‘But you just upgraded her to first class.’ The scarf-lady points at me. I scuttle further away from them, wanting to disappear into the faded airport carpet.

‘You asked to be seated together, and there was only one seat left in first class.’

The woman huffs and turns to go, but not before giving me a pointed glance.

Her partner remains behind, asking the gate agent if there’s anything he can do. After another minute of bargaining, he turns to go, lugging a mysterious and heavy-looking black box after the woman in the scarf.

When I land in Cairns it’s morning. My first-class experience was nothing short of blissful, even if I did spend an inordinate amount of it watching videos of Murphy as a puppy and wondering if he missed me. The food was so good I didn’t even finish my own snacks and when I reclined my chair all the way down, I almost let out a scream of excitement. Thankfully, I didn’t see the glamorous woman and her boyfriend again. Now that I know first-hand how wonderful a first-class upgrade is, I see why she was so disappointed.

I clear customs and try to tamp down my yawns. I glance down at the notes I’d written on the plane. The flight gave me time to make a game plan and I resolved to spend the next six days accomplishing two things: 1) finding the butterfly wrasse for my sister, and 2) using this time with no distractions, no work, space from a routine that used to be filled with Zach and our friends, to think about what I really want in life. I know I don’t want to stay at Sunshine Foods forever, and I also know I made the right choice breaking things off with Zach, but that’s about it.

Before I take my phone off Wi-Fi, I get a text from my parents wishing me well. Becca has sent me a barrage of texts, including I miss you already loser!!! and Can you get an Australian hunk’s number for me please??? Tell him I’ll marry for a visa! I reply to them both before sending one last message full of hearts to Millie. I start to weave my way through the airport, towards the open air, hoping to find sunscreen on my way out.

Not a single store seems to be selling the sunscreen I need but my frustration clears as soon as I step outside. Instantly, I’m hit by a wave of humidity. I breathe in long and slow, a huge smile covering my face as I am blanketed with warmth. Compared to an Ohio winter, it feels incredible, blissful, even. It’s early enough that there’s still dew sparkling on the grass lining the parking lot. The airport is small, palm trees lining the building. I spot the sign for the shuttle to the docks right away.