Page 139 of Love Unavoidable
This has got to be the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. I start to sweat and swipe at my brow. I have yet to put the headphones on. The movie plays on the screen in front of me, but I can’t focus. I run my hand on my jeans and try to still my bouncing leg, then turn the knob above me so my air is on full blast.
Sigh.
That helps. A bit.
Who am I kidding? I’m not in the mood for a movie. It won’t help. I need to get there and get this over with, so I know where I stand. It’s the not knowing that kills me.
Fingers drum on my thigh, leg bouncing to an unnatural beat, sweat dripping down the sides of my face, heart rate increasing, eyes blinking . . .
“Oh. My. God. What?”
I turn as the young girl next to me speaks.
“What, what?” I ask.
“What is your problem?”
“I don’t know, I’m nervous.”
She rolls her eyes again. “What is it with grownups and their fear of flying? Look, if the plane crashes, it crashes. It’s all over so fast you’ll barely even realize it happened. It’s not like in the movies where we’ve got fully interconnected scenes of panic and chaos. We’ll just blow up. One second you’re here, the next . . . poof!” She brings her fingers together then flicks them out like a little explosion. “So, suck it up, buttercup.” She smirks and puts her headphones back on.
I tap her.
She pulls her headphones off. “What?”
“I’m not afraid of flying.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m not. I do daring shi . . . stuff all the time. Death doesn’t scare me.”
“Ok, then what’s got you all twisted?”
“I’m going to see my girlfriend. Or at least I hope she’s still my girlfriend.”
She throws her head back against the seat dramatically. “Oh god, that’s even worse than a fear of flying. Girl problems? Really? At your age?”
I chuckle. “At my age? How old do you think I am?”
She leans forward and looks me up and down. “Thirty-five.”
My eyes widen. “Uh, yeah. Good guess.”
She smirks again and leans back in her seat, then makes a come forward motion with her fingers. “Okay, fine, what’s your story.”
“I’m not going to tell you my story.”
“Don’t be lame. You’re obvi upset. If you don’t relax, I can’t relax. I’ve got to see my mother in a few hours and trust me, I need to be relaxed for that.”
My eyebrows raise. “How old are you?’
“Twelve.”
“And you need to be relaxed to see your mother? Shouldn’t you be more worried about, I don’t know, math homework or playingCandy Crush?”
She smacks a hand to her forehead and shakes it in disbelief.
Okay, then.
