by Andre, Bella
Traveling in the winter always makes me nervous. Are the people de-icing the plane all classified to be doing this job? Have you seen how sketchy some of those workers are? Most of them are out there laughing and joking around as they spray the de-icer on the plane, while we could be plummeting to our death in mere hours because of their inability to pay attention to detail!
I start to feel myself hyperventilate as I watch a guy who appears to be no older than Mr. Theology laugh and do a check of the hydraulics. Oh, good check, buddy. Did you strain yourself bending over that far? Never mind, you didn’t even look!
He just gives a thumbs-up to the guy in front of him, who then gives a thumbs up to the pilot, who comes over the loudspeaker to say, “All clear.”
Closing my eyes, I feel the plane start to taxi to the runway. Preston’s eyes bore into my skin as I peek around my black eyelashes.
“What?” I ask in annoyance, knowing if I say any more my voice might start shaking.
“Are you okay?” He looks shocked as if he thinks I’m not scared of anything except for irrational things like birds and caffeine.
I shrug. “I just don’t like heights.”
Before I know it, Kristin has turned around in the seat and given a brief history of my flight experiences to Preston, puke bag and all.
I hide my head in my hands, hoping that the plane does crash, then I feel us start to take off.
There’s no way I can help myself, and I don’t think what I do next should be held against me.
Panic rises in my chest and before I know it, I am clinging onto Preston like a crazy person and breathing heavily into his chest, all the while gripping his hands so hard I lose feeling in all my fingers.
After about five minutes, I pull back, realizing that I had just attacked the poor man but see no hint of smugness on his face, which confuses me. I mean, one minute he is… well, you know, and the next he is… THIS!
I’m mortified. At least in other plane rides I held on to complete strangers or weird old men who oddly liked the embrace. I would have welcomed anything but this. And he doesn’t even seem the least bit affected by my presence! How is it fair that I find myself staring at him like some lovesick teenager while my presence does nothing but make him want to be more irritating!
Ducking down to get my carry-on, I get a book and start to read. If there ever was some good advice Grandma Ned gave me, it was to take funny books on plane trips. She said it helped calm her down and kept her from getting mad at Grandpa's incessant snoring. If it can get rid of Grandpa’s snoring, it can get rid of the annoying person next to me, and my humiliation.
To my surprise, I find myself enthralled in the book, until I smell that all-too-familiar peppermint smell.
“What are you reading?” His eyes sparkle with interest.
“Please don’t talk to me,” I grumble
He looks momentarily hurt then smiles and says, "Okay."
The next thing I know, he is passing me a note. I should have known.
Preston: So, what are you reading?
Me: Oh, just a book about this plane ride where a girl beats this annoying man to death for talking to her too much.
Preston: Fun.
Me: Yeah, I’m thinking of using it as an example.
Preston: I think I’d like that.
Me: You would.
Preston: Was that a statement or a question?
Me: If it was a question, I would have used a question mark.
Preston: Just checking. You look pretty when you read.
Me: Is this a trick to try to get me to be uncomfortable?
Preston: Nope. Just honesty. You want to look at me right now, don’t you?
Me: No…
Preston: Yes you do, I can tell. You want to look at my face and see if I am kidding. Don’t worry though, I’m not.
Me: Interesting.
Preston: Isn’t it though?
Me: What?
Preston: That such a simple compliment would have the power to make you blush.
Me: It doesn’t take much to make a girl blush if you put meaning behind words… then again a guy like you should know that.
Preston: What do you mean a guy like me?
Me: An ATTRACTIVE man like you should know the power he has over women.
Preston: Hmm… just like an ATTRACTIVE woman like yourself should know the power she has over men.
And then I break, summoning up the courage to look up into his gaze. Our eyes lock in a moment of pure electric tension. It is shortened by the flight attendant stopping to see if we need anything to drink.
I ask for water, as does he, then sit there in silence with my book still in hand.
“Hey, do you want to watch a movie?” Preston asks, taking out his headphones.
