Fake It - OP

Chapter 25

Oscar booked first-class tickets.

First. Class.

I have never sat anywhere but the economy. Most of the time I was lucky even to get a window seat. But here I am, following my backpack that's strapped to Oscar's back. Because he had insisted on carrying it. Meanwhile, I was holding onto the outside of it like a toddler, not sure if I am actually meant to be following him into first class. My jaw is dropping further and further toward the floor the closer we get to our seats. Oscar turned back to me when he stopped. He was smiling ear to ear.

"Your seat madam." Oscar motioned dramatically to the, not seat, it was more like a single-person couch. I moved slowly, still not convinced I am meant to be here. Oscar chuckled. "Breathe Blake, your name's on the ticket."

I nodded and sat down. Immediately taking in the space around me, opening the table, looking in the different pockets and opening the window. Yes, that's right. Window seat. "This is so cool," I said, looking back up at Oscar, who was still lifting our bags into the above compartments. My suitcase was carry-on size because I didn't want to have to pay for a checked bag, but that meant it wasn't light. I do pride myself on being an expert packer. The downside of that though is that on the flight to Saudi I almost knocked myself out attempting to lift it overhead. Oscar lifted it like it weighed nothing. I watched him as he closed the hatch and turned to his seat. He was just opposite the aisle of me and huffed loudly in satisfaction when he collapsed into the cushions.

"I think you tired me out yesterday," Oscar said. Our seats were close enough to talk normally and hear each other just fine.

"Did I?"

He nodded. "I don't think I have ever walked so much in such little time."

I laughed. "You were the one that wanted the ice cream from the shop halfway across town."

"That was a mistake."

We both smiled. Oscar and I spent the day yesterday being tourists. Most of the media associated with the race left on Monday, so for the most part we were left alone. We ended up having lunch in the shade of a patio café and exploring some of the different sights. And the ice cream we bought, or I bought because I was tired of Oscar paying for absolutely everything, was delicious and definitely worth the hot desert trek for a few blocks.

"Since we'll be in Melbourne a few days early," Oscar said. He was now buckled up in his seat, and realizing I want really ready for takeoff I copied him while he continued. "I want to show you around."

I smiled at him. "I'd love that, just as long as you let me pay for some things."

Oscar scoffed. "Not a chance, that wasn't the deal."

"I have my own money."

"Yeah, and you can save it."

"I feel like a leach."

Oscar laughed. "Blake," Oscar looked at me. I could tell he was thinking. I was getting to know his different expressions better and better and his eyebrows always lowered when he was in thought. "How about I pay for all the things we do in Australia," he said. "And every other country because that was the deal." I started to protest but he lifted his finger and my jaw snapped shut. "And you pay for Canada?"

I thought about it for a second. I could do that, but that still seems pretty unfair.

"I don't know which maple syrup is the best, you'll have to buy it." Oscar was making fun of me.

"Dick."

He smiled and there was a pause before Oscar said "You aren't a leach. You cant be when I want you here"