“You’re making me self-conscious,” Bennett comments, still watching the road.
“Er—sorry,” Teddy startles, his voice cracking as he redirects his gaze through the windshield. “How much longer until we get to the airport?”
“About ten minutes.”
Dammit.
Teddy nods. “So, what’re you going to be up to for the next couple of months?”
“Just Parachutes stuff and writing the last book in the series,” she says. “You?”
“Shooting another season of Testing Wyatt. When do you think they’ll get the Parachutes filming schedule out?” he asks.
“Not sure. They’ll probably wait to get an idea until they figure out who we’re casting as the female lead … so maybe, like, September? I don’t know when they’re gonna approach you about negotiations yet, but it’ll probably be soon. The director’s getting antsy.”
“Cool,” Teddy says. “So, uh—do you think you’ll be too busy in the next few months to make a trip back out to LA?”
Bennett grins. “Wasn’t aware there was an invitation.”
“You let me stay at your house for a weekend.…” He hopes he at least sounds like he’s maintaining some cool here. “I think it’s only fair for me to return the favor.”
“I guess I could pencil it in somewhere,” Bennett says, and Teddy’s about to call her a smartass for the forty billionth time when she adds, “Your schedule’s probably way more demanding than mine—why don’t you figure out some times that are good for you and I’ll make something work.”
Teddy lunges at the opportunity and thinks back over his upcoming work schedule. “I’ve got another month of Testing Wyatt coming up, so August probably isn’t the best.” He hums as an idea pops in his head. “My birthday’s at the beginning of September, though?”
“What day?”
“The third.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she says, and the idea of Bennett coming to visit him for his birthday is almost enough to put him in a better mood about his trip back. Almost.
“At least we have plenty of time between now and January to figure out our schedules,” Teddy adds dryly. “But now that I have your number, you can expect constant scheduling updates. With lots of emojis. And gifs.”
Bennett grins at the windshield. “I can only imagine how creative you get with emojis.”
“It will shock and awe you.”
Five minutes later, they exit off the highway and Teddy’s almost-good mood is nowhere to be found. The only sound inside the car now is the same staticky radio station they listened to on the way up.
“What airline are you flying?” Bennett asks.
“American.”
Silence.
Airport signs are becoming more and more frequent, giving out directions to overnight parking and the cell phone lot. Bennett steers them into the far left lane running under another giant sign labeled DEPARTURES. She readjusts her grip on the steering wheel for the seventh time, and that’s when Teddy finally loses his cool.
“Goddammit, Bennett,” he bites out suddenly, and he knows he’s being so dramatic now, but it feels like they’re never going to see each other again.
Bennett jumps, gripping the steering wheel with both hands. “Jesus—what?”
“This is so shitty,” Teddy whines.
“You just scared me half to death.” She presses a hand to her chest. Then, for reasons unbeknownst to Teddy, she bursts out laughing.
“The hell are you giggling at right now, Caldwell?”
“God, we’re a mess,” she says.
“We’re?” Teddy repeats. Bennett looks the exact opposite of a mess right now. In fact, she’s sitting about as still as Teddy’s ever seen her, composure fully intact.
“I told you last night I wasn’t a fan of you flying back to LA today, remember?” she says, wrinkling her nose at the windshield. She readjusts her sunglasses and Teddy feels the car slow as they approach the airport’s drop-off area.
“Welp. Here we are,” she says, pulling to the curb and shifting into park.
“Are you gonna get out and hug me good-bye, or are you gonna make me pull you across the center console?” Teddy asks, and he’s not even kidding.
Bennett waits to let some of the airport traffic pass before shouldering open her door. When she meets Teddy around at the trunk, she leans a hip against her taillight and pops the liftgate for him, hiding behind her sunglasses the whole time. Teddy pulls out his bags, drops them on the ground, and plasters a half smile on his face.
“Come on, get over here,” he says, opening his arms.
At this point, it doesn’t even matter how shitty he feels about leaving—all that matters is the little grin Bennett gives him before he wraps her up in a hug.
“Call you when I land?” he says, kissing the top of her head.
“Don’t let your arms get tired.”
“A-plus advice, Caldwell,” Teddy says. When Bennett starts to pull away from him, he takes her face in his hands and presses a slow kiss to her lips. “I’ll see you soon,” he murmurs, more as reassurance for him than anything.
“Soon,” she agrees, hands coming up to squeeze his wrists. “You’re starring in my movie, remember?”
Ah, yes. A silver lining.
“Try not to miss me too much,” Teddy calls as she rounds her car and climbs into the driver’s seat.
She rolls down the passenger’s side window and says, “Don’t flatter yourself, superstar.”
Teddy grins, waving as Bennett pulls back out into traffic … then he groans and scrubs a hand over his face. He needs to get a grip. This was inevitable. He and Bennett both have stuff to do before filming starts for Parachutes. He needs to stop being such a wuss about it.
