Life's a Beach by Claire Cook

Author:Claire Cook
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781401388010
Publisher: Hyperion

“YOU WANT TO BE downgraded?” the man behind the check-in counter asked.

I smiled my most encouraging smile. “Well, yes, I think so, but I just want to be sure I can get the difference.” I opened my eyes wide and tried to look pleading but not desperate. “Cash would be great,” I added.

“Excuse me?” he said in kind of a snippy tone. He slid one of the tickets out of its envelope with his thumb and forefinger, as if he didn’t want to smudge any incriminating fingerprints.

I had this horrible feeling he was about to call security, so I backpedaled a little. “But, really, a check would be just fine. Thanks so much for anything you can do. Sir.”

He gave me a look that said he was all-powerful and I was a mere ant in the picnic of life. “Listen, hon, we change these tickets and the best that can happen is the travel agency gets a refund check. I’m not even sure about that.”

He slid the ticket back into its envelope and flicked his wrist to hold it out to me. “Take the first class, hon,” he said. “It might be your only chance.”

Riley and I found our way to the security checkpoint line, which seemed to stretch back for miles. As we waited, people sighed and looked at their watches and talked about how ridiculous this was and how there had to be a more efficient way to do that. We inched forward for maybe ten minutes or so, and I began to notice occasional people walking by us as if the line didn’t apply to them. “Save my place,” I said to Riley the next time one of them went by.

I followed a man in a suit until I saw a sign on a waist-high metal pole that said FIRST CLASS and BUSINESS CLASS. The man strolled past the pole as if he owned the place, and I practically ran back to Riley.

I grabbed my carry-on. “Follow me,” I said to Riley.

Riley and I wheeled our suitcases right past all those poor suckers. “I don’t think you’re allowed to take front cuts,” Riley said.

“You get what you pay for,” I said.

We were through security before we knew it, and we sat in plastic chairs and watched the television sets next to our gate until we heard a voice say, “Boarding flight two-sixty-four. First-class passengers only.”

Riley and I waltzed past the pilot and the smiling flight attendants to seats 3A and 3C. I reached up to put our bags in the roomy overhead bins and noticed the seats next to us were 3D and F. Seats 3B and E apparently did not exist, which meant that two entire people had been done away with to make room for our navy blue leather recliners.

“Score,” Riley said beside me as he reached around in the pocket on the back of the seat in front of him. “We don’t have to pay for the headphones.”

“Champagne?” a flight attendant asked.

“I might need

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