by Ellie Cahill
“I’m B10,” he said. “I’ll save you a seat.”
I turned with a grin. “B2,” I said. “I’ll save the seat.”
He shook his head, but his lips were curved with admiration. “Of course you’re ahead of me.”
“I set an alarm to check in exactly 24 hours before my first flight.”
“Of course you did.” He cupped the back of my neck and pulled me in to plant another kiss on my forehead. “That’s my Mary.”
Hoo boy. I had no idea how to interpret the signals he was giving out. I would have sworn he nearly kissed me back at the other gate. And now a second kiss on the head? Were those the kind of affectionate kisses you’d give your adorable little sister, or something else entirely? I really really hoped I wasn’t giving out a sister vibe. We held eye contact for too long, both smiling, and that didn’t clear things up for me either.
I had to get a hold of myself. There was no way I was going to keep my crush a secret if I kept gazing at him like a girl in the front row of a K-Pop concert. What I needed was facts, not more fuel for my imagination to churn up while I was alone and lonely.
The gate agent called for B group to line up and we had to separate long enough to get our boarding passes scanned. There were too many people between us to maintain any communication, but my mission was clear: Find two seats together on the crowded plane. I had to go past the wings before I found an open window seat and I slithered into the row, trying to take up as much room as possible while I waited for Jake to join me.
He made it to me quickly, before anyone had even tried to take a seat in my row. Then we began the usual awkward dance of trying to get comfortable in a plane seat. Which is probably not actually possible outside of first class, but of course we had to try.
And then it was time to show off a little bit of my personal brand of crazy. It was definitely not going to make me look cool, sophisticated, or sexy, but it had to be done. I was going to have to risk it, and just hope he’d be willing to ignore this particular quirk.
“Okay, I’m about to do something that is…a little strange. Just go with it, okay?”
“What?” Jake sounded amused.
My cheeks got hot, but I wasn’t about to back down. “Do you know how dirty planes are? They are ground zero for epidemics.” I pulled out a pack of bleach wipes, and wrapped one over my fingers while I unlocked the tray table to clean the other side.
“Yeah, I know, but—”
“You’ll thank me when you don’t have the flu in Mexico.” Without asking, I unlocked his tray table for a cleaning, then leaned across him to wipe the handle on the window shade.
“I am sitting next to a crazy person,” he said affectionately.
“You’re sitting next to a nurse, who just happens to want to enjoy her vacation, thank you very much.” I moved on to the armrests, then plunged my hand into the gap between us to find the seatbelt buckles. I finished with a swipe across the vinyl edge of the seat pockets. “There.”
“You sure?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Sure you don’t want to put on one of those orange plastic suits?” He imitated covering his head with a huge protective hood.
“Look, you might think I’m crazy, but I’m not going to catch some Asian bird virus or ebola and ruin this trip. And now neither are you.”
“Jesus, that’s adorable.” He laughed.
The heat in my cheeks intensified, and I quickly tucked my bleach wipe into the corner of the seat pocket. “Can we…can we just pretend I didn’t do that?”
Jake shook his head. “Absolutely not. In fact, I’m going to remember that for the rest of my life.”
I groaned.
“Why wouldn’t I want to remember that? That was the most Mary thing I’ve ever seen.”
Great. What I really needed right now was to be sure of Jake’s feelings—or lack of feelings—for me. I needed to know where I stood with him so he could get out of my head and I could move on to a real relationship that would lead to a real wedding and a real marriage and a real life. I wanted less hypotheticals and possibilities in my life.
Yo-yoing from potential kisses in the airport, to getting laughed at for my cleaning neuroses was not going to clear things up for me. Did he want me or did he think I was a cute little sister type?
It would have been nice if I’d had a few minutes to put myself together at the airport so I’d at least know he was seeing the real me to get an honest assessment. I’d hoped to be looking my best, and not act like a complete idiot when I saw him. I wanted to be calm, cool, collected, and beautiful when he saw me for the first time. In my mind, I’d look like an Instagram model strolling through the airport. Jake would see me, and his reaction would tell me everything I needed to know.
Cut to reality, where I was sitting on a plane and my hair looked exactly like you’d expect hair to look when you wake up early and spend the day traveling. And my skin had more of a washed out, pasty look from the fluorescents overhead, and the only scents in the air were recycled breath of a hundred other people and the bleach on my hands.
Curse you, air travel. How is a girl supposed to be IG-worthy under these conditions?!
But the trip had just started, right? Maybe I could get all this unflattering light and revealing of weird cleaning rituals out of the way. The beach still lay ahead of us. There was a chance I might get my fantasy to come to life. A chance I could work my way up from the negative numbers.
Beside me, Jake was fidgeting with his earphones. He glanced at me a couple of times, and said, “Mary…before we’re back with everyone else, I think maybe we need to talk about—”
“Is this seat taken?” An older man was at the end of our row, pointing at the vacant seat beside me.
“No,” I said, trying to offer him a smile even though my heart was pounding.
