literally have 11 celebrity husbands. I'm a huge teeny bopper, it's actually embarrassing."
"Well, see, now you're obligated to tell me this list of imaginative husbands that in no way could ever be your actual husbands," Avia giggled.
Even though I know I'm never going to marry any of them, it still stung a bit when she said that. A girl can dream, can't she? I held up my fingers, counting all of my husbands once I said their name.
"We've got Nick Jonas, Joe Jonas, Zac Efron, Taylor Lautner, Darren Criss, Joey Richter, Ryan Reynolds-"
"You do know that Ryan Reynolds is married right-" Avia interrupted.
I quickly cut her off. "Not important," I spat out. "Joe Walker, Nathan Kress, James Maslow, and of course," I paused for a dramatic effect, "the one and only, Ross Lynch," I sighed as I looked down at his picture in the magazine.
"Callie, isn't he like, 15?" Avia asked.
"He's almost 20, actually," I said in a matter-of-fact tone, "and I'm 22, that's only a couple of years, not a big deal," I explained, having to have defended myself on this topic once or twice before already.
"Whatever you say, sweetie," Avia smiled. She thought it was cool how I was into all these celebrities and how I didn't care what other people may think. But she still didn't have any idea how I would survive in LA.
"Do you think I will ever run into Ross?" I honestly asked my new friend.
"Anything is possible if you just believe," Avia said in a dreamy voice.
I smiled and rolled my eyes at her. I looked back down at her magazine. Yeah, right. LA is huge. Like I would ever run into Ross Lynch.
"Ladies and gentlemen, notice the 'Fasten your seatbelt' sign is now on. Please, return to your seats, we are now beginning our descent. Welcome to Los Angeles," the flight attendant said through the cabin speakers.
Welcome to Los Angeles, I thought to myself. I don't think I could ever get tired of that phrase.
