He doesn’t. His pupils have shrunk to pinpricks, and he’s staring straight ahead at the entertainment screen on the back of the seat in front. By default, it’s showing the tail camera.
Gently, I lay my hand over his and stroke his clammy skin. “It’s fine. We’re pushing back right now, then we’ll taxi to the runway while we’re given a safety briefing. Do you think you could listen to that?”
He licks his dry lips and nods.
It’s important he listens, though I hope it doesn’t freak him out further. I keep stroking the back of his hand throughout thesafety briefing. When seatbelts are mentioned, he fumbles to put his on. His breathing becomes worse when oxygen masks and the brace position come up. He presses his head against the back of his seat, closes his eyes, and mutters something too quiet for me to hear.
“You were going to tell me about your hair,” I prompt, once the briefing is over.
He opens his eyes, but before he can speak, the plane accelerates sharply. Tears well in his eyes, and he grips the arms of the seat so hard that his knuckles turn white.
“Oh, god. Oh, god. Oh, god.” He squeezes his eyes shut, almost melding with the back of his seat as the plane takes off with a juddering roar.
“It’s fine,” I assure him.
There’s the familiar sensation of my stomach going out of sync with the rest of my body and my ears popping, and then we’re up, still climbing, but no longer shaking. Not that Ty looks any happier.
“You’ll be all right,” I say. “You’re being very brave.”
He cracks one eye open. “I’m not.”
“You’re here, aren’t you?”
He nods but still doesn’t seem convinced.
“Plus, you booked the flight in the first place.”
He grimaces. “Actually, I didn’t. My parents planned the whole trip for me. They even found somewhere for me to stay.”
“Oh? That was nice of them.”
He closes both his eyes again and speaks through gritted teeth, “They knew how much I wanted to go to the Pride march in New York, so they made it happen.”
“It sounds like you have wonderful parents.”
“They’re in the army, so they’re often away for long stretches of time. I think this is their way of making up for it.”
“You still live with them?”
“No. Not anymore. But I think they feel guilty for being in and out of my life. The son of one of their army buddies lives in New York with his partners, so they arranged for me to stay with them for a few days.”
“Partners?” Now I’m intrigued.
“Yeah. He has two: Zeke, who’s also an army brat, and Micah, who they met while they were travelling. He’s their Daddy.” His face flushes. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
Maybe not, but I’m glad he did. He’s sweet when he’s rambling nervously.
“They’re friends of yours?” I ask.
“Kinda. Sorta. Rett, Zeke, and I went to the same school and lived on the same base, but they’re three years older than me.”
“It’s nice of them to let you stay with them.”
He manages a half smile. “Yeah. Do you live in New York?”
“Brooklyn.”
“So, you’re going home?”
