"Please explain to me why you let him leave again!" Nina asked for possibly the hundredth time. "It's like the perfect love story. He drove all through the day and night to be with you. Just for one night?!"

"The timing just isn't right yet," I told her again. I picked up the art history book I needed off of the campus bookstore shelf. $250. Fuck…I'll have to find the PDF online or something. "He still has some things to take care of and so do I."

"Nada más! You two are perfect for each other and always have been. The fact that you broke up in the first place is criminal."

"Can we stop talking about Paul please?" I asked.

Nina draped herself over the bookshelf dramatically. "Tell me again how he swept you up in that kiss."

"You're obsessed," I laughed.

"And you're not?!"

I was. I had been thinking about that kiss for weeks. His hands on me. The way he growled before grabbing me. Every single pass of his tongue. The way he grabbed my hips and made me grind on his… Jesus fucking Christ. Get a grip.

"Are you going to call him?" Nina asked, excitement all over her face.

I shook my head adamantly. "No," I said. "Not yet."

Nina groaned. "Why not?"

"I just have a couple more things to figure out first. I don't need him to be in my mess just like how he doesn't need me to be in his."

"But he said—" she started and I already knew what she was going to say. So I said it with her, mocking her dreamy tone. "The next time I see you, I'm not letting you go."

"I believe him," I told her. "I really do."

As hard as it was to wake up without Paul, I felt refreshed somehow from his visit. There wasn't this looming doom over my head; I could focus on something other than what was wrong. I think a chapter closed for us, but not in the way I was afraid of. I'd always thought that when you find closure with a person, that meant it was over forever. That's how it was with Sam…with Julian. Once it was closed, I knew that it would never be opened again. But with Paul, it felt like we were just closing something on a different version of ourselves. Like the newest editions were still being created, and maybe, just maybe, they would be even more right for each other than the last.

We weren't 12-year-old Leah and Paul anymore, or 15-year-old us, or even 18-year-old us. The games and the miscommunications—I was ready to put all of that in the past. Maybe we could start anew. How? I don't know. But the how doesn't matter as much as the why. We've always been so good together; I think we just need more time to grow up.

When someone's perfect for you, but the timing isn't right, you don't just let it go. You keep fighting for it. And for us, we'd fight until we couldn't anymore.

"When do you leave for Hawaii again?" Nina asked. "I'm about to buy my ticket to Miami to see my family. We can go to JFK together."

"Not until after midterms. Bex bought my ticket for Halloween weekend."

Nina set her books down on the checkout counter. "Perfect, we'll coordinate then." She smiled at me as she handed her credit card to the cashier. "This will be a drama free senior year."

"Knock on wood," I joked. As the cashier bagged up her books, I said a silent plea to god or the universe or whatever that it actually would be drama free.

We stopped by the coffee cart before our first class, because of course we did. We had both managed to start the day with both of our senior thesis credits, which meant that we would meet our thesis advisors for like a week and then be almost completely free for the rest of the semester.

"How is it going to be with Julian as your advisor still?" Nina asked. "Have you even seen him since…you know?"

I rolled my eyes. "God no. I'm going to avoid him as much as I can, for as long as I can." I paid the coffee cart guy and thanked him. "Thankfully, he doesn't need to be my thesis advisor. I've already picked Harwood and she is completely on board."

"Sounds like you've got it all figured out then, mama."

"You know me. Always thinking, always working."

"Well, make sure you work some food into your day," she said, booping me on the nose. "I'm meeting with Dr. Eden to talk about my topic in like 10 minutes and then I'll be in the library. Meet me there."

"Crush it, babe," I gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. When we went our separate ways, I couldn't stop smiling. It really was the beginning of a new era. Bring on senior year.

XXXXXXXXX

"It seems like you have a good head on your shoulders, Miss Clearwater," Dr. Harwood said as she closed my thesis folder. "I very rarely meet a senior who's already narrowed down their topic this early on. It's impressive."

"Thank you," I grinned.

"Why did you choose Emily Carr to study?"

"I really wanted to stay in Modernism. And I believe we covered Emily very briefly in our Expressionism unit. I obviously have a personal, expressed interest in the way she captured Indigenous peoples in the Pacific Northwest Coast. So it's two loves for me: getting a taste of my people and our home through someone else's eyes, and studying art." I explained.