Before heading inside, Teddy pulls out his favorite Pirates hat and tips the bill down lower than he likes. (The last thing he wants to deal with right now is someone recognizing him and asking him why he looks so sad.) He walks toward the automatic doors, getting out his phone to see what time it is—and stops dead in his tracks when he finds not one, but four missed calls. And just like clockwork, the fifth one comes through.
Something has to be up. Even at their best, she never call-bombed him like this.
“Chelsea?” he answers, walking inside. “Is everything okay?”
“Hey, Ted—yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” her voice rings out. Teddy has to pull the phone away from his ear for a second.
“Because you called me, like, five times in a row.”
“I wanted to make sure I caught you before you got through security.”
“Well, you succeeded,” Teddy says, then winces at how irritated he sounds. “I mean—no. I’m not through security yet.”
“You’re flying out of American Airlines, right?”
Teddy balks. “How the hell do you know that?”
The Caldwells had a printer at their house, so Teddy was able to print his boarding pass before he left. He breezes past the check-in desks, weaving through the crowd. On top of trying to figure out why the hell he’s on the phone with Chelsea right now, the airport is overwhelmingly crowded. People are whizzing by in all different directions, and he gets so distracted he doesn’t hear what Chelsea says in response.
“What?”
“I said,” Chelsea starts, already sounding agitated, “I looked up your flight online.”
What the— “That’s creepy, Chels.”
“No it’s not!” she yells, and Teddy almost drops his phone for the second time that day. Not that it matters.
Chelsea’s voice hadn’t come from the phone’s speaker.
Teddy looks to his left, his stomach rolling up into his throat. Chelsea is standing about twenty feet away, bags in hand. She smiles at him and lowers her phone from her ear. Then she starts toward him, and for just a second it has Teddy seriously considering the current state of his mental health.
Chelsea is here.
In the Charlotte airport.
What.
“You’re supposed to be in Vancouver,” is all he can think to say, bracing himself. His duffel bag slips off his shoulder right before she throws her arms around him.
Chelsea looks the exact same as she did the last time they saw each other (more than a month ago). Teddy can’t explain why he was expecting anything different. Her dark hair is hair-sprayed into curls that scratch the side of his neck as she hugs him. She’s wearing a sundress he’s never seen before and, when she pulls back, an expectant expression he’s come to know all too well.
“Wow, thanks for the warm greeting, there,” she says.
Teddy registers that his arms are still hanging by his sides. “Okay, but…” He gestures at the Charlotte airport around him to help get his point across. “Why?”
“I came to surprise you! Are you surprised?” she presses.
Teddy just keeps staring, mouth hanging open. Chelsea doesn’t appreciate it, apparently.
“The least you could do is pretend to be excited,” she snaps, which—no. Absolutely not.
“Are you kidding me, Chelsea?” Teddy says, finally locating the words he was looking for a second ago. “The last time we talked we were breaking up. I’m a little too freaked out to be excited right now.”
She pouts at him. “I know. And I feel bad about how it ended. I wanted to make it up to you, so I caught a flight out after we wrapped on set yesterday and got in last night—you literally won’t believe what I had to go through to get a decent hotel here.”
Teddy scrubs a hand over the top of his head and glares at the floor. “How did you even find me?”
“Jesus—I already told you I looked up your flight. It’s not that weird,” she says, looking more and more upset. “Why are you being like this?”
And again, no. Absolutely not. She’s not allowed to make him feel that shitty and unwanted and then turn around and pretend like he’s the bad guy here. Or like everything’s fine because she showed up out of the blue today. No.
“Seriously, Chels. Help me out here,” Teddy says, his tone cold. “After Friday night, why the hell would you fly all the way here from Canada, just to fly right back to Vancouver, or LA, or—wherever the hell you’re going after this?”
A huge smile spreads across Chelsea’s face, and it’s as confusing as it is irritating.
“Actually, it’s where we’re going,” she says.
“What?”
“Here, hang on,” she says, digging through her purse. She pulls out an envelope and hands it to him. He stares impassively at it.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with this.”
Chelsea scowls again. “Why don’t you try opening it.”
Teddy’s hands shake as he pulls out the envelope’s contents, but Chelsea’s already going into detail before he can read over everything.
“I booked us two seats on a flight to Miami at 3:30! I felt so bad about this weekend, so this is me making it up to you. We’re booked through the week because I couldn’t remember when you said you needed to be back for Testing Wyatt, but I figured you can get a flight out whenever.”
This is not happening.
“What about your movie?” he asks.
She smiles wider. “I told my director I need the week off for creative development, since I’ve already been working so many extra weekends.”
“Chelsea, I can’t—”
“I know this means we have a couple of hours to kill at the airport, but I’m sure we can find a place near our gate that won’t card you,” she says excitedly, bouncing up and down. “Get some alcohol in your system before the flight?”
There is no fucking way this is happening.
“I already paid for my flight back to LA,” Teddy says, and Chelsea rolls her eyes.
“Please, Teddy. You’re a professional actor. Don’t pretend like that’s an issue here. Come on.” She lifts up onto her toes and leans into his space. Before he can react, she kisses him on the cheek—dangerously close to the corner of his mouth—and says, “Let’s just get to the gate and then we can figure it out.”
