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Turbulence
Natalie
As I was taking my seat, I saw him.
Walking down the aisle, a man, whose golden skin stretched immaculately over his well-sculpted body, and whose brown eyes and black hair offered the slightest contrast. He was tall—at least half a foot taller than I, from the looks of it—and assumed an almost intoxicating air of confidence, owing in no small part to the well-tailored suit he was wearing, despite a cross-country flight on a Saturday seeming to warrant no such dress code.
I pulled out my cell to see that Tala—my friend and the reason I was on this plane, heading to her wedding in Seattle—had texted me:Did u board the flight yet?
Yep, just now,I replied, before adding,Hot guy on plane, like SUPER hot
I saw Tala was typing, but as her reply came in I heard the seat next to me being pushed forward. As I was in the window seat, this was inconsequential; I had no obligation to look up or move aside. But something told me to turn and look in that moment, so I did; when I saw who was now seated directly next to me, I dropped my phone.
It was him.
He turned his head to look at me, then down to where my phone had fallen. Feeling kind of awkward, I stammered, “Sorry, I—you just… surprised me, is all.”
He redirected his gaze to me, raising an eyebrow. “Oh? Well, sorry about that.” Then, looking once more at where my phone had fallen, he said, “You should see what Tala wants.”
Anxiously I bent down and grabbed my phone, on which Tala’s reply glowed:GET IT GIRL!! Send a pic!Fortunately, the phone screen had fallen asleep, and so the earlier part of the conversation remained unbeknownst to him. Nonetheless, I stuffed my phone in my bag, nodded at him awkwardly, and turned to look out the window, where by now the sun was setting. I felt my face burning; if I’d had any chance of making a smooth impression on this beautiful man to begin with, I’d surely blown it. I heard him breathe as if preparing to say something else, but just then the flight attendants began their announcements, so the two of us sat there silently, inches apart, yet somehow much further.
Instinctively I pulled out my phone and earbuds, but before I started listening to music I opened Tala’s message and, still turned away from him, replied:Too risky—explain later.Then I put in my earbuds, selected a classical music playlist, and after a tiresome day of packing, repacking, and repacking again, found myself swept into a most welcome sleep.
I awoke feeling disoriented. After remembering where I was, I pulled out my phone to see how much time had passed: Thirty-five minutes.Damn—I probably won’t fall asleep again for the rest of the flight.Agitated, I lifted my right arm and brought it to the armrest.
As if by chance, my male companion, who was watching what looked to be a true crime documentary, mindlessly brought his left arm to the same armrest, and our elbows bumped. I was in a short-sleeve top, and since take-off the man had removed his blazer and rolled up his sleeves, revealing well-defined forearms. When our skin made contact, I felt something fire up my body like electricity. I felt hot, suddenly, but not in my face as before—somewhere else.
“I’m sorry!” I blurted out, as if he had somehow sensed the intensity of my reaction. But he hadn’t, or didn’t appear to have, for he only shook his head in dismissal.
“No need,” he said, removing his arm from the armrest. “It’s all yours.”
The plane was dark by this point, and so I couldn’t tell if it was just the reflection of the reading lights two rows in front of us, but I was almost certain he winked as he said this. But then he turned back to his documentary, and I immediately felt silly.Of course he didn’t—I mean, look at him!
The hotness abated, leaving in its wake a discomfort alerting me to the fact that I had to use the bathroom—I hadn’t gone since leaving my apartment that afternoon. I considered holding it, after all, this man had just relinquished the armrest to me, and how entitled would I seem if I made him get up not once, but twice so that I could pee? Besides, the person sitting in front of him, who was either very oblivious or very sadistic, had reclined their seat so far that he had to strain his neck to see the screen clearly.
“Is something wrong?” I heard him say, and I looked up.
“Huh? Oh, I—sorry, I was just thinking I needed to use the bathroom, but…”
“But what? Say no more.” He paused his documentary and unbuckled his seatbelt, then, turning to his right, he paused before turning back to me. “She’s sleeping,” he whispered to me, his breath intoxicating.
“Oh… then I can just—” without giving it a second thought I stood from my seat and began to shuffle through the aisle, over him, pushing the seat in front of him back as I did so. Almost violently, the person in front pushed back on the seat, sending me right on top of him. He’d been holding a cup of water, the contents of which had now drenched his chest, and it took me a moment to realize my breasts were in his face. Or rather, his face was in my breasts.Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god.
But he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, I could’ve sworn from the heat I felt on my chest he was laughing.
“I’m so sorry, I—”
He raised his hand, cutting me off. “Please—no need.” Then he added, with a smile, “There are worse ways to spend a Saturday night.”
He was looking into my eyes, and I was looking into his. I was by this point so thoroughly flustered I only smiled in response, then stepped over the last person (who had awoken amid this ordeal) and scurried up the aisle. Turning back, I saw him speaking to the person in front of him, a slender man with terror in his eyes.
I hurried to the bathroom, did my business, and returned to find everything had returned to normal. The aisle seat passenger had again fallen asleep, the man was calmly dabbing himself with some napkins the flight attendant had brought him, and the seat before him was perfectly upright, as though it had never been the source of any commotion. The man saw me in the aisle and smiled. Jokingly he raised his arms to protect his chest, which was still damp, and I laughed.
“Sorry again,” I managed as I slid back into my seat.
“No worries,” he said. “Lucas, by the way.”