“How?” My eyebrows furrow in confusion.
“Well, it’s cool. See, they have these things called TVs, and if you plug in the—”
“Ugh! I knew it was too good to be true,” I whine.
“What?” He smiles.
“You being nice and…” I couldn’t find the words.
“And?” he prompts, flashing a wicked grin.
“Nothing, let’s just watch the stinking movie.” Tugging at the headphones in my bag, I duck as they break free after the final tug.
“Ouch,” Preston yelps. They struck him in the face, but this time it wasn’t on purpose, promise!
“And I should have known.” He rubs his head
“Known what?”
“That you would try to threaten my life yet again. Do you even realize how many times you’ve hit me with either your own hand or other flying objects?”
At this I giggle.
His smile kills me.
Absolutely destroys me from the inside out. I want to take a picture of it and just stare.
Again, note that I’ve way too much caffeine.
“Sorry,” I mumble as I continue to look at his strikingly handsome face.
It takes a girl’s breath away. His dark hair, green eyes, tan skin, strong jaw, and perfectly straight white teeth all melt together to make a masterpiece of God.
He notices me daydreaming again and raises an eyebrow in question. So I turn toward the screen to watch the movie he picked.
Chapter Ten
I don’t remember when or why but somehow about halfway through the flight my body decided it was exhausted and fell asleep on me. The last thing I remember is slurring my words as I asked Preston about the Disney movie we were watching.
I’m fully awake now but I don’t want to move. There is something hard underneath my head, and to be honest, I’m a bit scared to open my eyes. My nose wakes up as well, and I smell something that I can only describe as pure man, a mixture of aftershave and some sort of spicy cologne next to me. Think, I command myself. Did I fall asleep on the window or on him? Aw, hell. If I fell asleep on him, that means I could have drooled on him. I tend to do that when I sleep. When I was at church camp in junior high, the girls called me waterworks because of all the drool that came out of my mouth when I slept.
Okay, Amanda, it’s not a big deal. Just open one eye. You don’t even have to open two. Just take a sneak peek. I open one eye and look. Preston is happily reading, and I am, in fact, leaning on his shoulder, and might I add, that I look rather awkward. I have pulled my legs up into the seat and am inclining my entire body on his one side.
“Hey, you’re up!” Kristin says loudly from the row ahead of us.
“Uh, yeah.” My voice is hoarse from my nap, and I can’t stop the yawn that is about to swallow the plane in darkness. Being quick yet discreet, I push away from Preston’s shoulder, praying no one noticed or will comment that I had just been using him as a pillow.
“Why were you just lying there with your eyes open? It looked kind of freaky, Amanda,” Kristin teases, looking over the seat.
I want to stuff my pillow in her mouth. Does she not get it? I feel shaking next to me and turn to face the music.
Preston
gives me an amused grin as if to say, I know that you know that I know that you fell asleep on me; and I’m holding it over your head for eternity.
“I must admit,” Preston says, as he looks between me and Kristin, “never have I seen a girl drool quite as much as Amanda. Are you dehydrated?”
At this Brad turns around and gives Preston a high five, who then in turn winks at Kristin, who gives me an apologetic Sorry, do you want me to defend you? look.
I roll my eyes and pretend to be grumpy, that is, until I smell… “Hey, is that…?” pointing at the bread sitting in front of Preston I feel my mouth begin to water. Be still my heart. Bread!
Then everything happens in slow motion, and I can’t be blamed for any of my actions. I’m just recovering from a nap and still out of it. Fast as possible, I slap Preston on the back of the head while simultaneously grabbing his bread and proceed to stuff it in my mouth.
He turns, mouth open, to face me. “Spit it out.”
At the moment, I have an entire roll in my mouth, so I can’t speak. I shake my head no.
Shit. Im like a scavenger, a five year old scavenger with paint on my hands. Did I really smack him on the back of the head in order to steal his food? What type of person does that make me? An insane one. That’s it. Swear he brings out the worst type of person in me.
