“Nah, I’m good.” He looked pained by the suggestion.
“Oh, okay.” My smile faltered. Why was this so weird?
Harrison opened his sketchbook and started drawing. When it became clear he wasn’t trying to engage in any additional conversation, I placed my noise-cancelling headphones over my ears and pressed play on some random movie.
Two hours into the flight, and none of the movies I tried did anything to distract me.
Harrison had been bent over his sketchbook the entire time, not so much as looking up even when I glanced over.
I wiped my clammy hands against my sweats. The air in the cabin tasted especially stale. Every moment of progression toward our end destination made me feel heavier, as the weight of all the unsaid words finally caught up with me.
Had I been naïve to think we had anything real? It wasn’t like I was the first person in the world to be temporarily blinded by a vacation romance. I had been convinced it was more than that, but with every passing second, the person sitting next to me felt more and more like a stranger. It was absolutely not what I wanted, but I felt powerless to stop it.
When the meal service came by and we were served our food, he finally glanced my way. I shot him a smile. He smiled back, but barely, and it looked uncomfortable and forced.
We ate our overly salty trays of food in silence. I almost wished we were back in coach so at least our elbows would occasionally bump into each other while we cut up our lunch.
I should say something, but what? It would just be weird now.
So we sat in silence for the remainder of the eight-hour flight.
I never thoughtI’d be so happy to see the Denver airport once we landed and deplaned. The silence had been suffocating. Harrison’s brows were drawn together and his gaze was locked ahead.
“It’s good to be back,” I said in what might be the most pathetic attempt at conversation in the history of humanity.
He looked at me as if surprised to hear my voice. “Oh, yeah.”
We breezed through customs, and before I knew it, we were back in the main terminal. Down that escalator right in front of us was the TSA line where we had first run into each other, before this whole thing started.
Suddenly it felt like no time had passed, like we were in some weirdTwilight Zoneepisode and the trip had never actually happened. The only evidence that it had was my pounding heart and Harrison’s expression of concern. He no longer scowled at me. Now he just looked lost. I wanted to hug him, but he felt miles away.
“Are you taking the train?” he asked at the same time I said, “I parked in the garage.”
I laughed uncomfortably as he scratched the back of his neck.
“You drove?” he asked.
“Yeah. Do you want a ride?” I offered. I wasn’t sure whether I wanted him to say yes or if I wanted a little space to breathe.
“Don’t worry about it.” He shook his head and hitched his finger in the direction of the train platform. “The train goes right by my place. I don't want you to go out of your way.”
I felt a stab of disappointment. I guess even with the awkwardness, deep down I wasn’t ready to walk away from him.
I forced myself to smile and swallowed down any weird energy.
“I guess this is it, then.” I meant it as a joke, but as soon as the words were out of my mouth I became terrified that they held a grain of truth.
His face contorted into an odd expression, as if he desperately wanted to say something but couldn’t get it out. He was standing next to me, so he reached around my shoulders and pulled me in for a side hug.
A side hug.
“I’ll call you,” he said.
“Uh huh,” I choked out.
I gave him a little wave before scurrying away as fast as my legs would carry me.
There was traffic, so my ride home gave me the perfect opportunity to hyper-fixate on every beat of the strange interaction Harrison and I had just shared.
