Love the One You're With by Cecily von Ziegesar Page A

responded loudly. “Here’s another pack of pretzels. I normally only give people one
     pack.”
    “Thanks.” Avery rolled her eyes as she gazed down at the two small foil packages the steward had flung on the plastic Formica
     tray in front of her.
    “I saw that eye-roll, young lady.” Remington closed his hands over her pretzels. He raised a salt-and-pepper eyebrow at her.
    “Sorry,” Avery huffed, feeling embarrassed but annoyed. Yeah, she was being a brat, and she knew it. But the fact that her
     mom had found someone with the same hippie-ish ideals as her made for a lot of craptastic experiences to come. She’d hoped
     Remington’s banker past would make for a cushy future, but apparently he was as annoyingly eco-chic as her mom.
    “I haven’t flown coach since eighty-eight,” Remington whispered confidentially. “But I thought ahead.” He leaned down and
     pulled a white-and-orange paper bag from his briefcase. “I’ve got bagels with chive cream cheese or lemon-zest scones. Your
     choice.”
    “Oh my God, thanks.” Avery gratefully grabbed a slightly crumbled scone from the bag, instantly feeling better.
    “I had my assistant get them this morning. I wish I could also get my assistant to persuade your mother to take my plane.”
     He shook his head ruefully, glancing over at a sleeping Edie. Her mouth was half open, her head resting against the window.
    “Your plane?” Avery raised one blond eyebrow. So Remington hadn’t totally lost touch with his former luxe lifestyle.
    You never
can
go back.
    “Yep.” Remington sighed as he pulled a bagel out from the bag and placed it on his own tray. “Maybe you can help persuade
     your mom to take it on the way back? I’m not doing this again.” Remington grinned as he took a bite of bagel.
    “Sure.” Avery nodded and smiled. It was so obvious that Remington was head over heels in
love
with her mother. It made her feel weird, but not for the reasons she’d thought it would. She honestly didn’t mind the fact
     that her mom was with a guy. What made her feel weird was wondering whether she’d
ever
feel that way about anyone.
    She glanced across the aisle. Rhys was hunched down over his iPod, his dark hair falling over his forehead. Avery quickly
     looked away, back down at her magazine, concentrating on her relaxing vision of the waves lapping the beach in Nantucket as
     the plane took off.
    Across the aisle, Owen shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable. He must have grown since the last time he’d flown coach,
     because his knees were banging into the blue seat in front of him. The plane was full, and he could just make out the dark
     tangle of Baby’s hair several rows ahead. Why was she sitting up there, with Remington’s daughter and her hipster boyfriend?
     It was as if they’d totally infiltrated their family.
    “Do you think Baby’s okay?” Owen asked Rhys, nodding ahead.
    “Huh?” Rhys glanced up from his iPod. He’d downloaded a season of
Lost,
but he had no idea what the fuck was going on.
    “What is Remington’s deal? Why is, like, his entire extended family coming on this trip? Can’t he just chill out?” Owen leaned
     back in his seat, jabbing his knees against the seat in front of him.
    “Hey!” A fat, red-faced man wearing an ill-fitting Yankees cap on his almost-bald head turned around and glared at Owen.
    “Sorry, man.” Owen shook his head. He took a sip of orange juice from the Styrofoam cup on the plastic tray in front of him.
     It sucked that the flight attendant had been such a hard-ass about alcohol. A couple mini bottles of vodka sounded
really
good right about now.
    “Dude, you want to talk?” Rhys pulled off his Bose headphones and glanced pointedly at his friend. He’d never seen Owen like
     this, and while a tiny part of him was sort of happy to see Carlyle being less than perfect, the other,
better
part of him wanted to help his buddy out.
    “Sorry, I’ll chill.” Owen unclenched his jaw.