“Spit it out,” he says again, this time holding out his hand in front of my mouth. Hey, at least he’s smiling!
This time I make a noise while my head shakes.
Then he lunges toward me to grab my head with his hands. I dodge and start spitting bits and pieces out to please him. Then he does something that I swear, and you’ve heard it here first, I will never forgive him for.
He licks his hand and wipes it across my face.
“Okay, you can have it,” he says as he sits back down in his seat.
My face is wet, but at least I have the bread. I swallow before I punch him in the arm and ask, “What was that for?”
He doesn’t meet my gaze, “Well, I figured it was only fair, since you drooled on me so much and stole my snack. Did you like that?”
The way he asks if I liked that, seriously makes my stupid stomach flop so much that I want to grab it. How does he do it? How does he make me want to sell my soul and just… straddle him!
He smiles and then adds, “I think I bring out the violence in you.”
I roll my eyes.
“Didn’t you say you had a thing about water?” He leans in a little too close for comfort “Does that include bodily fluids too? Like spit?” He stops until he’s inches from my face and smirks. “How do you even kiss a guy if you can’t handle a little spit, huh?”
Easy. Your spit is GOLD PRESTON! Liquid gold that make women want to peel off their clothes and dance in front of you!
Wanting to spit on him for saying such a true thing, I take invasive action. I grab the water bottle on his tray and pour it over his head. Acting twenty-one is extremely overrated.
“Oh my,” I say as I put my little finger to my chin. “I guess I’m not so scared of water after all? Towel?”
Brad turns in his seat and bursts out laughing as water droplets cascade from Preston’s hair
The bastard, he even manages to look good all wet. If he would have done the same thing to me, I would look like a caged raccoon. How is it fair that he looks like he just got done shooting a commercial underneath a waterfall?
“Dude, you okay?” Brad asks as he nudges Kristin to turn around. She puts her hand over her mouth and chuckles, then shoots me daggers as if to ask, Did you do this?
I look away quickly and try to avoid any sort of eye contact from her. The whole mom-radar makes me feel guilty. Now I wonder if I pushed it too far. What’s wrong with me? He must work on hard on thinking of ways to bring on the worst in me.
Preston wipes his face with the towel I threw at him and grunts “I’m okay, just needed a little refreshing, isn’t that right, Amanda?”
“I can neither confirm nor deny his accusations,” I say, putting my hand over my heart, forcing myself not to blink as three sets of judgmental eyes point my way.
“Are we there yet?” I ask and pull out my new magazine. Maybe if I change the subject, everyone will forget my little water incident.
Preston looks at me and scowls before asking Kristin if she has a sedative she can give me for my irritability, at which I then openly mock him by repeating what he asked in a whiny voice. Maybe I do need a sedative or something.
“She doesn’t do well in small spaces,” Kristin answers as she gives me a pitiful look.
“OH MY GOSH! MRS. BUTTERWORTH!” I begin to jump out of my seat, forgetting that my seatbelt is still attached, and nearly cut off my body at the hips as I try to make it out of the row.
“Easy tiger,” Preston says as he helps unbuckle me. “And why are you yelling your cat's name in First Class? People are staring.”
He whispers too close to my face, if you ask me.
“I forgot to leave her food and water. She's for sure going crazy on this flight. Do you think they will let me go down there and slip her something?”
Asking this question must seal Preston’s assessment of my mental, or lack thereof, stability. His expression is calculating, and I wonder if he thinks I actually am crazy.
“Um, sure, Amanda, why don’t we just ask the pilot if you can go into the cargo storage while the plane is moving and feed your cat? Sounds totally reasonable.” Sarcasm drips off of his every word.
“I think I hate you.” I re-buckle my seatbelt.
“You do not. You just hate me for what I bring out of you.”
“Which is?” I snort
“Honesty, irritation, lust, desire,” he answers smugly.
“I was all those things before you came along,” I fire back.
He leans over the armrest toward me making my heart feel like it’s going to jump out of my chest. Surely he can hear it.
