Page 52 of Don't Look Down

There’s a group gathered near the counter. Based on the chaotic buzz of chatter, I label them as first timers. I wave hello to Winston, who appears to be busy with their paperwork. Hesends a chin lift my way and shouts over the noise, “Andrew’s getting his rig sorted in the packing area.”

“Thanks, Winnie,” I answer back just as loud, then salute him on my way through another set of double doors leading into the hangar. His scoff clearly reaches my ears as I exit the lobby with a smile on my face. He justlovesit when I call him Winnie. It’s his favorite nickname ever.

There are a few other guys in the packing area, but I spot Andrew pretty quick. His hair is a short mass of unruly bleached blonde curls, but natural black roots are quite visible. “Andrew! Hiiiii.” He briefly pauses folding up his parachute to glance up at me. A genuine smile takes over his face, and I can’t help but return it. God, I love this place. Euphoria is so close, I can practically taste it.

“Hey, Sky, glad you made it out.”

“Ohmigod, same. It’s been way too long, and I can’t wait to get out there. It’s busy in there, though. Do you need to assist, or are you good to take a few solo jumps?”

“We may have to alternate between the 182 and the Caravan. We have a few more groups booked, so I’m sure they’ll need me for a tandem or two,” he replies.

Andrew is one of the instructors here. Not only is it his job to teach newbies everything they need to know to safely jump, but he also gets to jump with them. He’s told me in past conversations that he averages between five to fifteen tandems a day. He’s living the adrenaline junkie’s dream.

If all goes well, I should get three solid jumps in. I cannot wait.

“Cool, cool. Sounds good to me. I’d offer to jump in and help, pun intended, but I know I’m too keyed up to have someone else strapped to my chest. It’s highly unlikely I’ll have the patience to help walk them through their nerves or any of that good stuff.I’m liable to snap someone’s head off if they delay my jump. Honestly.”

He laughs, but doesn’t deny it. My adrenaline withdrawals have gotten ugly in the past.

“Looks like we can manage a quick drop in the 182 and a repack before they’ll need me in the Caravan. How’s your rig?”

“Everything looked good yesterday, but I need another thorough check before I gear up.”

“Good man. Can never be too careful.”

I agree. Just because I’m an adrenaline junkie, doesn’t mean I’m reckless or have a death wish. Quite the opposite, actually. Living life fully is the aim.

And in order to do that, I shift my full focus onto my rig check routine. Main handle, cutaway handle, reserve handle, main pin, reserve pin, AAD all look good. The automatic activation device is vital in the event something goes wrong, and I don’t, or can’t, deploy my reserve canopy.

Once we’re sorted, we make our way over to the 182. It feels like my insides are vibrating. My pulse is faster and I’m feeling energized. Buzzing with excitement.

Landon would shit himself if he knew what I was up to. Gasp. Best idea ever. I’ll take some selfies to send to him later. With a trigger warning, of course, because I’m not insensitive to his phobia. But I want to share my joy with him. It’s a need. Pausing next to the small plane, I take a selfie.

Our pilot, Gary, reaches for my phone. “Gimme. Let me get a better one, Sky.”

He waits for me to pose then snaps the photo. Admittedly, his is better than mine. I can’t wait to send it to Landon. I won’t send them until much later on, though, just in case his anxiety is triggered. He has a game to focus on.

Andrew and I climb into the back of the plane and get settled on the floor. There aren’t any seats back here, since it’s beenmodified for the express purposes of being a jump plane. But space is limited. You can’t stand back here. Just sit or crouch.

Gary is in the cockpit running through preflight protocol. I shove my phone into the zippered pocket of my fitted athletic joggers. Once we hit altitude, I’ll take it out again for some more pictures.

During takeoff, I try to put myself in Landon’s shoes. Closing my eyes, I try to imagine the terror and panic he would be feeling if he were here. It’s almost impossible to fathom. I could almost crawl out of my skin with the excitement coursing through me. If I was standing up, I’d definitely be pacing right now. My mouth is doing the pacing for me. I’m word-vomiting a mile a minute. Nonsensical shit.

A hand on my thigh shuts me right up and draws my attention to the fact I’m jiggling my legs around like an antsy toddler.

What the fuck? His hand is a little higher than appropriate, in my opinion.

He’s never touched me like this before. “Excited, huh?” he asks with an odd huskiness in his tone, his eyes meeting mine.

“You bet. I can’t sit still. I feel like I could run laps right now.”

He laughs and leans back a little, releasing my leg. “You and me both. I’ll never get tired of this feeling. We’re alike in that way. It’s nice to have someone who understands.”

I smile and nod at him, brushing away the unease his touch and phrasing caused.See, Sky? Chill with the dramatics. He wasn’t being weird, just sharing the excitement with a friend who gets it. I’m obviously being oversensitive and reading too much into nothing. Making a mountain out of a molehill. Heismy friend. It’s fine.

Projecting my voice, I draw Gary into a conversation about the weather. Andrew joins, and luckily he keeps his hands to himself this time. We talk about how gorgeous the weather is,and how awful it’s been. Gary and Andrew lament over the “massive slump in business” it caused. Twenty minutesflyby with no more incidents and Gary informs us we’ve reached our target altitude of 10,000 feet.

Andrew scoots over and kneels to open the door. Cold wind rushes in. It’s close to forty degrees colder up here than on the ground. It’s fucking freezing. Jesus.

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