She walks away then, heading for security, and Teddy watches her go. It’s not like he has a choice other than following in the same general direction, but this is all just too much. How is he supposed to get her to understand there’s no way he’s getting on a plane to Miami with her? That’s one tantrum he doesn’t feel like dealing with before flying anywhere.
“Teddy.”
Teddy freezes, every single muscle in his body tensing. He can’t breathe—can’t do anything other than pray whoever just called his name isn’t who he thinks it is. He turns around.
It is.
Bennett’s standing a couple of yards away, smirking at him. But it’s nowhere near her usual number. If looks could kill, this one would definitely make sure there’d be nothing left of Teddy to find.
“Bennett, I—”
“You left this in my floorboard,” she says, tossing something to him.
His wallet.
Teddy catches it against his chest, glancing down at it and then back to her, but she’s already disappearing into the crowd, heading for the automatic exit doors.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. SHIT.
Teddy bolts after her, too panicked to watch where he’s going. He bumps into a few people as he scrambles through the masses with his bags in tow, throwing half-hearted apologies over his shoulder as he goes.
“Bennett!” he yells, and it seems like Bennett’s the only person in the airport who doesn’t turn to look at him. He freezes again, realizing his mistake a second too late.
“Hey, is that—is that Teddy Sharpe?” he hears somewhere to his right.
“Oh my God, it is!”
“Teddy!”
“Bae!”
It happens so fast—faster than Teddy’s ever been swarmed before. Suddenly there are more people in front of him, looking and smiling and giggling and Jesus Christ in heaven, this cannot be happening. iPhones are already pointed at him from every direction, girls are squealing and yelling his name, and Teddy needs to keep moving but it’s like everyone’s moving with him now.
“Hey, guys,” he manages to get out, straining to look over the crowd for Bennett.
“Teddy! Can we get a picture?”
“Teddy! I love you. Teddy, please!”
Someone shoves a pen and a piece of paper in his hand. Another person is already trying to take a selfie with him. He can’t breathe again. Can’t form coherent sentences. He tries to dodge them but more people step in his way. And just when he’s seriously considering bowling over a twelve-year-old to break the circle they’ve formed around him, a familiar voice cuts through the crowd. Not the familiar voice he wants to hear, though.
“Hey, guys! How’s it going?” Chelsea says, pushing herself through to get to Teddy’s side. More squeals and iPhone flashes follow. Chelsea curls a hand around Teddy’s bicep and pulls herself next to him. She takes the pen out of his hand and says, “Of course we’ll take a picture, no worries! Do you guys mind backing up a little, though?”
Teddy didn’t think he could feel the tiniest bit of relief at this point, but for the first time that day, he’s thankful Chelsea’s here—only because she brought an airport security guard with her, who’s now helping herd the crowd back.
“Teddy, they want to take a picture of us together,” Chelsea says, wrapping an arm around his back. Teddy puts his arm around her shoulders out of reflex as he stares wide-eyed at everything and nothing in front of him.
“We love you guys so much!”
Teddy doesn’t know what phone to look at so he doesn’t look at any of them. Instead, he finally finds a break in the crowd that lets him see the airport exit doors, but Bennett is nowhere to be found.
Parachutes (series)
This article is brought to you by Encyclopeakia, the people’s encyclopedia.
Parachute
s is a three-book series of young adult action-romance novels written by American author M. B. Caldwell. It follows the story of seventeen-year-old Katherine Rawlins and her recruitment to a special operations unit known as The Company, as well as her complicated relationship with fellow training recruit Jack O’Heinessey.
Since the release of the first book, Parachutes, in 2017, the series has found immense popularity and commercial success, most notably in the North America, and has begun the process of translation into several languages. The series’ second book, Safety Net, was released in April 2018, with the third and final installment, Off the Grid, slated to be released in early 2020.
Film rights to the series were purchased before its publication in 2017. Production was initially delayed due to several factors surrounding the script, but was eventually green-lit in late spring 2018. It is rumored that Burt Bridges has signed on as the director, and the first film adaptation is set to begin production in January 2019.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THREE MONTHS LATER
Bennett’s gotten her morning routine down for the most part. It helps with the nerves.
1. Wake up.
2. Go for a run.
3. Shower.
4. Breakfast.
5. Read the newspaper.
6. Attempt to mentally prepare herself for the possible devastation of her entire career as a writer.
7. Convince herself that everything’s fine.
8. Start her day.
She’s still working on what comes after the start her day part.
And, well, the whole mental preparation part, too, but she likes to think that she’s getting better about it. Kind of. (Not really.)
She’s been on the Parachutes set in Wilmington, North Carolina, for a week now, and between production meetings and trailer assignments and last-minute coffee-stained script rewrites, she’s still secretly waiting for someone to jump out at her and yell, “Surprise! We’re just messing with you, Bennett. Your books actually suck. Get off the set.”
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