Dr. Harwood was the most sought after thesis advisor for the art history department. She'd been the head of the art department at Harvard for like 10 years or something before she decided that she wanted to come back to New York. I have no idea how I managed to get her as my advisor and I'm not questioning it. "Very nice," she nodded. She wrote something down, pushing her glasses up on her face. She was a serious one. "I think we can get you a head start on your source material," she said as she stood. "Come."

I scrambled to grab my bags and my notebooks as we started down the hall.

"You'll need create your schedule for the next 15 weeks. Write this down. You'll need at least 2 weeks to find your source materials, 4 for research, 2 for each chapter—you'll write at least 3 chapters, not including your introduction and conclusion—, and at least a week for revisions and review. We'll meet once a week to talk about your progression. How does that sound?"

Fucking impossible. "Completely doable," I said instead. "Where are we going?"

"Professor Gerard has the best collection of Modernism text on campus. You know Professor Gerard, right?" she asked, cutting the corner.

Fuck. "He's my academic advisor," I told her.

"Great! Then you're comfortable," she commented as she approached his office door. You could say that…I thought. She knocked before I could even answer her.

Dr. Harwood walked into Julian's office with so much authority that I almost almost didn't feel like I wanted to throw up from seeing his face. He was sitting with a student, and, on the surface, you would think it was just another office hours meeting. But I've known Julian long enough to know that the only way he was sitting on his desk in front of this 20 year old, conventionally attractive, blonde haired, blue eyed girl with his arms crossed let me know that I wasn't the only student he was probably fucking at one time. "Tara," he said with a pleasant surprise in his voice. Then he saw me. "And Leah Clearwater. To what do I owe the occasion?"

"Sorry, Julian, I didn't realize you were with a student," Dr. Harwood said. "Leah and I just had our first senior thesis meeting and I told her you would be a great resource to have for literature and source material. She's doing Modernism—Emily Carr, to be specific."

He smirked. Soulless asshole. "Happy to be of service, of course."

"Of course…" I muttered under my breath.

Dr. Harwood clapped her hands once and smiled. "Excellent. Leah, get on my calendar next week so we can check in. And good luck."

And she walked away. She left me with Julian and this fresh looking Sophomore. "Can you excuse us for just a second? You can wait in the hall," he said to the student.

She nodded as she stood, trying to maintain eye contact with him. She glared at me on her way out. Once the door was closed, I felt the energy shift in the air. "Old habits die hard?" I quipped as I leaned on the door.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Tell that to the bulge in your pants, Julian."

"Why are you here, Leah?"

"Clearly, this wasn't my idea," I rolled my eyes. "I actually don't need anything from you. I'd rather find my research in the library anyway. I'm gonna go."

When I went to open the door, his hand slammed it shut again. I could feel his breath of my neck. He smelled like cigars and his morning coffee. Black with one pump of French vanilla. "Don't you run off so fast," he said, lowering his tone. "We have some unfinished business, don't we?"

"It feels very finished to me," I gritted. My hand was gripping the doorknob. The second he pulls away, I'm out of here.

"You left Montauk in such a hurry," he said. He placed his nose into my hair and breathed in. But it was almost like he was trying to sniff out if I was still his. "You know how I feel about that."

"You didn't seem too bothered."

"Only because I know where to find you."

"You're disgusting." I tried to shove him away again, but somehow ended up facing him instead.

Julian looked me up and down with a raised eyebrow. I was realizing in that moment how cold his eyes were. How impersonal his touches were. It was almost violating. He pushed the hair away from my shoulder. "What's gotten into you? You're not yourself."

"Actually, I feel more myself than ever," I told him. "And, for the record, I always find you disgusting. Let me leave."

I tried to open the door again, but he kept a strong hand on it. He was losing patience, but trying to keep his chill façade. He flashed an unimpressed—and unimpressive—smile. "I can't do that." He shrugged.

"And why not?"

"Do you have something that belongs to me, Miss Clearwater?" he asked.

"What are you talking about?" Duh, of course I knew what he was talking about.

"All of my memory cards mysteriously disappeared right around the same time you did. I need them back."

"I didn't take your memory cards," I said, pushing him away from me. "Although, I do love the irony that you feel that something was stolen from you the same night you stole from me. Karma's a bitch."

His nostrils flared and his jaw clenched. "I need those memory cards."

"There were 50 people in the house that night, Julian. Why are you bothering me about it?"

"Maybe you're still upset."

"Maybe you're projecting."

"If you give them back now, it can be no harm, no foul. We can walk away clean from all of it." Julian held out his hand for me to shake like he did my first time in his office. The way he still saw me as a naïve little 18 year old made me sick. I bet he looks at all the students he picks that way. "It's not a question, Miss Clearwater."

