‘Kate,’ I said slowly, annunciating every syllable carefully. ‘You are giving me a migraine.’

Sometimes I wonder how that girl even got into Harvard.

‘Hey, you know, Gerald Ford went to U of Michigan. He was given a football scholarship. Not sure if I approve of his presidency or his policies. Apparently, he was an alright student though,’ Kate said randomly.

‘Can you not do that?’

‘Not do what?’

‘Go from ditz to intelligent in five seconds. It’s very disconcerting.’

We were standing in line at one of the domestic flight terminals in New York waiting to get seats on a flight to Detroit. Since we had the next week off college, I had decided to go back home to New York for a day or two before heading out to visit Ivana with Kate.

This turned out to be a stupid idea, although I didn’t tell Kate this. My stressed out workaholic parents were unwelcoming and spent the whole of yesterday telling me how inadequate each aspect of my life was turning out to be. They had treated Kate like royalty while treating me as if I were a complete nuisance. Or, in light of the fact anything I did wasn’t good enough for them, they treated me like an incomplete nuisance. I guess I only came back because I missed New York City itself.

After what seemed like an hour waiting in the line for American Airlines desk 4, Kate and I finally made it to the front of the line. We were greeting by a red-haired lady with big glasses, and earrings so sparkly I had to squint while looking at her.

‘Two first class tickets to Detroit,’ I requested. ‘Please.’

‘Sorry, miss. We only have business class seats left,’ the red-haired lady told me.

‘Yeah but I’m a VIP member. So can’t you just downgrade somebody for us?’ I asked in a voice that practically screamed ‘spoilt brat’.

Kate nudged me to signal that I was being rude. I didn’t care. I was in an extremely bad mood, fueled by the less than warm reception from my parents. They had said some very harsh words to me. Also, I hadn’t slept properly for days. I was worrying over school results. Not to mention, the deadline for the article I was writing for the freshman newspaper was approaching. And Ivana kept ringing me every hour to check up on me.

‘Sorry, we can’t do that. The mother and son over there took the last seats,’ the lady told me, while pointing to her right to point out a tall guy and his mom.

‘You can tell them you made a mistake and that two VIP seats were actually reserved,’ I suggested.

‘Ivy, ssshhh! Let’s fly business. It doesn’t matter,’ Kate whispered.

‘Yes, well they might not have VIP cards but that lady’s son is a very important person,’ the red-haired lady said. She now had a smile on her face as if she were star-struck.

‘Yeah, who is he? European royalty? A senator’s son?’

The lady gushed and giggled. Have you ever seen a middle aged woman giggle? I have now.

‘No, miss. He’s Michael Phelps,’ she said excitedly.

‘So?’

It’s not that I wasn’t aware of who he was. It’s just that, sometimes when I’m in a bad mood, I tend to treat certain things with indifference. The President could’ve been standing next to me and I wouldn’t have cared one bit.

‘I got an autograph! Would you like to see it?’

‘No, I wouldn’t.’

‘He won eight medals at the Olympics. Isn’t he great?’

‘Just give me the business seats.’

‘Yes, miss.’

I handed her my Amex and stood there extremely frustrated. I wanted to get out of New York. I wanted to be in first class so I could sleep my anger off or if possible, drink my way out of it. But no, a gold medalist had booked the tickets before me. How was I supposed to compete with that?

I wheeled my luggage to the waiting lounge while Kate scolded me. Perhaps my mother had given her some pointers during our stay.

‘You’re acting like a spoilt little brat.’

‘I am fully aware of that.’

‘What’s wrong?’

I pursed my lips. I didn’t want to talk about anything.

‘I’m going to that shop over there to… get a juice or something,’ I said, desperately changing the subject.

‘Come on, will you stop with the denial? What did your parents say? And Ivy, you don’t even like juice that much.’

‘Sure I do.’

I walked over to the counter. I didn’t like juice that much but being stubborn is a hobby of mine and I didn’t want to give Kate any indication that I was losing it. I felt like there was some sort of conspiracy to keep me stressing out. However, I knew I had to calm down or I would probably end up embarrassing myself.

The girl behind the counter was serving some guy so I decided to wait for them to finish. I looked over at the fridge. Cranberry juice. Orange juice. Blackcurrant juice. Tomato juice. I wanted a coffee more than anything but I didn’t need to be edgier than I already was. I looked back at the two people to my left. I noticed that the guy had already got what he paid for (a bottle of sports water) and that the girl was just ignoring me. This fueled my conspiracy theory. It was like I had ‘please annoy me’ stamped on my forehead and I didn’t know about it. Or worse, it was like I did know about it but couldn’t get it off.

