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I just wish he would smile or something, let that softness in his eyes translate onto his face a little bit.
He glances over at me and I realize I’ve been staring at him for way longer than is probably socially acceptable, so I smile and return my attention to the back of the seat in front of me, taking a deep breath through my nose and letting it out through my mouth, willing my body to calm itself.
This trip is going to be fine.
This trip is going to be fine.
This trip is going to be fine.
I click around on the little TV screen a bit, picking a few movies and marking them as favorites so I can watch them later. Fiona told me I should watch a movie the second I get on the plane so I can distract myself from takeoff, but as the plane lurches backward, away from the gate and out onto the tarmac, I let out a startled squeak. There is no way in hell my attention will be diverted.
The man sitting next to me shifts in his seat, and I settle on the thought that there is a way to distract myself. Boyd might be the strong, silent type, but I bet if I can find the right topic, he’ll loosen up in no time.
“So, Boyd, are you from Boston, or are you connecting from somewhere else?”
He turns to look at me, and there’s this little flutter in my chest when his eyes connect with mine.
It happened earlier, too, at the counter. When his gaze turned my way, it felt like I was in an elevator that suddenly dropped a foot. My stomach shot up and shoved my heart into my throat, punched a hole in my mind, and made my tongue trip over itself.
Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to be aware of the way my internal organs are having seizures.
“I’m from California,” is all he says. Then he returns his attention to his phone.
“Oh, cool,” I say, resting my elbow on the armrest between us and plopping my chin in my hand. “Were you in Boston for business or pleasure?”
He clears his throat, taking his time before he responds.
“I originally came to Boston to go to college. I like it here, so I just never left.”
“Wow,” I say, impressed at that mentality of wanting to brave the world at such a young age. “How amazing are you to venture off on your own when you were just figuring things out? I don’t know if I could have ever done something like that when I was eighteen. I mean, this is my first time on a plane and I’m twenty-four, so clearly the great adventurer I am not.” I snicker. “So where did you go to school?”
Another pause. “MIT.”
“Oh, wow!” I exclaim again, my eyebrows shooting up. “You must have a huge brain. I have a friend who’s getting his PhD there and he’s like, an absolute genius and a part of Mensa. So, yeah. That’s amazing.”
He looks like he enjoyed my compliment, but he doesn’t say anything else. Maybe he’s one of those men who struggles with knowing how to continue a conversation? I can help with that, definitely.
“So you graduated? What do you do now?”
He clicks his phone screen to black and lets out a sigh, resting his head against the seat and closing his eyes.
“I work with app developers, startup tech companies, stuff like that.”
I nod, even though he can’t see me.
“It must feel great to be doing something you’re so good at. Well, I guess I’m making an assumption that you’re good at it,” I add, laughing at myself. “But I’m also assuming you wouldn’t have a job doing it if you sucked. Is that what you always hoped to do? Is it, like, a dream come true to work in the tech field?”
His eyes open and he glances over at me then turns his attention to the screen on the seat in front of him. “Not really a dream come true, no, but it pays well.”
He pushes some buttons and the screen lights up, but I’m stuck on what he said: but it pays well.
“Well, at least there’s that,” I say. “So, if you weren’t doing a job just because it pays well…what would you do if you could do anything?” I ask, my voice kind of a whisper, my eyes wide with hope that he’ll share with me.
I know he’s technically a stranger. Well, okay, so not just technically. Literally—he is literally a stranger. And maybe it’s weird that I’m asking such a personal question when I just met him ten minutes ago, but one of my favorite things is hearing about people’s hopes and dreams, the things they want to accomplish that they worry are too big or too much for them to handle.
My roommate tells me all the time that I should be a professional encourager, although I’m not sure that’s a real job. If it were? I would be so great at it. My favorite part about hearing people share their ambitions is that I can encourage them, build them up, tell them they’re smart and amazing and worthy and they definitely have it in them to be and do whatever they want.
When Boyd looks back at me, I think I’m going to get that from him, this beautiful man I’ve just met on my very first plane ride. Maybe this will be a life-changing moment where I can encourage him and believe in him.