I looked down at his open hand again then up at his dark eyes. Smirking, I reached up and caressed his cheek. "I like watching you squirm," I said before patting his cheek hard. He was stunned just enough for me to get the door open. "Good luck, though."

I could hear him say behind me, just low enough for no one to hear. "Whenever you come to your senses, I'll have an open door and open arms for you."

I rolled my eyes in disgust as I shut the door. His student was still standing outside the door, her face ghostly white. "What's your name?" I asked.

"Ali," she answered. She almost sounded scared.

"Ali," I repeated as I put a hand on her shoulder. "Do yourself a favor. Run."

XXXXXXXXX

They were still sitting in my camera bag. Whatever he was afraid of had been in the back corner of my closet since the summer. And it was tempting to figure out what he was hiding.

It took talking to Nina to figure out that it wasn't the shoot photos that he was begging for. "I'm telling you, mama, he probably re-did the whole shoot. There must be something else on those cards that he wants back. I can guarantee that," she'd said.

I was sitting at my desk, trying to focus on my research. It was damn near impossible. Every couple of seconds, my eyes would drift to my closet out of curiosity. No. I'm not sinking to his level. If anything, I should destroy them. No body, no crime, right?

I let out a big sigh before putting my headphones over my ears so I could focus. It's not worth it. If you look at those photos, you will open Pandora's box.

"Shit…" I whispered before taking my headphones back off and walking over to my closet. Then I stopped myself. "Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope."

I walked across the apartment to Nina's room and knocked quietly. "Come on in, mama!" she called. Nina was reading in bed. She always kept her room so warm and cozy. I leaned against her doorframe. "What's up?"

"I need you to talk me out of looking at those memory cards," I said.

She shook her head. "I am not the right person to do that," she laughed. "I wanna know what's on them too."

I pursed my lips as I thought about it. My foot tapped as temptation ran through my whole body. "How much am I risking the wrath of Julian Gerard if I snoop through his things?"

"No more than you already are," she shrugged. "Is it worth it to you?"

I didn't want it to be. I didn't want to stoop down to his level anymore. I wanted to be better for myself and for whatever future I had with Paul. If Paul was here, he'd shake his head and say, "Don't open that door if you're not ready to step through it, Clearwater."

I shook my head. "It's not worth it."

Nina shrugged. "Then I'd get rid of them for your own sanity."

"You're right." I knew she was; I think I just needed someone to say it. I groaned as I climbed into bed next to her. "Can we be roommates for the rest of forever?"

"Of course, babe," she said, snuggling with me. "You can't get rid of me now."

My phone vibrated in my pocket but I couldn't be bothered to look at it. Nina and I had been talking about after graduation lately. She told me she was thinking about going out West and she wanted me to come with her. California.

The idea was tempting. I may have already looked at apartments on Zillow…

When my phone vibrated again, I finally checked it to see a text from Adriana. I hadn't talked to her in weeks. Where are the memory cards? was all it said.

Nina looked over my shoulder, away from her book. "Is she serious?" she snorted. I texted back what memory cards?

She replied immediately: don't bullshit me, Leah. Give them back. I mean it.

Sorry, I can't help you

Look, I'm sorry about what happened. It is what it is. I told you you had to play the game and I meant it, but not like this. Pls just don't do this to me.

Nina and I looked at each other in shock and awe. And we shot up to go get my camera bag. I sat at my desk while Nina grabbed a kitchen chair to sit next to me. There were like 15 memory cards that Bex took from Julian's condo. And they were all labeled with letters in red sharpie. Except for two, which I recognized as the cards I used for the siren shoot.

There was an E, a P, an A, an L, and an M. Among many others. "A as in Adriana…?" Nina mused.

One way to find out. When I put the memory card in my laptop, I was mostly just expecting more model portraits of Adriana. She and Julian had been working together for years; it only made sense. The photos started off normal. There were some outtakes from the boudoir shoot, headshots in black and white and in color, candid shots of Adriana being her most outward facing self with her signature red on. What I didn't expect was…how can I say this? Well…for lack of a better word…I didn't expect…

Porn.

It started out as just a series of strip tease pictures in Julian's apartment. I recognized that set up; he had a drop cloth and lights on the lower level of his loft for his commission pieces. So he says. But as we saw picture after picture of a younger Adriana crawling closer to the camera until she was sitting on her knees in front of him. Unbuckling his belt. And putting his dick in her mouth. "Holy shit," Nina gasped.