I leered at the girl but I didn’t say anything. I heard her ask the guy for an autograph. I looked at the guy. He was tall, had brown hair and from what I could gather, was pretty athletic. He signed a piece of paper for her.

Michael Phelps.

The two suddenly noticed I was standing there. They caught me glaring at them with this look that said ‘you’re annoying me because you’re ignoring me’. The girl gave me this look that said ‘go away, I’m talking to Michael Phelps so I don’t care if I’m annoying you by ignoring you’. I then gave her this look that said ‘get me juice before I scream at you in front of him’.

‘Oh, can I help you?’ she finally asked. She batted her eyelashes at Michael.

‘If you’re not too busy,’ I said in a more sarcastic voice than intended. ‘I’ll have an orange juice.’

She opened the fridge behind her and took a bottle from the top shelf. She put the bottle down on the counter top with a clunk. Then she shot me a look that said ‘now get lost so I can have Michael to myself’. I countered with one that said ‘what makes you think he wants you? Because he doesn’t’.

‘That’ll be a buck fifty.’

I opened my purse and found that I didn’t have any change or small bills. I only had a $100 bill. I groaned. The day just kept getting worse.

‘I only have a $100 bill.’

‘Well, that’s a little inconvenient for me. I just did a cash clearance half an hour ago. Can you find some change, miss?’

‘Well, Georgia,’ I retorted stiffly, reading her name off her badge. ‘Why don’t you just…’

‘You know what…here, I’ll get that for you,’ a male voice interjected.

I had forgotten that Michael was actually still standing there. He took his wallet out of his back pocket and took out some change. He gave it to the girl, who was thrilled by his continued presence but disappointed that he was paying attention to anyone other than herself. She gave him his change, said it was really great to meet him and then went to serve another customer, who looked as if he had been waiting for a while.

He turned to me with a concerned look on his face.

‘Are you okay? I saw you getting a bit flustered at the AA counter. Did something go wrong with your tickets?’ he asked.

If there was any way to put me back into my place and stop me from acting like a spoilt little rich kid, it was that. A bystander catching me out. In this case, a hot bystander.

It took me a few seconds to respond. I wasn’t going to say ‘Oh you stole the seats I wanted’. I wanted to say something interesting. Something witty. Intelligent. But I studied his gorgeous face for several seconds, and instead got distracted.

‘I’m just having a bad day.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.’

I started to get nervous. I hardly ever get nervous. In fact, I’m probably someone who is frequently over-confident. I calmed down a bit before speaking again.

‘Why did you that for me?’ I asked him tersely but curiously. ‘I mean, it’s just that I don’t encounter many random acts of kindness these days. Especially ones for my benefit. I don’t even know you.’

‘Well, I guess I didn’t want your day to get worse,’ he shrugged. Oh, that smile again.

‘Hmmm, good answer. I think you scored some major brownie points there.’

‘Good to know.’

‘So, thanks for the juice. I better get back to my friend.’

‘Okay. See you ‘round,’ he smiled.

That grin is a killer. If someone had requested for me to do something crazy like singing ‘Baby, one more time’ in front of the whole airport, I seriously would have done it if the request came with that smile.

I took the juice from the counter top, took a straw from the dispenser and nodded politely before walking away. When I got back to Kate at the lounge she frowned at me.

‘You didn’t get me anything? What kind of friend are you?’

‘Sorry. I didn’t have any change anyway. Michael Phelps bought me this juice.’

I said that like it was a totally normal event.

‘What? Did you yell at him for taking our seats?’ she asked.

‘No! And if I did, why would he buy me a juice?’

‘To make up for it.’

‘What?’

She made no sense sometimes.

‘Did he touch the bottle? If he touched the bottle, you’re not drinking that! We’ll preserve it and sell it on eBay.’

‘Huh?’

‘Come on! Piece of cheese toast with the Virgin Mary imprinted on it sells for $28 000. We could make some cash here! He has some crazy fans.’

‘He didn’t touch the bottle.’

‘Oh. Did you get an autograph, at least?’

‘Er…no.’

‘What did you say to him?’

‘Thanks for the juice.’

‘That’s it? That’s worse than the time Marissa said ‘I love you’ to Ryan on ‘The OC’ and all he could come up with was… ‘Thank you’.’

