“New York. For the Pride parade.” I get giddy thinking about it. “I’ve always wanted to go.”
He smiles as his expression becomes quizzical. “They don’t have Pride festivals in the UK?”
“They do. Most cities have them. But the one in New York looksamazing.”
“It is. You’ll enjoy it.”
My eyes almost bug out of my head. “You’ve been?”
“Every year.”
“Wow.”
“But you won’t get to go if you don’t board,” he says.
My pulse races again. “I?—”
“Deep breaths.”
I nod and do as instructed. My eyes are prickling with tears. I’m a fool.
“You’ll be fine,” he says. “Tell the flight attendants you’re a nervous flyer and they’ll take care of you.” He gestures to the dwindling line. “We’d better go, before they close the gate.”
Despite my fear, I want to be a good boy for this kind, handsome stranger and get on the plane. Only my feet won’t move, and my breathing is getting ragged again.
He increases the pressure of his fingertips against my pulse point. “How about I go and tell them you’re a nervous flyer?”
“You’d— You’d do that?”
“If it would help?”
I nod uncertainly.
He takes my arm and guides me to the nearby seating. “Wait here.” He gives me a firm, commanding look. “Don’t run away. You can do this—?” He raises his voice as though asking a question.
It takes me a moment to realize he’s waiting for me to tell him my name. “Tyler. Uh, most people call me Ty.”
He grins. “Great to meet you, Ty. I’m Emmet.”
Emmet. His name is as beautiful as he is. I concentrate on keeping my breathing calm, while he goes over to the air stewards. Almost everyone is on board now, so I have to get on, or I’ll hold the whole flight up. Why did I think this was a good idea? Why did I let my parents talk me into to this trip?
I was excited at first. But the closer it got to boarding, the more terrified I became. Mum drove me to the airport and waited with me until Ihadto go through security. Since then, I’ve been getting increasingly worked up. This was a terrible mistake.
I’m dimly aware of Emmet showing the air stewards his passport and boarding pass and then pointing at me, a smile on his face. I can’t hear what they’re saying, and I’m not sure why they’re having a protracted conversation. Surely all he needed to say was, ‘That’s Tyler. He’s having a panic attack about boarding the plane. Be nice to him, okay?’ Or something along those lines.
One of the air stewards, a woman who’s probably only a couple of years older than me, comes over and sits beside me. “Hi, I understand you’re a bit nervous about flying with us today?”
I glance at Emmet, who smiles at me encouragingly, before heading onto the sky bridge. I guess that’s the last I’ll see of him.
I nod miserably in answer to the air steward’s question.
“Believe it or not, I used to be nervous about flying too,” she says.
I blink at her. “You did?”
“Yes. Would it help if I came to check on you periodically during the flight?”
“Uh, I guess.”