That's not even counting the endless videos of Julian and Adriana fucking in various places. In the loft, in Central Park, on the beach, in his house upstate. Doggy style, reverse cowgirl style, missionary…you get it. I had to give him credit where it was due though; the shots were still amazing when they weren't just a straight up focus on her vagina.

"Well…now we know why they want them back so bad," I mumbled. "Are all of these…?"

"Places your bets now. I'm guessing yes," Nina said. "What are you going to do?"

It was a good question. I had no idea.

I waited until Nina went to bed to finally look at the L card. L as in Leah? I was hoping that wasn't the case, but I wasn't feeling confident. It was worse than I thought.

And so much better than I thought.

XXXXXXXXX

There were two schools of thought while I danced my way back to Professor Gerard's office a few days later.

The first was that I was surprised at how well I was feeling after finding Julian's dirty secret.

And the second was…what was I going to do with this information? It was just enough for both Julian and Adriana to walk away from me forever. But I didn't want him taking advantage of anyone else.

His office door was wide open and he was sitting at his desk with a large coffee in front of him. He was still as put together as he always was, but he looked like he hadn't slept all night. "Yikes," I joked. "Looks like you need a bigger coffee than that."

Julian looked up at me with surprise in his eyes. "I need it in a vat, if I'm being honest," he quipped back. "Can I help you with something?"

I shrugged. "I just wanted to see how you were doing after our little talk the other day. I was almost feeling like I needed to apologize."

"And the real reason you're here?"

I tried not to laugh. "Just to chat, Julian. Like old times."

He took a sip of his coffee without breaking eye contact. "Close the door behind you," he ordered.

I stepped into his office and I felt like I was seeing it in a new light. This place that had, at one point or another, been something of a safe space for me to grieve was nothing but bookshelves and frames. Even the art didn't feel meaningful anymore.

Apparently, I took too long to get settled the way we used to. Julian put his hands on my hips and spun me around, crashing his lips to mine. I made a noise of surprise before pushing him away. "What do you think you're doing?" I asked.

"I thought you were here—,"

"To talk. I said talk."

Letting him think he still had some kind of power over me was hard. I couldn't believe at any point that I'd let this person touch me. Especially knowing what I know now. So I sat down in the chair in front of his desk and watched as he settled himself in front of me. Like he had with me and so many of his other students before and after me. "So let's talk then," he said, crossing his arms.

I studied him so a second. "I just want to know why you did it," I said. "Why would you invite me out and tell me that you'll give me a co-directing credit if that's not what you were planning on doing? Why introduce me to all of your art friends if you were just going to steal my work?"

"Steal," he repeated. "That's a strong word."

"And that's not an answer."

"You know, Miss Clearwater. It's just the name of the game sometimes. If you would have waited, you would have known that I was going to pay you for the properties."

"I don't care about the properties; I care about my future. I thought you did too, but maybe I was mistaken."

"God, don't be so naïve, Leah," Julian rolled his eyes. "The only thing people care about is money and how to make it. Do you know how much bank we would have made with my name on the gallery instead of you—a nobody?"

I willed myself to be calm. "If I'm naïve, then you're pathetic. Don't think I didn't hear how much they were raving about how it was the best work they'd seen from 'you' in years. So what is it really? Are you washed up now? Julian Gerard doesn't hold as much weight as it used to? How sad for you."

"Watch your mouth, little girl," he said, getting really close to my face. "You could still have a future if you watch that smart mouth of yours."

We were almost nose to nose. But then I smiled and shook my head. "I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't come here to fight. I just needed to know and…I think I have my answer. And we can move forward from this…right?" I stood up to meet his eye face on. I rubbed his arms. "I'm sorry," I repeated.

It felt like an eternity, watching him watch me. Then the sly smile spread across his face. "I knew it was only a matter of time before you came to your senses," he said, pulling me by my waist. I chuckled darkly. "Come on, one last hoorah before you cross that stage. What do you say?"

I let him kiss me and had to swallow the bile boiling in my throat. His tongue was rough against mine as he whipped me around until I was trapped between him and his desk. He laid me down on the hard wood and unzipped my jeans. He slipped his hand in my jeans as quickly as he could. He was desperate for control that he no longer had over me. So, when he moved from my lips to my neck, I put fingers in his hair and gripped hard. Then I whispered in his ear, "Where are the cameras, Julian?"

