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“But it’s a good one.”
Us, here, in the shower is another temporary distraction. I can already feel the anxiety beginning to squeeze the life out of me. Trace steps forward to make me step backward, tilting my head back under the water as he rinses the shampoo out.
“Distract me, Trace,” I whisper. I don’t want to be consumed by anything but him right now.
He doesn’t say a word. He dips his head, kisses me, and proceeds to do what I’ve asked.
Every day of midterms was just a little worse than the day before. Trace helped me get through it, though. I swear, I don’t know what I would do without him. The best part of it all is he loves me. Trace Lexington loves me.
“What’s the smile for?” Trace asks, bumping my shoulder as we stand in line at security in the airport.
“I was just thinking about how you love me.”
Trace smiles his genuine breathtaking smile, but the moment is ruined when Rebecca says, “Barf. Don’t make me regret volunteering to be the third wheel.”
Trace throws an arm around both our shoulders. “Don’t worry, Rebecca. We’re a trio, not a duo with a sidekick.”
We laugh. The line starts moving, so we start shuffling along. If things can stay as good as they are right now, the trip will be a ton of fun. I’m crossing my fingers. We could all use a break after this past week. We make it through security all right, and when we’re waiting at the gate, Trace and Rebecca carry on a conversation. I like that they like one another. It always makes things like this easier and more pleasant. But while they’re talking, my eyes are looking around, scanning the place, and that’s when I realize something.
I’ve never been on a plane. What is it like? What’s the worst part o
f flying? It should be fun to find out, I think. Before I know it, we’re being called to board. My breathing hitches as we walk down and step onto the plane. The line stops as people put their luggage overhead.
“I changed my mind,” I blurt out. “I don’t want to go.”
Trace turns to look at me. “It’s too late.”
“What?” I squeak. “Why?”
The line starts moving again, and Trace grabs my hand to pull me along. “Do you trust me?” he asks over his shoulder.
Trust in Trace. Isn’t that supposed to be my life motto now? He places our carry-on above the seats and takes the seat by the window, leaving me with the middle and Rebecca with the aisle. God, now I’m trapped!
“I don’t know if I can do this.”
“You can,” Rebecca says.
How can my heart be beating so fast? I rub my hands along my legs because they’re clammy and yucky. I can’t do this. This plane is going to suck all the air out of the cabin and kill me. Or, it’s going to fall from the sky and crash and burn.
“Haven’t you flown before?” Rebecca asks.
“No.”
Trace leans down to search through my purse. “Do you trust me?” he repeats.
“Yes,” I grit. What does that have to do with whether or not we’ll survive this flight? “How long is the flight?”
“We’ll get there when we get there.” I do not like that answer. Trace finally pulls out the bag with my meds. He grabs the bottle with my panic pills, opens it, and lets two fall into his hand. “Take these to calm you down, and I’ll help you with the rest.” Once I’ve taken the two pills, he seems satisfied. “Buckle up.” We all do. “What, in particular, is bothering you, Britt?”
“I’ve never flown before. What’s going to happen? What will it feel like? What if something happens? Can you honestly see me reacting well in an emergency? I’ll die from panic!”
He unlatches my hand from my wrist to hold it in his lap. In a low voice, he starts to explain everything I can expect to happen and what taking off and landing will feel like. He still leaves out the length of the flight, and I find myself avoiding my ticket so I can’t see when we’ll land and figure it out. I’m on edge. The takeoff sucks, and I hate it. Being in the air sucks, and I hate that too.
“I’m not a fan of flying,” I mumble, ready for it to be over within thirty minutes of being in the air.
Trace chuckles, throws an arm around my shoulder, and tucks me into his side.
“Do you want to listen to my music?” Rebecca offers.