I thought about this. Years from now I could be watching the Beijing Olympics on television and I’d be telling people ‘Hey, I met Michael Phelps at an airport once. I thanked him for buying me a juice’.

‘You have a point,’ I admitted

‘Did you give any indication that you knew who he was? You didn’t ask for an autograph and you weren’t hyperventilating, were you?’

‘Why does it matter?’

‘Just wondering.’

I sat down on the seat next to her. I sat there silently repenting. I had been a complete bitch to practically everyone I had encountered today, taking out my anger on everyone around me. I didn’t even deserve Michael’s act of kindness.

I turned to Kate, who was flicking through People magazine.

‘Sorry about…you know.’

She looked up from the article she was reading.

‘Don’t worry about it. I’m not annoyed at you. I just wish you’d talk about your feelings instead of lashing out at people. I think you’d get more out of discussing things than acting like an ice queen.’

For a while I listened to the hum of jet engines and the chatter of waiting passengers. I drummed my fingers on the armrest. I looked at my watch. 7pm.

‘Are you going to drink that?’ Kate asked, pointing to the juice bottle in my hand.

‘Not now.’

‘Can I have it?’

‘No.’

‘Ha! Oh, you don’t want to give it away. You have a secret crush on Michael Phelps, don’t you?’

‘No.’

‘You’re going to keep it and add it to the Michael shrine you have back home!’

‘No.’

The boarding call sounded. We started making our way to the gate with the other passengers.

‘You’re going to do a magic spell with it to make him want you.’

‘No.’

‘You’re going to write an article about it for the freshman paper, aren’t you?’

‘No.’

‘You’re going to…’

It was going to be a long flight.

‘Omigod, he is so fine,’ she whispered.

‘You know, maybe you should listen to the instructions instead of checking him out. What happens if we hit bad turbulence and you don’t know what to do when the oxygen mask drops from above us?’

‘Hello? I’ll just copy what everyone else is doing.’

‘Yes, because that will be so easy when you can’t breathe.’

We hadn’t taken off yet. I figured we were waiting for a missing passenger. Some of the other passengers near us were getting restless due to the delay. So was I.

The flight attendant had blonde curly hair and blue eyes. Kate stared at him, transfixed as if learning how to blow up a life vest in case the plane crashed into the Great Lakes was the most interesting lesson she had ever learnt. Then the flight attendant finished his demonstration, much to Kate’s disappointment. Another flight attendant came over to him, whispered something in his ear and pointed to us.

‘Why are they pointing at us?’ I whispered to Kate.

‘Oh no. Maybe he noticed that I was checking him out. Am I in trouble? There’s no rule against that though. They can’t kick me off for the plane for that, can they?’ she said in rising panic.

‘Of course not!’

‘Omigod, he’s coming this way!’

The attendant comes over and explains to us that two first class passengers haven’t turned up and that since I am a VIP passenger, if we want to take their seats before takeoff, we can.

‘I could escort you two ladies to the first class cabin right now,’ he said with a wink.

‘Oh we’d appreciate that,’ Kate replied, also with a wink.

‘Well, you’d be very welcome, miss,’ he said in a voice that had suggestive undertones.

Kate giggles at him. He winks yet again.

Pass me a barf bag.

Oh wait. I’m on a plane. I already have one.

‘I’m fine here. I think we’ll stay,’ I told the guy.

‘What? You wanted those seats,’ Kate snapped. She grabs my arm, forces me to stand up and pushes me into the aisle before I can protest further. The attendant opens up the overhead compartment and gets our bags out.

As we walk down the aisle to the next class, Kate turns to me with a confused look. I read it and whisper my answer.

‘Michael Phelps is in first class.’

‘So?’

‘I’m embarrassed. He’s probably already labeled me ‘hostile juice girl’. He’s probably told his mom about it.’

‘You made that up. Besides, this may come as a shock but the world doesn’t revolve around you. Get over yourself.’

‘Hey, are you mad at me?’

‘You were rude to the hot guy. He was trying to help us.’

‘I was not rude. I just said I didn’t want to move.’

We followed the attendant into first class, to our new seats. They were at the very front. I just looked straight ahead and slid into the seat pointed out to me, which was the aisle seat on the right block. The attendant put our hand luggage in the compartment and then went away. But not before smiling at Kate.

‘Oh, he’s not mad at us. You are forgiven now,’ Kate said.

‘But, I didn’t do anything.’

‘Hey, this is the first time a guy has looked at me first instead of you. You always get the attention. Let me enjoy this moment.’

She has this look on her face as if she is meditating.