Deer in headlights. Gotcha, bitch. "Is it like your secret kink?" I continued. "It obviously wasn't just me. I'm assuming the cameras were in the loft too. I know Adriana is down for a lot, but some of those moments looked so cozy and intimate. What about Emma or Parker or GiGi or Mia or Katie? I'm assuming they don't know either. I just can't tell if it's your shame or pride. Or if it's both."

When I opened the photos on the L card, it was like a blow to the face. It was all hidden camera photos and videos of me in his office and his apartment. None taken with my consent. I had never felt more violated. But once I realized that there was something I could do with this information, I felt better. I had willingly given myself to this man over and over again, I couldn't deny that. But when some violates your right to privacy for their own enjoyment, it's a whole other ballgame. He could have done anything with these photos. I'm glad I never have to figure out what he was going to do with them.

"So you did take my memory cards," he said, backing away from me.

"We are well past the memory cards, Julian. Keep up," I smirked as I hopped on his desk. "You know, it's crazy. I always had a suspicion that you and Adriana were fucking; I just couldn't prove it. Your girl is not good at masking when she's jealous. I mean, if looks could kill, Adriana would have a body count. Probably as high as yours."

"What do you want?" His face was tighter than I'd ever seen.

"I don't want anything," I said honestly. "I want both of you to leave me alone. Forever. I want for it to be like we have never met before. That's what I want."

"Nothing else?"

I shook my head. "I'll trust you to keep your mouth shut and I'll do the same. My name shouldn't exist to you anymore after today, unless I need you to sign off on something as my advisor. If I hear even a mutter of my name in any type of derogatory way, I don't mind sending a little tip to the president of the school just to show him what his staff has been up to. Do we have a deal?" It was my turn to hold my hand out to shake. Julian was white as a ghost as he held my eye and then looked down at my open hand. He hesitated. "Oh, or should I say…it's not a question."

His jaw clenched before he shook on it. I smiled before picking up my bag from the door. "Pleasure doing business with you," I said on my way out.

"So I just don't get my memory cards back?" he asked my back.

I looked over my shoulder and laughed. "Absolutely not."

XXXXXXXXX

I didn't keep them, if that's what you're thinking. I destroyed most of them, except for the one with my photos. No one deserved to have those kinds of pictures floating out in the world. So they went right down the garbage disposal.

And they never bothered me again. Were there times when I was worried about my future career now that I'd put my only real connection to the industry down the toilet? Of course. But Paul and Rachel were right, I wanted to do it my own way. I didn't need Julian or Adriana to make it.

In fact, something amazing happened on my way to Hawaii for fall break.

I gave Nina a tight hug before we parted ways. "I still have a couple of hours before boarding," I told her. "Please be safe getting to Miami. Call me the second you land."

"You're going to have the best time in Hawaii, mama," Nina gushed. "I'll see you in a couple of weeks!"

We pulled away and she made her way to her gate. "I love you!" I called.

"I love you too!" she called back, waving.

I ended up at the bar while I waited for my flight, armed with a magazine and a martini. I was reading about how to get a killer ass in 3 moves in Cosmo when someone sat next to me. "Dirty martini please?" the woman's voice said.

"Vermouth?" the bartender asked.

"Just a little, thanks. And a food menu please." The woman dug through her bag for a second to grab her phone. She texted for a little bit before I saw through my peripheral that she glanced at me. "Roar, lion, roar," she commented.

I glanced up at her. "I'm sorry?"

She pointed at my grey Columbia shirt. "You alum?"

"Graduating senior," I answered.

"Oh, very nice! Congratulations!" she smiled. She was a pretty woman. Jet black hair that fell at her waist and a dimple in her right cheek. Something about her was a little familiar but I couldn't put my finger on it. "I graduated from Columbia a few years ago. What's your major?"

"I'm on the art history/visual arts track," I told her, turning to face her. Her mouth dropped and told me that that was her major too when she was a student. "What? That's crazy! What are the odds? I'm Leah."

"I'm Gianna," she beamed, shaking my hand. "Or GiGi, whichever you prefer."

Oh.

GiGi was one of the students that Julian had taken advantage of. I remember seeing her photos, but felt myself getting sick when the videos started playing. She was so sweet though and so well put together. I couldn't help but notice her Louboutins and vintage Chanel bag. "So tell me about your plan after graduation. Who did you study under?"

I cringed a little. "Uh technically…Julian Gerard…" I waited for GiGi's face to react. And when it finally did, she just looked disgusted. "Yeah…I agree."

