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“Well, we’ll advance up the line until it’s our turn. After that, we’llpull out onto the runaway where it will feel like we’re parking but we’re not really. The pilots are doing their thing and before you know it, we’ll be speeding down the runaway until we lift off.” A smile spread over his face.
“What does that feel like?”
“Amazing.” Awave of serenity settled over him. Clearly, he was not bothered by flying. “It gets this little lift, and you feel a wave of butterflies in the pit of your stomach.” His hands tickled his mid-section. “Like when you go over a bump too fast.”
That helpedeven if I didn’t like the sensation.
“You’ll also get pushed back into your seat, but only until we reach cruising speed. Then you can move a little easier. Takeoffs are my favourite.”
I wasn’t sure how to prepare for all of what he said, soI tightened my body in anticipation. Inhaling sharply, I held my breath if for no other reason than to try and control my heartrate. Despite his soothing inflections, my heart suddenly pounded faster than if I’d run away from an overbearing foster father.
“Are you frightened?”
Slowly, I shook my head and snorted out my breath, sounding like a fire-breathing dragon.“Flying is the least of my concerns.”
Instead, my thoughts turned to my so-called friends.
Would they miss me? Unlikely.
Did they even notice I had left? Doubtful. I hadn’t seen hide nor hair of them since the accident.
It had been seven long, painful days since my violent awakening, only to learn that in my most desperate hour, I had once again failed and was truly alone.
Chapter Three
The plane engines roared to power and with the burst, I was sucked back into my seat as we raced down the runway at full throttle. A heartbeat later, we were in the air, going over the metaphorical speed bump, and a fresh wave of butterflies fluttered in my gut. The sensation was enough to put a temporary smile on my face.
“See, it’s not so bad. And it only lasts a few seconds.”
And it wasn’t. I enjoyed the internal tickles and seeing the roadways of Toronto outlined in the glow of orange; the streetlights getting smaller the higher we climbed. The height wasn’t as bad as I’d predicted, and I found myself breathing a little easier. Overall, the view was truly quite spectacular.
My exhale was quiet, and I felt as light as a bird. “You were saying?”
“Thatit’s not so bad.”
I laughed and tipped my head back further while allowing the blood to flow back into my ghost-white hands.
As Holden weighed whatever he was going to share, I took the opportunity to really check him out. Long gone were the thick glasses and scraggly monkey arms he had yet to grow into. Instead, he’d filled out nicely, broad shoulders and, well, normal-length arms. He was clean cut, with a preppy hairstyle parted on the side and his floppy waves long since trimmed and tamed. His face was devoid of facial hair, as if he’d shaved five minutes before stepping on the plane, or maybe it never really grew in. The dark green sweater was a nice cable variety, clearly not from the sale rack at Walmart. It had a more luxurious sheen to it, like it was ripe for a snuggle and wouldn’t rough up the cheeks, and his jeans were free of holes. Probably paid more for those two articles of clothing than all the belongings I had cost in total.
But it was his eyes which commanded most of my attention. I’d never before seen a shade of green that hue. It wasn’t bright, or dull, but like a dark moss colour. Almost as soothing to look into as it was to hear the soft inflections in his voice.
Holden cleared his throat, and I shook myself free from whatever ghost of a daydream had settled over me.
The plane felt as though it were leveling out and tipping forward, and I quickly looked out the window for confirmation of how high we were. Everything was dark, and no landmarks were visible. Flying was really something.
I blinked a couple of times and focused again on the man beside me. I could sit in arrested silence, like I pretty had over the past week, or I could attempt to swallow a teensy bit of my remaining pride and engage in small talk.
“Tell about thisprestigiousjob waiting for you. How’d you get it?”
Like I’d asked the stupidest question, he responded with a trite reply, but a smug smirk. “Hard work, dedication.”
“Have you graduated from university?” I inhaled sharply as we pitched forward.
Back in the day, and one of the reasons Holden was picked on was because he was two years younger than we were, all thanks to his incredibly high IQ. He was light years ahead of us and likely started post-secondary ages ahead of the rest of our peers too.
“Yes.”
Curiosity overtook me. “When?”
