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Violet
I hate airplanes.I’m told they are safer than cars but I think that’s bull. There’s no way a flying death machine can be safer than something on the ground. If my best friend hadn’t insisted on getting married halfway across the country, I wouldn’t have to think about this. I tried to convince my friends to drive with me but they were not feeling an almost thirty-nine hour drive.Lame.
“You okay?” Grant asks, touching my shoulder gently. My eyes are closed but I peek one open to nod at him.
“Is she okay?” Grace asks from across the aisle. They all knew my fear of flying but they had never seen it in action. Four years of college and I had persuaded them to drive to Florida each time we took a vacation.
“She’s all right,” Grant answers but I can tell he’s worried. He’s been stuck to my side since we stepped foot in the airport. He had brought a sleeping pill that I fully intended to take, until I woke up sick to my stomach today. The last thing I wanted was to get sick in my sleep or something.
“Did I pack my sleep mask?” Kate asks anxiously from behind us. I hear her ruffling through her carry on bag.
“It’s on the outside left pocket,” I say without opening my eyes again.
“Ah! Thanks, babe!” she says happily. “See, this is why Violet is my maid of honor,” Kate adds to no one in particular.
Kate and I have been best friends for as long as I can remember. Neither of us can remember how we met except that it was in college. We became best friends, roommates, and now I am her maid of honor. I am fully prepared to make sure this wedding goes off without a hitch.Except their getting hitched, haha get it?
Clearly this altitude is getting to me.
Kate doesn’t have any family and Austin’s aren’t exactly on board with the wedding. So I have made it my mission to make sure everything else she wants is perfect. Which is why I am swallowing my deep rooted fears and roughing it on this plane. She wanted the five of us plus a few other friends to be there, but we are making the weekend of us. It is only Thursday and we have wedding fun planned all weekend.
The man next to me starts snoring and I wonder once again why flying is the preferred way of traveling. Kate and Austin had lucked out sitting next to each other, even Grace and Harry are in a row to themselves, but Grant and I are stuck next to this stranger. I suppose he isn’t the worst person I could be sitting next to, although I should’ve brought some earplugs.
“Only four more hours,” Grant whispers. I know he’s trying to be helpful but that might be the worst thing I’ve ever heard.
“Ugh,” I groan.
“Can we talk about the wedding? Did you decide if you want to share a room?” he adds quietly.
I’m grateful that at this moment my eyes are closed. Grant and I have been friends for a while, but at some point last year we took that inevitable step when all your friends are together and hooked up. It was good, so we continued and stayed friends with benefits. We scratch each other’s itch and it is safe. We are both in grad school and way too busy to date. But lately, Grant has been hinting that he wants more than that from me.
I like him and he is a good guy. He is sweet and great in bed, but there is something holding me back. I don’t entirely know what, but I can’t commit until I figure out what it is. So I have been trying to keep my emotional distance and not cross any new boundaries that may give him the wrong idea.
I’m about to let him down gently, that I’d like to keep my own room, when I get hit with a wave of nausea. I clamp my hand over my mouth and run to the bathroom a few rows away. I can hear my friends call after me worriedly but I don’t stop. Thankfully it’s empty and I empty my nonexistent breakfast down the airport toilet.
I groan, trying not to think about how I’m hunched over a toilet that god knows how many people have used. I throw up twice more before washing my hands and throwing some cold water on my face. There’s a light knock on the door.
“Occupied!” I groan. Hadn’t they seen me run in here?
“Violet? Are you okay?” It’s Grant. I sigh.
“I’m okay,” I lie. I feel like a hungover mess and I hate how the plane is rocking slightly. Do all airplanes do that?
“Do you need anything?” he asks through the door.
“No, I’m okay.” I can sense he’s torn but ultimately I hear him walk back to his seat.
I look in the mirror, I am never one to wear too much makeup so at least I don’t have to worry about that being messed up. My face looks pale and clammy, I thought I’d be able to hide this at least until after the wedding. Maybe I can pass it off as airplane sickness,is that even a thing?People can get carsick, after all.
My plan was to grab a test the moment I got back from the wedding, but I can tell I need one sooner than later. I’ll have to sneak away and grab one from the hotel or something, I mean it’s Vegas. They have to have pregnancy tests, right?
Dakota
When I agreedto be the photographer for Austin and Kate’s wedding, I didn’t realize it would be coming just after a whirlwind month of chaos.
But here I am, standing just outside the baggage claim of McCarrean International Airport, waiting for an Uber to take me to the hotel. Or is it Harry Reid Airport? I’ve seen both names, and I am too damn tired to give a damn. I am exhausted, having just flown in from New York after a week-long fashion shoot. I am more than ready to collapse into my king-sized suite.
I hop into the first taxi that pulls up, dragging my suitcase and camera bag in with me into the back seat. “The Palazzo at the Venetian Resort, please,” I ask the driver, my voice still filled with sleep. I watch the lights of Las Vegas go by with my head resting against the back of the seat. As much as I want to take it all in, I know I’ll have time to after getting some sleep.