“You get frustrated easily.” He picks up his hand, as if to brush my hair from my face, and wipes next to my mouth, leaving where he touched permanently tingly. “You had a little leftover bread.”
I sigh. I can’t help it. And then Preston kisses me for the second time in our short friendship. Right. On. The. Mouth. And like a total whore, I let him. Because his mouth is warm, it feels good… and too soon he pulls back.
“Like I said,” his fingertips dance on my chin as he caresses my skin, “I bring out the best in you.”
The pilot's voice comes over the loudspeaker, letting everyone know we would be landing within the next hour. Forget Mrs. Butterworth — I’m the one who needs help. My heart is going to end up broken.
And I'm so going to let it happen.
Chapter Eleven
To say that plane ride was the longest of my life would be a gross understatement. I have two years' worth of restless energy just waiting to explode but don’t have time to think about it, because Mrs. Butterworth needs me.
I run to claim my small animal and nearly cry when I see her little crate. With great emotion, I pull it off the conveyor belt and set her free! Only, wait! That’s not my cat. What the— A giant green iguana lumbers out and hisses. Where. Is. Mrs. Butterworth?
“MOM, SOMEONE'S STEALING IZZY!"
Spinning around to look at the little boy who is ratting me out, I find a large Hawaiian woman in a flowery fluorescent muumuu glaring at me.
“Give the boy his iguana, and I won’t press charges.” The mom steps into my personal space, shoving her finger in my face, beads of sweat pouring from her forehead as she leans in closer.
“Um, um, I…” I stammer like a damn guilty iguana-napper, “I thought it was my cat, I’m so sorry I didn’t know! Here!” My words tumble out as I hand them the cage and continue to apologize as the little boy bursts into tears.
“She hurt him! Look, he’s bleeding!” The boy points at the iguana’s foot and tugs at his mom’s dress at the same time, nearly pulling it completely from her bo
dy.
Oh. My. Gosh. I’m going to prison.
Goodbye, cruel world!
“Trouble?”
I didn’t know Preston was that close to me until now. What does he think he’s going to do? Charm her to death? Sign a calendar? Breathe his perfect peppermint breath into her face and just smolder? WTH!
“Mr. December!” the woman yells as she throws a camera at her small child and paws her way toward Preston. “Is it really you?”
Preston chuckles as he shoots me a you’re welcome glance and answers, “Why of course it is!”
The lady gives him her name, asks for his autograph, and apologizes for the confusion when Preston explains to her, “Yes, I’m sorry about my friend. You see, she is sick. She forgot to take her pills this morning and thinks every animal is her long lost cat.”
Then they both look at me with sad eyes before she answers, “Oh, the poor dear. Well here, for your troubles.” She proceeds to hand him a box of chocolate-covered macadamia nuts.
“Thank you, Sue.”
Oh great. Now they are on a first-name basis.
“It’s just hard sometimes when you love someone so much, but they don’t know it.”
Oh awesome, and now he’s fake crying. Perfect. Shoot me now.
She embraces him as he snuffles on her shoulder, all the while giving me a thumbs up behind her back.
Sue, as he called her, leaves just in time for me to stomp up to him and raise my fist.
“Whoa there, careful where you bust those things out at” He says, pulling my hands down to my sides. At least he recognizes the sheer magnitude and strength of my hands, aka weapons.
“Unbelievable.” I push past him.
“What is?” He catches up to me.
“Your ability to sweet-talk anything wearing a skirt!” I say exasperated.
“So,” he steps in front of me, blocking my view of the conveyor belt, “does that mean we are excluding men? Because I’ve sweet-talked my fair share of the male species, not that it’s something to brag about.” His smile is all together way too alluring for his own good.
“Curse you and your stupid fireman-good-looks.” I point my finger into his face.
He takes my finger and pulls me into a freakishly tight embrace. “Admit it, you kind of like me.” His lips are inches from mine, causing me to do the double-take between his eyes and his mouth.