Chapter 1. Gate 12B: The Day Sophia’s Life Got Weird.

I woke up this morning with my hair sticking to my face, my alarm blaring, and my suitcase half-zipped like it was threatening to explode. Iconic start, really. But today wasn’t just any day.

Today, I Sophia was moving out of Florida.
Like, for real. Not the “maybe someday” move. The “I bought a one-way ticket to New York City at 2 a.m. during an identity crisis” move.

The Florida sun was out like it wanted to guilt-trip me into staying. Rude. My Uber driver tried to bond with me over podcast recommendations I didn’t ask for, and by the time I arrived at the airport, my glands were producing enough sweat to fill a kiddie pool.

Gate 12B was where everything was supposed to change for me.

I sat down, cracked open my brand-new “New Life, New Me” journal (cringe, I know), and wrote:

“New York, please don’t destroy me immediately.”

Then someone dropped a backpack beside me so loudly it nearly sent me into orbit.

“Sorry!” a voice said.

I looked up and wow.
Zack.

Messy dark hair. Warm smile. Shirt slightly wrinkled like he rushed here. He looked like the type of guy who’d be the reliable character in a Netflix show — charming, accidentally funny, way too kind for this world energy.

“You flying to New York?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said, trying not to sound like a squirrel in distress.

We talked. Like… actually talked.
About why he was moving (new tech job).
Why I was moving (chaos, boredom, self-discovery, the usual).
Why Florida felt like living in a sauna with lizards.

For a moment, it felt suspiciously like fate — which is not a thing I believe in, but whatever.

Then it all went sideways.

Someone tapped my shoulder.
TSA Guy.
Again.

He held up my passport like it was evidence in a crime documentary.

“You dropped this,” he said.
Then: “There’s an issue. You need to come with me.”

HELLO??
Right NOW?!
As I was finally feeling like my life might not be a disaster?!

The issue?
Someone had mistyped my birthday in the system.
ONE NUMBER.
ONE.

I wanted to throw myself into the nearest garbage can.

When they finally cleared me, I sprinted back to Gate 12B assuming I had missed my flight, my new life, and any chance of ever talking to Zack again.

But then I saw him.

Still standing there.
Still waiting.

“You didn’t leave?” I asked, breathless.

Zack shrugged like it was no big deal.
“It didn’t feel right getting on without you.”

And I swear my heart did a somersault.

We boarded together.
Sat together.
Laughed through turbulence.
And something about it felt… familiar. Easy. Like talking to someone I should’ve met years ago.

(what do yall think abt this..)