This Side of Sunny

Chapter 1: Lost

SATURDAY

Mela flinched when her seatmate's hip bumped against hers.

It wouldn't have been an issue if the incident happened only once and if the guy would at least apologize to her. But ever since he'd plopped down beside her, instantly whipping out his iPad to play some lame-ass videogame that got him twitching and jerking excitedly in moments, he'd done the unwelcome hip-bumping with Mela at least three times in the last fifteen minutes.

Gritting her teeth, Mela yanked the backpack from her lap and squeezed it in that tiny gap between their hips, causing the stranger to pause his game, head swiveling toward her.From the backpack, his eyes traveled up to Mela, who met his gaze levelly. His look of surprise was quickly replaced by a slow-blossoming, interested smile as he looked her up and down. Ugh. Mela replied with dagger looks, prompting him to retreat an inch into his territory.

Basking in the small victory, Mela shifted into a more comfortable position and bumped shoulders with the elderly man sleeping beside her. The man stirred and mumbled something she couldn't understand. Mela momentarily froze in her seat, relaxing only after the grandfather rotated his neck with eyes still closed, and dropped his head forward, emitting a round of loud, raspy wheezing.

That's it. Mela quickly stood up, slung her backpack over her shoulders and stretched her arms over her head just as someone scurried over and plopped down on the spot she had just vacated. Mela didn't care. She couldn't stand spending one more second in that tiny, steel chair, separated by a hair's breadth from the other seats. No matter how long she parked herself in that chair, it still felt like she was sitting on a block of ice.

It also didn't help that she was still freezing from the almost eighteen hours she spent on her previous flight. The cold was trapped there, in between her skin and her clothes, refusing to leave like a pesky houseguest.

A fresh wave of passengers flooded the area and Mela felt her irritation swell. More people meant more skin to make accidental contact with. Quickly, she snaked her way out of the rows of seats, careful not to bump into more people than necessary.

After crossing the hallway, she ducked into the Wifi Lounge and mentally pumped her fists when she spotted a free solo couch at the corner. She settled into it, closing her eyes in pleasure as the plush seat adjusted to the contours of her body. Then she fished out her phone to check her mail. Her heart leapt into her throat when she saw a video message from Sean.

The video was on pause, waiting for her to press play. But she couldn't do that—not without lapping up the sight of him first. Eyes a shade of blue so vivid, they put to shame the piece of sky behind him. Hair cropped short with an inch of feathery-blonde hair trailing down his forehead. A strong, square jaw that Mela couldn't resist tracing with her forefinger on her phone screen. Her finger glided on the smooth glass but in real life, she knew his jaw would feel rough with stubbly hair that longed to defy the effects of his daily shaving.

Sean's mouth was pressed into a tight-lipped smile as if he was dying to let her in on a secret. Mela couldn't help smiling back at him before tapping on the right arrow icon.

Immediately, Sean sprang to life, broad shoulders flexed as he held the camera in front of him. His face broke out into a full-fledged smile just before he began talking.

Hey, Babe! Got here just fine. Still wish you changed your mind and joined me here. Take a load of this!

He spun the camera around, catching a horde of people on the beach lit up by the afternoon sun. In the distance, the sea managed to sparkle even with the volume of swimmers it held in its arms. When the camera finished its revolution, it ended again on Sean's face.

Panama City is insane! I think half of the teenage population is here.

His face sobered up then and he leaned closer to the camera, shadows his face.

Let me know when you get there, okay? Can't wait to see you next week. Whatever happens, I'm here for you.

He pulled back again, the sunshine back in his face.

Miss you! Love you!

He blew her a kiss and waved goodbye. The video stopped with Sean's face frozen into a half-grin, half-frown as he pressed the end button of his recording.

Mela felt a small, swift movement inside her chest, as if someone had pressed a trigger inside her, releasing a wave of homesickness so staggering, she had to blink back the sudden tears.

Whatever happens, I'm here for you, Sean had said.

Which meant that she was crazy to do this, to fly thousands of miles to fulfill a mission that had not one iota of success. Which meant that she was crazy for wanting to dig up a past that was probably better left untouched.

It was easy to feel safe because she was still in the airport, in between flights, the reality of being in another country not fully hitting her yet. Still, the truth was being force fed to her in small doses: the snatches of conversations around her that she couldn't understand, in a language that lilted and rolled its Rs, the narrow airport seats obviously meant for smaller frames than the ones back home, and her wallet now filled with unfamiliar-looking bills from the money exchange counter.

She ignored the mild panic rising up her throat. She had planned this trip for a year and now that she was here, she couldn't afford to chicken out. She too a deep breath, thinking that she'd reply to Sean later when she was feeling calmer. For now, she had to send an email.

Aunt Jane! Just got here in Florida and getting to Panama City in a while. Miss you lots.

A shadow fell on her phone and Mela looked up to see a girl, who looked all of thirteen, beaming at her. While waving a hot pink phone, the girl asked her a question, or at least it sounded like a question.

Mela knitted her eyebrows together. "I'm sorry?"

The girl's eyes widened and in an instant, switched to English. "Oh, my gosh! I'm sorry! I thought you were Maja Salvador. You look just like her, except that you have shorter hair."

Self-consciously, Mela's hand shot up to her wavy hair that fell midway down her neck. It was in that in-between stage—too short for a neat ponytail, and too long to be chic.

"Who?"

"Oh." The girl blushed furiously, her bronze cheeks turning a shade darker. "She's a famous actress here." She pushed her glasses up her nose and smiled hopefully. "Can I still have my picture taken with you? So I can tell my friends I bumped into her lookalike."

She said it so sweetly that Mela found herself letting the girl sidle up to her, holding the phone at arm's length above their heads. Almost instinctively, they pressed their cheeks together as they smiled up at the lens.

"Thanks." The girl showed her the picture and Mela was dismayed that the high angle had emphasized her ridiculous eye bags. "Have a safe flight!"

Mela waved back. "You too." She turned her attention back to the phone, curiosity urging her to google pictures of the actress. But she forgot her name. She turned to call to the girl but she was gone.

So instead, she googled the weather at the place she would be staying. A series of sun icons flashed on the screen, illustrating the weather forecast for the week.

Like Sean and half of America's high school senior population, she would be spending Spring Break at the beach, soaking in the sun. But the only difference was, she'd be spending it alone, on the other side of the globe.