but I focused on other things. Important things like I hadn’t put lippy on this morning.
Fumbling in my bag for the Coral Crush lipstick, I found it and looked at Joslyn. My eyes zeroed in on her neck, covered demurely by a teal scarf. I frowned. “What the hell is that? You never wear scarves.”
She flushed, her cheeks glowing a bright shade of fuchsia. “What? I’m allowed a wardrobe change, aren’t I? No crime in accessorizing, Nina.”
Joslyn was a terrible liar. I leaned in, trying to stifle my chuckle. “You naughty bitch.”
She groaned. “No! How did you guess?” She opened the food trolley and grabbed the hand mirror hidden on top—a necessity of our occupation—we always had to look our best for the passengers.
I stole the mirror to apply my lippy. My blue eyes popped beneath a dusting of eye-shadow and my bronzy-chestnut hair behaved itself for once, staying in its plait. “It’s too obvious. You never wear scarves. Not even when it snowed last month.”
She hung her head in her hands. “Do you think Ms. Klein will notice? You being late won’t matter at all if she spots me.”
“Spots the giant hickey on your neck, you mean?” I giggled, pulling the material wrapped around her throat to expose the angry bruise left by audacious lips. “Ouch. That’s gonna linger.”
Her eyes grew dewy. “Ah, but it was worth it.”
I cocked a hip. “Which one? You do realise you signed up to be a flight attendant to travel the world and see exotic places right? Not to bang the pilots.” I had to agree with my father on that one. I was here for one thing only: career.
She gave me a fake, shocked look. “Really? Here I was thinking I had to earn my wings.” She snickered.
Oh, for heaven sakes. What was with girls and pilots? Every pilot I’d met was either ancient, married, or a sleazoid. No thank you very much. They did not interest me. Travelling did. This was a win-win. Travel—see the world—all while getting paid for it.
“What are you two gigglers doing down here?” Ms. Klein suddenly appeared down the aisle.
Crap. Strike two. First late, now loitering.
“Nothing,” Joslyn and I both chimed. She pinched my arm inconspicuously. I glared at her, and we struggled not to laugh.
Ms. Klein narrowed her eyes, but didn’t comment on our disorderly conduct. “Boarding commences in two minutes. Go to your stations.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Joslyn nodded.
The minute Ms. Klein was out of ear range, I rolled my eyes. “Ma’am? What are you? Forty?”
She ran hands over her strawberry blonde hair. “Nope. I’m a healthy twenty-three-year-old who likes to boink pilots.”
I snorted, unable to keep a straight face. Bolting to my side of the plane, I tried to plaster a professional, vacant smile on my lips instead.
This was it.
I wasn’t in training anymore. My first day as a professional flight attendant, and I was…
Wait a sec?
I wasn’t nervous. Huh, that’s interesting . I guess the training drill yesterday dissolved my anxiety. That was nasty. Being forced inside a tube the size of a plane and then the seats being set on fire. Having to crawl out of the tiny space, swamped with black, acrid smoke was my worst idea of fun. I struggled with claustrophobia on a good day, let alone when I might become a s'more.
Passengers filed past me with their over-the-limit carry-on; ignoring and bumping me to put their bags into overhead lockers. One woman practically fell into my lap she had so much crap: a bag, a laptop, purse, and a toddler on her hip.
“Can you hold him?” she asked, shoving the kid in my face.
Nope. Not gonna happen. I’d never held a kid before, wasn’t gonna start now. I beamed my ‘I’m here to help you’ smile and took her bags instead. “Why don’t you hold your bundle of joy. I’ll put the bags away for you.”
The bundle of joy took that moment to sneeze and a giant geyser of snot expelled from his nose and dribbled down his chin. Lucky for me my gag
Fumbling in my bag for the Coral Crush lipstick, I found it and looked at Joslyn. My eyes zeroed in on her neck, covered demurely by a teal scarf. I frowned. “What the hell is that? You never wear scarves.”
She flushed, her cheeks glowing a bright shade of fuchsia. “What? I’m allowed a wardrobe change, aren’t I? No crime in accessorizing, Nina.”
Joslyn was a terrible liar. I leaned in, trying to stifle my chuckle. “You naughty bitch.”
She groaned. “No! How did you guess?” She opened the food trolley and grabbed the hand mirror hidden on top—a necessity of our occupation—we always had to look our best for the passengers.
I stole the mirror to apply my lippy. My blue eyes popped beneath a dusting of eye-shadow and my bronzy-chestnut hair behaved itself for once, staying in its plait. “It’s too obvious. You never wear scarves. Not even when it snowed last month.”
She hung her head in her hands. “Do you think Ms. Klein will notice? You being late won’t matter at all if she spots me.”
“Spots the giant hickey on your neck, you mean?” I giggled, pulling the material wrapped around her throat to expose the angry bruise left by audacious lips. “Ouch. That’s gonna linger.”
Her eyes grew dewy. “Ah, but it was worth it.”
I cocked a hip. “Which one? You do realise you signed up to be a flight attendant to travel the world and see exotic places right? Not to bang the pilots.” I had to agree with my father on that one. I was here for one thing only: career.
She gave me a fake, shocked look. “Really? Here I was thinking I had to earn my wings.” She snickered.
Oh, for heaven sakes. What was with girls and pilots? Every pilot I’d met was either ancient, married, or a sleazoid. No thank you very much. They did not interest me. Travelling did. This was a win-win. Travel—see the world—all while getting paid for it.
“What are you two gigglers doing down here?” Ms. Klein suddenly appeared down the aisle.
Crap. Strike two. First late, now loitering.
“Nothing,” Joslyn and I both chimed. She pinched my arm inconspicuously. I glared at her, and we struggled not to laugh.
Ms. Klein narrowed her eyes, but didn’t comment on our disorderly conduct. “Boarding commences in two minutes. Go to your stations.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Joslyn nodded.
The minute Ms. Klein was out of ear range, I rolled my eyes. “Ma’am? What are you? Forty?”
She ran hands over her strawberry blonde hair. “Nope. I’m a healthy twenty-three-year-old who likes to boink pilots.”
I snorted, unable to keep a straight face. Bolting to my side of the plane, I tried to plaster a professional, vacant smile on my lips instead.
This was it.
I wasn’t in training anymore. My first day as a professional flight attendant, and I was…
Wait a sec?
I wasn’t nervous. Huh, that’s interesting . I guess the training drill yesterday dissolved my anxiety. That was nasty. Being forced inside a tube the size of a plane and then the seats being set on fire. Having to crawl out of the tiny space, swamped with black, acrid smoke was my worst idea of fun. I struggled with claustrophobia on a good day, let alone when I might become a s'more.
Passengers filed past me with their over-the-limit carry-on; ignoring and bumping me to put their bags into overhead lockers. One woman practically fell into my lap she had so much crap: a bag, a laptop, purse, and a toddler on her hip.
“Can you hold him?” she asked, shoving the kid in my face.
Nope. Not gonna happen. I’d never held a kid before, wasn’t gonna start now. I beamed my ‘I’m here to help you’ smile and took her bags instead. “Why don’t you hold your bundle of joy. I’ll put the bags away for you.”
The bundle of joy took that moment to sneeze and a giant geyser of snot expelled from his nose and dribbled down his chin. Lucky for me my gag
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