“Wonderful.” He sighed as he collapsed into the seat. Breathing fast and heavy, he attempted to make himself comfortable, which seemed to involve a lot of invading my space. He leaned into me over and over as he wrestled his carry-on under the seat in front of him, then searched around for the ends of his seatbelt. I found myself crowding the armrest between Jake and me as I tried to avoid knocking heads with the man. Jake ended up putting the armrest up between us for a bit more room.
Finally the man seemed satisfied and he sat back with another gusty sigh. “So, you kids going to Mexico?”
“Mmm hmm.” Wasn’t the entire plane going to Mexico?
“You been before?” he asked.
“Not to Cancun,” I said, because it seemed like practically everyone in Southern California has been across the border at least once.
“Oh you’ll love it,” he said. “My wife and I go every year.” He emphasized his last words with a pointed finger jabbing into his opposite palm.
“Is that right?” Jake asked, with a tone that clearly indicated to me he wasn’t actually interested in the answer.
“Absolutely. You gonna go to the ruins?”
“I’m not sure,” I said.
His eyes went wide with surprise. “You gotta see the ruins. Trust me. There’s a guy who does a tour…now what’s his name? I should ask my wife, she’ll remember.” He twisted in his seat, peering into the aisle to look for his wife. “Lucy! What’s the name of that guy—? …The guy who does the tour!” Abruptly he turned back to me. “She can’t hear me. She’s losing her hearing. I’ll just go ask her…” And before I could protest, he had his seatbelt off and he was working his way toward his wife’s seat.
Panic made me act without overthinking. I turned to Jake, and demanded, “What did you want to talk about?”
“I—” Jake craned to look for the older man. “It can wait.”
“No, no. Just tell me.” I let out a strangled laugh. “You know you can tell me anything.”
His eyes were still trained down the aisle, and now he winced. “Not right now.”
Seconds later, the old man was back, dropping into his sea
t gracelessly, and announcing. “She says his first name is Raul. Can’t remember the last name.”
“Oh, well, um…”
“You tell the people at your tour desk you want Raul to take you to the ruins. They’ll know who he is.”
I found it a little hard to believe there was only one Raul running tourists around Tulum, but I smiled anyway. “Okay, thanks.”
I was practically exploding with the need to know what Jake wanted to talk about, but he was right, there was no way we could have a private conversation with this chatty man in our row. He seemed harmless. Just one of those friendly old men who loves to talk to anyone willing. But god I wished he’d picked another row.
The flight attendant got on the PA to tell everyone to take their seats as quickly as possible. I shot a look at Jake, wishing I could read his thoughts. He gave me a small smile and patted my knee twice.
What on earth was that supposed to mean?
6
Homocidal Thoughts at 30,000 Feet
For an agonizing hour, I made small talk with the man seated next to me. Turned out, his name was Phil, and he was from Utah. I learned a lot about Phil and his wife Lucy. I saw pictures of all their grandkids, and heard about all their travels. He really was a very sweet man, and he’d been a lot of interesting places. But I have never wanted someone to spontaneously evaporate so much in my entire life.
There was Jake, less than a centimeter away from me, and I could barely say a word to him.
Then, blessedly, Phil from Utah nodded off. First his breath slowed, and I wasn’t sure he was asleep. But then he started to snore gently and I almost burst into tears with relief.
I turned to Jake, and whispered, “He’s asleep!”
“Thank god.”
“What did you want to talk to me about?”
“What, now?” He looked startled.
“You said before we were with everyone else.”
“What about your new best friend there?” He tipped his head toward Phil.
“He’s asleep.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I hissed. “And I don’t know how long that’ll last, so can you just tell me? Please?”
“Oh, um…I just…I mean we haven’t seen each other in person since…” he gestured like I should know what he meant.
“Since…you moved to Chicago?” I supplied.
“Yeah, but you know…before that. The night we all got really drunk…” he laughed nervously. “You remember, right?”
Only every millisecond. I had no chill. “I remember.”
“I just…we never really talk about that, and I thought we should, you know…clear the air or whatever.”
I had never heard him so nervous. He was going to school to be a psychologist for heaven’s sake. I hoped he wasn’t this hesitant with clients. I didn’t want to give too much away and make him more anxious, so I went with a bland reply. “Sure. That sounds smart.”
“I, um, I just didn’t want you to think that I thought that night changed anything.”
My heart sank. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you know…I want you to know you can feel safe around me. I’m not going to…try anything.”
“You’re not?” Oh god, did I sound as disappointed as I felt? No. Chill.
“Of course not. You’re…we’re friends, and just because you’re a girl—woman, or female, or whatever—”
I had to cut him off. “Or whatever? I’m female, Jake. A woman, or girl if you want.”
“No, I know that!” He rubbed his palms over his thighs in frustration. “God, why am I fucking this up so bad?”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I’m just joking with you.”
He let out another nervous laugh. “Right. I just meant that just because we…”
“Made out?” I suggested.
“I hate that phrase. But yeah, sure. Made out.”
“Hooked up?” I tried.
“That’s worse. And we did not hook up, just so we’re clear.”
“Kissed?” My heart was pounding so hard it was making my vision pulse.
He held his breath a second before exhaling the word, “Yeah. That, and…you know, you in your underwear and all that.”
