It was a testament to how sleep-deprived I was that it took me as long as it did to understand what had happened. I was at my gate, staring at the paper in my hand and the nonsensical seating assignment, when it hit me.
“Wait, 4B?” I whispered. “That’s…”
Oh, holy hell. Was that first class? Business class? I wasn’t familiar with how these things worked, but I’d flown enough to know I was not on a front-of-the-plane budget.
The ticket agent definitely hadn’t felt sorry enough for me to stick me in first class. And my bank account didn’t have any charges besides the pack of gum I’d bought from the convenience shop after passing through security.
It couldn’t have been…
Surely not…
The tall guy? Could he have bought my ticket?
I took my glasses off and scrubbed my eyes, rubbing harder than was advisable to stop fresh tears from falling. Was this real life?
I looked around the seating area, but he was nowhere in sight. Even if he was, what would I have said? If he had been the one to buy my ticket, I might’ve ended up clinging to him like aspider monkey while sobbing my eyes out, making both of us feel awkward.
Since I’d humiliated myself enough for one day, it was better for everyone he wasn’t around.
So, this is business class?
A plush seat in my own little pod. The flight attendant informed me my seat would transform into a bed if I wished, and oh, did Iwish. Then again, I almost didn’t want to miss a second of this experience. Heaven knew I wouldn’t be flying in this style again.
I was looking through the bag of amenities while sipping a mimosa when the passenger on the other side of the divider between our seats arrived. If he’d been shorter, I probably wouldn’t have noticed him, but his curly hair and extreme height gave him away.
My heart in my throat, I pressed my back against my seat like I could hide. Why? I had no clue. Only now that he was here, I was deeply embarrassed for having accepted this extreme act of kindness. Not to mention, I was already scarfing down warm nuts and champagne.
My heart tried to break free when the divider began lowering, revealing lively eyes and perfect teeth.
“Hi,” I squeaked.
“Hey.” His eyes crinkled. “Would you rather, every time you sneezed, that water gushed from your nose like a firehose, or you shot ten pretzel rods from each nostril?”
I froze, scrambling to understand what he’d just asked. Then I made an inhuman noise mixing between a laugh, a snort, and a death rattle.
“Is death an option?” I asked.
“Nope. You must choose one.”
“Pretzel rods, then. Everyone likes pretzels.”
He nodded. “That’s my answer too. Though I was thinking of the cleanup, not how popular nose pretzels would make me.”
I scrunched my nose, not sure I wasn’t dreaming this conversation. “True. Gushing gallons of water would be inconvenient, especially with my allergies.”
“Pollen is devil dust, right?”
I made another sound, this one closer to an actual laugh. “That’s an apt description, for sure.”
He stuck his hand out. “I’m Ben.”
His hand was bigger than my head. Maybe bigger than any hand in the history of hands. I slipped mine into it, and it was portaled into another dimension where everything was warm and comfy.
“Hi, Ben. I’m Mazzy.”
He didn’t let go of my hand right away. “Mazzy? Is that a nickname?”
“Yes. The name on my birth certificate is Masha, but only because my papa convinced my dad I needed a name to fall back on in case I got tired of explaining Mazzy to every new person I met. No one has ever called me anything other than Mazzy, though. Well…except on the first day of school. I often forget about Masha.”
