worst partner ever. “Sorry, sorry. Forget I said that. Maybe you could do deep-breathing exercises?” My fifth-grade teacher made us meditate together first thing every morning to “clear our minds and center ourselves,” and although I’ve always thought it was kind of stupid, maybe there’s something to it after all. I stroke the back of Will’s hand rhythmically with my thumb. “Here, try it. Close your eyes. Now breathe in through your nose for three counts, then out through your mouth for five.”
He tries it once, way too fast. “I feel really stupid.”
“No, you have to do it slowly. I’ll count with you, okay? In, two, three … Out, two, three, four, five. Good, that’s it. Again. In, two, three …”
I coach him through a couple minutes of slow breathing, and by the time the plane levels off, Will’s grip around my hand is starting to loosen. A bit of color has returned to his face, and a proud little voice in the back of my mind shouts, I did that!
“You’re looking better,” I say.
“I feel better. Thank you so much.”
“Of course,” I say. “Now that you know what to do, the rest of the flights should be easier, even if I’m not with you.” The thought of him holding some other girl’s hand as he tries to calm down makes me feel a bit sick, but I try not to show it.
“Keep distracting me,” he says. “Ask me a question or something.”
I’d really like to know more about Prawn Fork Girl, but that doesn’t seem like an appropriate topic. “What’s NYU like?” I ask instead.
“Not that kind of question. Something fun.”
“Oh. Okay.” I scour my brain for something Will might find clever. “Um, if you could choose a superpower, what would you pick?”
He doesn’t hesitate even for a second. “The ability to transform things into cheese.”
I laugh. “What? Cheese? Wouldn’t you rather be invisible or something?”
“No, think about it. I could turn toxic waste into cheese and solve the pollution problem and hunger problem at the same time. And I could turn trash into cheese and sell it, so I’d be filthy rich. Plus, I’d always have a snack.”
“You’ve given this a lot of thought, haven’t you?”
“Well, duh. Who hasn’t?” He smiles at me, and I see that his color is almost back to normal. “What would yours be?”
“Teleportation. My town is super boring, and I’d love to be able to pop over to Thailand for lunch or something and be back in time for calculus class.”
“Ooh, that’s a good one. And you’d win the race for sure.”
“I wouldn’t even need to do the race. I could just teleport into a bank vault, grab a million dollars, and zip back home.” He laughs. “Okay, your turn for a question.”
“Say we get off the plane in Surabaya and the airport’s full of zombies. What’s your survival plan?”
I love how effortlessly creative he is. “All I’d really have to do is run faster than you, right?” I say.
“Good luck with that. I did track in high school. I’m super speedy.”
“Well, in that case, my plan is to hop on your back and kick you until you speedily carry me to safety. Maybe Greg would let me use his camera as a weapon. Seems like it would be good for bashing in zombie heads.”
“I doubt you could even lift that thing. You probably weigh, like, forty-seven pounds.”
“I’m not that small!”
“You’re minuscule!”
“Then you shouldn’t mind me riding you.” The minute the words are out of my mouth, I feel my face turning bright pink. “Please tell me I didn’t say that out loud.”
Will smirks at me. “You want to ride me, huh?”
“That’s not—” I sputter. “What I meant was—”
“Don’t be embarrassed. I wouldn’t mind.”
If my face gets any redder, I’m pretty sure it’s going to catch on fire. I look down so my hair swings in front of my cheeks and take a couple deep breaths of my own. “And next question . Um … if you could only eat food beginning with
He tries it once, way too fast. “I feel really stupid.”
“No, you have to do it slowly. I’ll count with you, okay? In, two, three … Out, two, three, four, five. Good, that’s it. Again. In, two, three …”
I coach him through a couple minutes of slow breathing, and by the time the plane levels off, Will’s grip around my hand is starting to loosen. A bit of color has returned to his face, and a proud little voice in the back of my mind shouts, I did that!
“You’re looking better,” I say.
“I feel better. Thank you so much.”
“Of course,” I say. “Now that you know what to do, the rest of the flights should be easier, even if I’m not with you.” The thought of him holding some other girl’s hand as he tries to calm down makes me feel a bit sick, but I try not to show it.
“Keep distracting me,” he says. “Ask me a question or something.”
I’d really like to know more about Prawn Fork Girl, but that doesn’t seem like an appropriate topic. “What’s NYU like?” I ask instead.
“Not that kind of question. Something fun.”
“Oh. Okay.” I scour my brain for something Will might find clever. “Um, if you could choose a superpower, what would you pick?”
He doesn’t hesitate even for a second. “The ability to transform things into cheese.”
I laugh. “What? Cheese? Wouldn’t you rather be invisible or something?”
“No, think about it. I could turn toxic waste into cheese and solve the pollution problem and hunger problem at the same time. And I could turn trash into cheese and sell it, so I’d be filthy rich. Plus, I’d always have a snack.”
“You’ve given this a lot of thought, haven’t you?”
“Well, duh. Who hasn’t?” He smiles at me, and I see that his color is almost back to normal. “What would yours be?”
“Teleportation. My town is super boring, and I’d love to be able to pop over to Thailand for lunch or something and be back in time for calculus class.”
“Ooh, that’s a good one. And you’d win the race for sure.”
“I wouldn’t even need to do the race. I could just teleport into a bank vault, grab a million dollars, and zip back home.” He laughs. “Okay, your turn for a question.”
“Say we get off the plane in Surabaya and the airport’s full of zombies. What’s your survival plan?”
I love how effortlessly creative he is. “All I’d really have to do is run faster than you, right?” I say.
“Good luck with that. I did track in high school. I’m super speedy.”
“Well, in that case, my plan is to hop on your back and kick you until you speedily carry me to safety. Maybe Greg would let me use his camera as a weapon. Seems like it would be good for bashing in zombie heads.”
“I doubt you could even lift that thing. You probably weigh, like, forty-seven pounds.”
“I’m not that small!”
“You’re minuscule!”
“Then you shouldn’t mind me riding you.” The minute the words are out of my mouth, I feel my face turning bright pink. “Please tell me I didn’t say that out loud.”
Will smirks at me. “You want to ride me, huh?”
“That’s not—” I sputter. “What I meant was—”
“Don’t be embarrassed. I wouldn’t mind.”
If my face gets any redder, I’m pretty sure it’s going to catch on fire. I look down so my hair swings in front of my cheeks and take a couple deep breaths of my own. “And next question . Um … if you could only eat food beginning with
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