“You were in your underwear, too!” I protested. This entire ridiculous conversation was done in a raspy whisper to avoiding waking our seat mate.
“Yeah, but no one cares about my underwear,” he said.
“I do,” I said before I could stop myself.
Jake looked at me with a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Anyway, I just figured I should tell you that you don’t have to worry about that. I know we were both really drunk and I want you to think that I expect…anything to happen again.”
“Okay.” I nodded, but I couldn’t look at him. Here was my moment, served up on a platter. He was telling me in almost plain English that we were not going to be a thing. I was free to move on. I just had to tell him we were on the same page. All I had to do was make the words come out of my mouth.
The sudden appearance of the flight attendant nearly sent me out of my seat. I’d been so fixated on our hushed discussion I hadn’t even noticed they were coming up the aisle collecting trash. My hands shook as I gathered my tiny plastic cup and napkin to hand over.
Startling me wasn’t all she accomplished, though. Far worse was that she woke Phil.
“Guess I nodded off there, huh?” Phil stretched, his big elbow invading my space once more. I leaned away to avoid getting hit, bumping my head on Jake’s shoulder for my efforts.
As if his nap hadn’t happened, Phil went back to chatting with us. Well, me mostly, as the white noise of the plane made it hard for Jake to participate in the conversation. My palms grew sweaty the longer Phil went on about the Caribbean cruise he’d taken with his whole family. I felt like my left side was going to burst into flames from its mere proximity to Jake.
He’d given me my entrance on a platter and the farther we got from that conversation the less I felt sure I could get us back there again. My opportunity was slipping away and it was all the flight attendant and Phil’s fault. I fidgeted in my seat and tried not to check my phone for the time. It was worse, far worse, than being at my clients’ bedsides when they weren’t in the mood to talk.
Eventually, Phil announced that he was taking a trip to the restroom. Somehow I managed to keep myself from shouting, “Thank god!” out loud as he struggled to his feet. My pulse kicked into high gear as I waited for the older man to be out of earshot.
Now. I had to do it now or I might never get another chance.
I whirled to face Jake and blurted out, “Just so you know I wasn’t worried about something happening between us.”
I watched his face as he sorted through my words. It took a moment. I couldn’t even guess at how much time had passed since we’d been interrupted. But even allowing for that, a part of me was convinced he was just searching for a way to let me down easy.
Finally, he blinked hard and stammered, “Um…good?”
What did that mean? I ran over what I’d said, realizing how vague I’d been. “I…I meant, I wouldn’t have been offended.” No! That was so weak. This was not what I planned at all! I rushed to add, “I mean it would have been okay. Not that I wanted—or, I mean, not that I thought you—oh god, you’re not trying to tell me you have a girlfriend are you?”
Now he looked confused. “What? No, of course I—don’t you think I would have mentioned that?”
“Maybe?” I shrugged. “Or maybe you thought I’d be upset? I don’t know.” My cheeks were officially on fire. I was screwing this up so hard. I could not have done a worse job.
“I would have told you.” Jake sounded defensive. “Wait, do you have a boyfriend you haven’t told me about?”
“No!” Now that he’d said it, I could understand his reaction to me asking. “No. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t—god, I’m such an idiot. Never mind. Can we just—let’s add this to the things we’re goi
ng to pretend I didn’t do, okay?”
“Which part?” he asked.
“What?”
“Am I supposed to pretend you didn’t ask me if I secretly have a girlfriend, or…the other part?”
He couldn’t even say it. I guessed it was time to kiss my passionate declaration fantasies good bye. “Both?” I suggested.
“Then no.” He shook his head.
“Why not?”
“I can ignore the girlfriend question, but the rest?” He shook his head.
“Jake…”
And of course Phil chose that moment to get back to his seat. I could have strangled the man. He had no idea what he was interrupting, obviously, but that didn’t lessen my urge to throw things at him. Couldn’t he have taken two extra minutes in the bathroom? Could he not sense the tension in row 22? Read the room, Phil!
But Phil either didn’t notice or didn’t care that the entire world was hanging in the balance for me right at the moment. He started talking once more. This time it was about what we might be flying over right now, and how much longer our flight would last. It wouldn’t be long now, according to Phil. I’d feel the plane begin to descend, he said.
Jake must have hit his limit with the interruptions. He didn’t seem to care that Phil was chattering away. He leaned close enough that I felt his breath on my cheek when he spoke near my ear. “What did you mean?”
I shook my head. “Never mind. I was rambling.”
“Mary.”
I shook my head again.
“I don’t understand.”
How was I supposed to explain this? How do you invite someone to make a move on you without sounding like you’re asking them to? Ugh.
It was my turn to lean in close and put my mouth practically against his ear. “All I meant was you never have to worry. If you were…expecting things. I would never have gotten upset with you.”
He nodded.
Phil patted my forearm at that moment. I schooled my features in something I hoped was non-murderous as I turned to him.
“Excuse me, dear, but you wouldn’t happen to have a piece of chewing gum, would you?” Phil did an exaggerated bit of jaw movement. “My ears are popping.”