‘O-kay then.’

‘For your information, Phelps is in Row 4, middle block, aisle seat. He looked at you when we walked by.’

‘He did not.’

‘How would you know? You weren’t looking. You’re chicken.’

‘I’m not chicken.’

‘Yeah, and he can’t swim,’ she countered, her words dripping in sarcasm.

‘Very funny. You should try stand-up one day.’

‘Have a look.’

‘At what?’

‘HIM, you moron.’

‘How? We’re in the front. I can’t look back without being completely obvious.’

‘Do it.’

‘Okay!’

I tried to move my head as subtly as possible. To anyone watching, it was probably a really suspicious action. Like in those action movies where the bad guy needs to scope out the scene to see whether he has the all clear to…hijack Air Force One, for example. I’m not a big Harrison Ford fan so that movie did nothing for me. I changed tact, and tried to act natural.

I glanced behind me as if wondering when we were going to takeoff, and then looked back at Kate.

‘The guy with the Ravens cap?’

‘Yeah. What, can’t you recognize him?’

‘He didn’t have the cap on before. Besides, when you think about it, it’s kind of hard to recognize him fully clothed.’

‘WHAT???!!!’ Kate exclaimed very loudly. I bet you even the pilot could have heard her.

‘Ssssshhh! I meant, without the swimming cap and goggles, without being in a pool. Get your mind out of the gutter!’ I hissed in a hushed manner.

The old ladies in the seats adjacent to us were looking at us weirdly. Then they shook their heads at us. Then they started muttering to each other about the youth of today and how rude we were. I didn’t actually hear them saying that but it was a pretty safe assumption. I’m sure a few other people behind us were wondering what was going on too.

‘Oh, I get it now. You said that SO wrong, Ivy.’

‘You didn’t have to yell out.’

I glanced behind me to see if any other old ladies or flight attendants were frowning at us. I scanned the rows closest to us, but no one was looking our way. Then I glanced at the fourth row.

Michael was looking in my direction. He now had his headphones on and he was tapping his fingers to the beat of the song.

Our eyes locked. A look of recognition came over his face. He smiled at me. The he mouthed ‘hi’ to me. I mouthed ‘hi’ back.

Then I turned back around because I didn’t know what else to do. I realized I had been holding my breath, so I exhaled slowly. Omigod, omigod, omigod. I tried to act nonchalantly. I would’ve physically slapped myself and told myself out loud to ‘get a grip’ but obviously I couldn’t do that without looking mental. This would've been a good time for that oxygen mask. Instead, I tried to occupy myself by reading the in-flight magazine.

But I must’ve looked shifty, because Kate turned to me with a ridiculously smug look on her face.

‘Looks like Michael Phelps has a new fan.’

Indeed, he does.

‘OUCH!’

Kate had been trying to pull out her hand luggage out of the overhead compartment in one swift swoop. Instead, she took hold of one bag and let the other fall on my head.

‘Oops, sorry!!!’

I rubbed my head with my hand. Hopefully, a nasty bump wouldn’t form. One time in fifth grade I got hit on the back of the head by a locker door. My classmates said they couldn’t actually see the bump, but I still knew it was there. I spent a whole week acting as if I had been maimed.

‘Yeah, whatever, it was an accident,’ I said dismissively.

Kate gave me a mock expression of surprise. Well, I thought it was a mock expression.

‘You’re not going to yell at me? Are those anger management classes kicking in?’ she joked.

‘Well, I’ve suffered a blow to the head, haven’t I?’ I shrugged.

‘Was that a joke?’

‘Maybe.’

For the record, I don’t take anger management classes. I suppose if someone suggested it, I would…well, get mad. Besides, I’ve always thought that having a short fuse at times made me a more passionate debater and public speaker. My speeches were always more convincing when I had the urge to really hammer the opposition (figuratively speaking, of course).

I took my own bags out of the compartment. I slung one over my shoulder and carried the other in my hand. I inwardly cringed at Kate’s Louis Vuitton bags. What was the point of having the real ones if there were fakes everywhere for ten dollars? Even Paris Hilton couldn’t tell the difference when they asked her on TRL.

Not that I care what Paris Hilton thinks.

That’s if she thinks at all.

The good thing about being in the first row is that you get to leave first. The bad thing about there being a good looking guy in the fourth row is that you don’t actually want to leave. I snuck a peek at Michael. He was helping his mom get her hand luggage. Another passenger was asking him for an autograph. He obliged with a smile. Guess the cap didn’t work so well with some people.