"Ugh, what a waste of space of a human," she waved off the thought of him before picking up her glass. "Trust me, once you're away from him, you will thrive."

"I'm really hoping you're right," I laughed pathetically.

She looked me up and down before nodding once. Gigi raised a hand. "Bartender! Two tequila shots and one of those margherita flatbreads to share." Then she turned back to me. "Let's grab a table and we can really chat."

It was like meeting what I wanted for myself but in like 5 years from now. GiGi was this totally confident, no nonsense type of girl who talked about art like it was how she breathed. She told me she moved to LA immediately after graduation and worked as an apprentice under this incredible art dealer who went on to help her establish her own client base.

She could have been like an older sister. She was just full of advice and little tidbits that made me feel like…not a failure. But I couldn't leave the conversation without addressing the elephant in the room. "GiGi," I started, "did you know anything about Julian and his secret cameras?"

Gigi took a long sip from her martini glass, her eyes low. She nodded slowly as she set the glass down. "I'd heard a rumor that Julian was into some weird shit, only after I'd left Columbia. I remember calling to ask him about it, but he's all about deny, deny, deny until he dies."

"I found them," I told her.

"The cameras?"

"The memory cards where he was hoarding dozens of photos and videos of girls over the years. It was enough to get him off my back, but I didn't have time to find the cameras. I destroyed the memory cards though. No one needs to see those ever."

"I wouldn't worry too much about it," she said. "He'll get what's coming to him ten times over."

I leaned forward. "What happened between you two?"

She picked at the food on her plate. "I'd met this girl who invited me to one of his photo shoots my sophomore year. And I kind of got swept up into their fantastical life before I really understood what it meant. And then once we started sleeping together, I knew I couldn't get out unscathed. So…as Julian says, I played the game. I kept his bed warm until he couldn't fail me. I was his eye candy to those stupid gala events. I met gallerist after gallerist, hoping that I could charm one of them enough so they would be on my side instead of his." She paused. "I got lucky to find someone who didn't fall for his elitist bullshit and she gave me a shot and a ticket to LA. I never looked back. I come to New York for business with private clients and then I go back to California."

I ran a hand through my hair as I took in her words. "It helps to hear that someone actually made it out," I said honestly. "I've been terrified that I'll need to go back to him to get my foot in the door."

GiGi shook her head emphatically. She grabbed my hand across the table. "Listen to me, Leah. Julian Gerard means nothing outside of his little bubble. Don't let him scare you."

"Easier said than done?"

"Absolutely," she nodded. "But it can be done. What do you want to do with your career?"

"I mean, I'd love to work in a gallery. I'm a photographer at heart, but I've loved helping people with their art so much. I think being a gallerist—or an art dealer, to use your words—would be a dream." I hoped I didn't sound desperate.

She smiled at me. GiGi leaned forward with her forearms resting on the table. "I think we were meant to meet today," she said before reaching into her purse. She pulled out a small business card and a pen. "Here's my personal cell number…" she wrote for a second, "and my Instagram. Give me a call as soon as you land back in New York. I'm putting together a team for this new project I'm working on in San Francisco. I'd like to see you on it."

I stared at her card, admiring the gold foil of her name. "Are you serious?" I breathed.

"I have an eye for talent," she winked. "And I'm a sucker for another soon-to-be Columbia alum."

"Oh my god, thank you so much, GiGi. This means so much to me."

"Now boarding flight 6216 to Los Angeles…" we heard over the intercom system.

GiGi downed the rest of her drink. "That's me," she sighed. "Seriously, call me when you get back. And good luck."

She leaned down to hug me and air kissed me on the cheek. "I definitely will," I told her. She grinned at me before she went to the bar to pay her tab. And then she left.

I took a second to take it all in with a big sigh. All hope was not lost. I felt like I was floating on cloud nine. While I gathered myself, I followed her on Instagram and went to post a picture of our dueling martinis. Caption: cheers to new friends

Sliding out of the booth, I grabbed my weekend bag and approached the bar. "Can I tab out?" I asked the bartender.

"You're good to go," he said. "You were tabbed out already by your friend."

My eyebrows flew up. "Oh! Ok…thanks so much." I dug into my purse for a $20 bill. "Here's a tip for you then."

I got onto the plane feeling giddy with excitement and admittedly a little drunk. I shrunk down in my window seat with my magazine and waited for the cue to turn my phone on airplane mode. Headphones in, cozy socks on, ready for vacation. And then, of course, there was this:

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