Page 40 of I Blame the Alcohol

Small planes of every colour blind me as we enter the wing saved purposefully for people with enough money to avoid commercial flying altogether.

People like Mo and Stella, apparently.

“Do you always travel this way?” Awe seeps into my voice as I take in the shiny aircrafts, my aerospace and aviation knowledge desperately lacking as I gaze, dazed, upon all the different styles of entry-level jets.

“This is my first time flying out of Lethbridge, but yes, father is a majority shareholder in a couple of airline companies.”

There’s a slight grimace with Stella’s response, as if discussing the degree of her family’s wealth isn’t something she's comfortable with.

“Oh.”

A tow bar passes us by with a bright orange plane attached to the end. The spoiler hanging off the plane is easily the same size as my car.

Stella bites her lip, momentarily distracting me from the displays of wealth wheeling by.

“Did Mo never tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“That we’re…”

“Stella!” The man stationed in front of a beautiful blue and white stripped plane steps forward with a huge smile and a bushy grey moustache.

“Uncle Johnson!”

An equally bright smile takes over Stella’s face as they meet in an embrace. “It’s been way too long. How are the pups holding up?”

“Oh, the old girls are doing just fine. Still getting spoilt like there’s no tomorrow.”

“Aunt Jose?”

“Even more spoilt than the dogs.”

Stella throws her head back and laughs, looking more carefree than I’ve ever seen her.

Johnson shakes his head, watching his niece with blatant adoration, “I’ve missed you, my dear. How is university treating you?”

“It’s been a really great experience. My roommate is the loveliest girl, I think she might even be my soul sister.”

Johnson chuckles, his crisp uniform crinkling as he bends down to collect Stella’s suitcase.

“That is something your mother would say. I am so pleased to hear…”

“It’s nice to watch, isn’t it?” Mo’s voice drags my attention from the family reunion. The look on his face is one I’ve never seen before. It’s not jealous exactly, it’s almost… wistful.

“You two aren’t close?” I ask the question, watching for a reaction.

“Oh, we are but we got the chance to catch up on the way here.”

Mo nods his head towards his sister who is still chatting away without a care in the world, “She’s not like that with everyone. It takes a lot for her to open up.”

I glance back at Stella, her long braid falling past mid-back as she happily helps Johnson store the luggage in the plane’s undercarriage. Her puffy winter jacket hides any trace of the fitness model underneath but suddenly my mind is back at the gym when I accidentally spotted her tattoo.

A tattoo she never once mentioned.

I wouldn’t flatter myself by saying Stella and I are close, but I’ve never considered Stella and me to be… well, notnotclose.

We’re friends, definitely, but besides being regular gym buddies, how well do I really know her?

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