‘Come on, let’s move it,’ somebody said, while pushing me in the back.

Have you ever been pushed in the back by an irate seventy year old woman? I have now.

I thought about giving the elderly woman a dirty look for pushing me so hard but I thought better of it. Just in case she had the urge to push me again. Instead, Kate and I walked briskly to the plane exit without looking back. Once into the airport, we followed the directions to the baggage pick up.

‘What was that lady’s problem? She was so mad, her nostrils flared,’ Kate said.

‘I have no idea.’

‘I wonder if she’s even aware her nostrils flare like that. It’s not very attractive.’

I gave Kate a blank expression.

I looked around the baggage pick up area. Michael had just come out of the gate area. He and his mom were talking animatedly. They seemed close; the only times my mom and I talked with such enthusiasm was when we were in an argument. A few bystanders near him were giving him that ‘don’t I know you from somewhere?’ look. I wondered if he found the attention annoying or if he just took it in his stride.

Kate poked me in the arm and I turned in time to see our bags coming towards us on the conveyor belt. We yanked them off the conveyor belt (Kate did so quite ungracefully, her suitcase landing on her foot), and we made our way to the arrival lounge.

As soon as we stepped into the arrival lounge, I heard a squeal and then I was trapped in a bear hug.

‘Yay! You’re here, Ivy,’ Ivana said when she released me from her grip.

‘Hey!’ I said, rubbing my arm. I think Ivana underestimated her own strength. After all, I wasn’t an athlete like her. She was wearing her U-M tracksuit and she had put her brown hair in a bun.

She turned to Kate. ‘Nice to meet you, Kate!’

‘You too!’

‘Well, come on. Follow me. We have a bit of a drive. Unless, you need another coffee fix first, Ivy,’ Ivana said, walking towards the exit and signaling for us to do the same.

‘No, I’m fine.’

We exited the airport and started walking to where Ivana parked her car. I relished the fresh air. Well, as fresh as the air in a car park can be. The airport was still moderately busy at this time of night, so there were still people around either coming or going. The wheels of our suitcases made a bit of noise as we wheeled them across the asphalt.

‘So, how was the trek here?’ Ivana asked.

‘Not bad, actually…’ Kate began.

I looked over at her. She looked as if she had just decided to bite her tongue and not say anything, but then she clearly indicated that she had changed her mind.

‘…Ivy fell in love.’

‘I did not!’ I exclaimed. I prepared myself to be on the defensive.

Kate stopped in her tracks. This made Ivana and I stop too. Kate flung her arms out in a dramatic fashion and with a philosophical look on her face, began speaking in a drawn out English accent. Here we go.

‘Love sought is good, but given unsought is better,’ she quoted from Shakespeare’s ‘Twelfth Night’.

I rolled my eyes. Ivana laughed. A few people who were milling around the car park looked in our direction.

‘Don’t say shit like that to me in public. People can hear you,’ I quoted from ‘10 Things I Hate About You’.

‘And when love speaks, the voice of all the gods makes heaven drowsy with the harmony,’ Kate continued in her Shakespearean moment. She pretended to wipe a tear from her eye. Ivana laughed again.

‘I’m not in love with him. He was nice to me and I only spoke to him for like five seconds’.

‘A woman would run through fire and water for such a kind heart,’ Kate replied, her accent getting even more accentuated.

‘Stop it,’ I said. ‘You’re just showing off just because English Lit is your major.’

Kate dropped her arms. And hopefully the accent too. We started walking again.
‘ Drama queen,’ I muttered under my breath.

‘Takes one to know one,’ Kate countered.

‘Who was this guy anyway?’ Ivana asked Kate, while getting her car keys out of her bag.

‘Oh, just some guy….whatshisname…can’t put my finger on it…oh I just had it…hhmmm…give me a second…Michael Phelps… or something like that.’

‘No way!’ Ivana said.

‘Yes way!’ Kate responded.

‘He’s a nice guy, isn’t he?’ Ivana said.

‘You know him?’ Kate asked.

‘He’s the new assistant coach of my swim team. In fact, we have a breakfast for the team, friends and family tomorrow. He’ll be there! Of course, I’m taking you two with me,’ Ivana said.

‘Well, I’m not going,’ I declared.

‘Of course you are, you’re my guest,’ was Ivana’s reply.

‘Besides,’ Kate began, with her English accent back on, and her arms twirling. ‘It is not in the stars to hold our destiny, but in ourselves.’

I slugged her with my handbag.