He wouldn’t let go. Or look at me. He just tossed his black hoodie over our hands and chatted to the guy in the next seat like I wasn’t here. My heart pounded in my ears, drowning out the music from my earbuds, and I had to force my breathing to slow down. I closed my eyes and turned toward the window. Why was he doing this? And why was I just sitting here? The warmth from his strong fingers seeped into mine as he held me, and I looked over at him again, seeing him slouched in the seat, long legs stretched into the aisle as the players, cheerleaders, and band carried on around us.
