the engines started up, panic flooded into my veins. Lincoln reached over and held my hand. “Are you a nervous flyer?” she whispered.
“Maybe,” I forced out through the strangled muscles in my throat.
A crease formed between her eyebrows, but her voice sounded calm and assured when she said, “Don’t worry. I’m a pro at flying. There is absolutely nothing to be nervous about. It’s safer than driving.”
Tim leaned into the aisle to catch the flight attendant’s attention. “We’re going to need some booze. A couple of everything.”
“Of course. Right away.” She turned and disappeared behind the curtain.
Lincoln released my hand and glared at Tim. “What are you doing?”
“The kid’s not going to make it through a fourteen hour flight if he’s scared of flying.”
Lincoln glanced at my knuckles. The blood had drained from them because I was gripping the armrests as if we were already in a dive and about to crash. After the flight attendant served Tim, he handed the selection of hard liquor mini bottles to me.
Lincoln crossed her arms and slouched against the window.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
There obviously was something bothering her, but the plane had finished taxiing and the engines roared preparing for take-off, so I got distracted. I downed three bottles and closed my eyes. Once we were actually in the air, I put my ear buds in and pretended I was on a bus instead of an airplane so I’d be able to fall asleep.
Three hours later, I woke up and made the mistake of looking out the window. As I started to hyperventilate, Lincoln slid the window shade down. Tim encouraged me to drink three more bottles, which relaxed me enough to fall asleep again. Three and a half hours later, when I woke up again, Lincoln was watching a movie. She smiled and paused her movie. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I want to get off at the next stop. I don’t know if I can make it.”
Her mouth stretched into a tight smile as if she wasn’t quite sure how to break it to me that I had no choice. “Why don’t you eat something and then watch a movie?”
“I don’t think I should eat.” The plane bumped, and we dropped down. “Whoa. What was that?”
She laughed. “Turbulence.” She leaned across me to ask the flight attendant to bring me a blanket and sleep mask. I drank another bottle of liquor, which Lincoln didn’t seem overly impressed by, but she didn’t say anything as she tucked the blanket around me and slid the mask over my head. “Try to sleep again. It will make the time go by faster.” She smiled before sliding the silk over my eyes.
I wasn’t tired anymore, so I put my earbuds in and listened to music until I eventually drifted off from boredom. We landed with a jolt. It felt like the plane wasn’t going to stop in time, and the noise was horrific until we slowed down to driving speed.
Lincoln applauded quietly. “You did it.”
“Don’t jinx it. We’re not standing in the airport yet.”
“I think it’s cute that you are so very uncool about flying.”
Self-conscious that she already knew the most embarrassing thing about me, I decided my only hope for saving face was a little self-deprecating humor. “What are you talking about? That was me being cool. Uncool would have been me lying in the fetal position, crying.”
She didn’t laugh. She just studied my face with curiosity. “You smile more when you’re drunk.”
I nodded with a big, stupid grin on my face, not because I was actually drunk. I was feeling high because I survived. “What time is it?”
She checked her phone. “Well, it’s just past seven in the morning in L.A. which makes it just after six o’clock at night here.”
I folded the blanket. “Did you sleep?”
“No. I’m scared to sleep around strangers. One time, a guy took photos of me sleeping on a plane and he posted them on the internet with photoshopped drool and snoring audio. Another time, I woke up to some
“Maybe,” I forced out through the strangled muscles in my throat.
A crease formed between her eyebrows, but her voice sounded calm and assured when she said, “Don’t worry. I’m a pro at flying. There is absolutely nothing to be nervous about. It’s safer than driving.”
Tim leaned into the aisle to catch the flight attendant’s attention. “We’re going to need some booze. A couple of everything.”
“Of course. Right away.” She turned and disappeared behind the curtain.
Lincoln released my hand and glared at Tim. “What are you doing?”
“The kid’s not going to make it through a fourteen hour flight if he’s scared of flying.”
Lincoln glanced at my knuckles. The blood had drained from them because I was gripping the armrests as if we were already in a dive and about to crash. After the flight attendant served Tim, he handed the selection of hard liquor mini bottles to me.
Lincoln crossed her arms and slouched against the window.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
There obviously was something bothering her, but the plane had finished taxiing and the engines roared preparing for take-off, so I got distracted. I downed three bottles and closed my eyes. Once we were actually in the air, I put my ear buds in and pretended I was on a bus instead of an airplane so I’d be able to fall asleep.
Three hours later, I woke up and made the mistake of looking out the window. As I started to hyperventilate, Lincoln slid the window shade down. Tim encouraged me to drink three more bottles, which relaxed me enough to fall asleep again. Three and a half hours later, when I woke up again, Lincoln was watching a movie. She smiled and paused her movie. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I want to get off at the next stop. I don’t know if I can make it.”
Her mouth stretched into a tight smile as if she wasn’t quite sure how to break it to me that I had no choice. “Why don’t you eat something and then watch a movie?”
“I don’t think I should eat.” The plane bumped, and we dropped down. “Whoa. What was that?”
She laughed. “Turbulence.” She leaned across me to ask the flight attendant to bring me a blanket and sleep mask. I drank another bottle of liquor, which Lincoln didn’t seem overly impressed by, but she didn’t say anything as she tucked the blanket around me and slid the mask over my head. “Try to sleep again. It will make the time go by faster.” She smiled before sliding the silk over my eyes.
I wasn’t tired anymore, so I put my earbuds in and listened to music until I eventually drifted off from boredom. We landed with a jolt. It felt like the plane wasn’t going to stop in time, and the noise was horrific until we slowed down to driving speed.
Lincoln applauded quietly. “You did it.”
“Don’t jinx it. We’re not standing in the airport yet.”
“I think it’s cute that you are so very uncool about flying.”
Self-conscious that she already knew the most embarrassing thing about me, I decided my only hope for saving face was a little self-deprecating humor. “What are you talking about? That was me being cool. Uncool would have been me lying in the fetal position, crying.”
She didn’t laugh. She just studied my face with curiosity. “You smile more when you’re drunk.”
I nodded with a big, stupid grin on my face, not because I was actually drunk. I was feeling high because I survived. “What time is it?”
She checked her phone. “Well, it’s just past seven in the morning in L.A. which makes it just after six o’clock at night here.”
I folded the blanket. “Did you sleep?”
“No. I’m scared to sleep around strangers. One time, a guy took photos of me sleeping on a plane and he posted them on the internet with photoshopped drool and snoring audio. Another time, I woke up to some
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