The Flight

I jerked awake startled by the turbulence and the flight attendant's voice announcing the seat belt sign has been turned on. I stifled a yawn, turned on the reading light, and straightened up my seat.

I hate flying red eye. It's been years since I last flew at night. I grabbed the magazine in front of me and flipped through the pages, browsing, not really reading.

Calvin's voice from 2 nights ago is still ringing in my ears. "You ruined my life! You destroyed everything that I have!"

That last fight was ugly. There's no recovering from it. I barely got out alive.

Another turbulence. I gave up with the magazine, put it back, and turned off the light above me. My eyes hurt from crying too much and for sleeping too little. I squeezed them in trying to get over the sting and failing. I looked out the window. At least the skyless night is beautiful.

"Are you also bored to death?", the guy on the aisle seat asked. I was one of the last few people to board. I was not sure if I was ready to leave. He was already seated and had to stand so I can pass through to my seat.

I glanced at him. "You have no idea."

He smiled at me. "I don't know about flying planes but this pilot seemed to suck. The seat belt sign has only been off for 10 minutes and now it's back on." He gestured at the lights above us, making a point. His eyes crinkled when he smiled. It felt contagious.

This guy talked a lot. Normally, I would shy away from such. But he's a welcome distraction from my own thoughts. "I think he's trying to keep us tied to our seats so we won't run around like children."

We both giggled. It feels weird on my face. Like it's doing something new. We fell silent. My mind wandered again to Calvin right before I walked out the door this afternoon.

"Em, I'm sorry."

"Are you really, Cal?"

No answer, just a sigh. I felt the onset of tears trying to break free from my eyes again.

"I am done. You are not the Calvin I used to know."

"6 years, Emily, 6 years. You can't just say that after 6 fucking years.", he sounded accusatory. There's a dangerous tone in his voice. I was scared that he'll start shouting again.

"I'm tired, Cal.", I answered, choosing my words carefully, scared that he'll blow up.

"You can't enter my life, ruin it, and then walk away from me." He tried to close the space between us. I wanted to curl up in a ball.

A small ding signaled that the seat belt sign has been turned off. I shifted the shoulder bag on my lap and accidentally pressed on the bruise on my right leg. I got it two nights ago when I got home late because of the rain. I was barely inside the house when Cal grabbed the umbrella I was holding and hit me with it. I was lucky that I was able to stand and walk for this flight.

Just then, the seat belt sign was off. Aisle Seat Guy stood and went to the toilet. I got up to go to the toilet too but took the one on the opposite end of the plane, the farther one.

I took my time in the toilet. My backside hurt from sitting for a long time. When I returned to my seat, Aisle Seat Guy is back. I muttered a small "excuse me" and "thank you" and he stood up to give way for me. I squeezed in to my seat and fastened my seat belt promptly. To my surprise, instead of taking his own seat, Aisle Seat Guy occupied the empty one between us.

I looked at him. "Yes?" I don't want to sound alarmed.

"Yes? This seat is not occupied, is it?", a grin spread out his face. His smile was lopsided. It goes higher on his right cheek but reaches both of his eyes.

"It's not but it's not your seat.", I answered firmly.

"I'm sorry. I thought we're being friendly. Let me move back..." To be fair, he genuinely looked taken aback. He scrambled to return to his seat. That lopsided smile was gone.

We were quiet for a few moments before I said, "It's not you. I just have this weird thing about strangers coming too close. It makes me uncomfortable."

"Oh.", he paused and then laughed. At first he was trying to suppress it and then as if he couldn't hold it anymore, he bursted heartily.

I was shocked. "Hey, keep it down!", I hissed. "There could be people sleeping!"

"It's just funny! People always told me I'm too forward and they always tell me to back off. I think this is the first time I encountered someone who thinks they're the problem.", he managed to say between fits of laughter. He was shaking. He untied his hair and shook his head, his dark curls dancing. It wasn't too long but it framed his face, enough to be tied in a ponytail. I think he's trying to shake himself to seriousness.

"I think my social anxiety is no laughing matter.", I commented sternly. In reality, I also found the situation hilarious.

"What's the opposite of anxiety? Because I think it's what I have. Oh how great is it that you are my seatmate!" The laughter has subsided. He reached out and offered his hand to shake. "I'm Ryan."

I hesitated and then offered mine in return. "Emily."

"Emily, you made my day." He shook my hand and looked at our held hands briefly. My jacket sleeve rode up to my forearm and a bruise showed. This one was from last night. Calvin didn't like that the food was cold when he arrived. I tried to withdraw my arm but he held onto my hand. "What happened to this?"

"I fell." Trying to explain my bruises has become a reflex. I have been doing it for a long time now. I succeeded in releasing my hand. I fixed my sleeve, covering the bruise and smiled at him to lighten up the mood.

"Where? How?", he searched me for answers. His eyes are brown, big, and rounded. His thick eyebrows arched up. He was genuinely curious. Another turbulence.

"I slipped on the bathroom floor last night. I landed on my butt. It was stupid.", I said dismissively.

"Did your boyfriend see that?"

"No. I mean yes, he saw the bruise but not me slipping." The trick to hiding things is to not give out too much information.

"So, you have a boyfriend?", he shifted from his seat, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Uhm, yeah. I mean no. He's an ex as of this afternoon." Saying it loud makes it real. I don't know how I feel about this realization. "Wow. It's the first time I referred to him as an ex."

"Oh okay." Ryan brushed his hair off his face. Another turbulence. "Will you please calm down?"

I looked at him confused.

"We have 3 hours in this flight. You don't have to make me fall, break my heart, and then give me hope in under 10 minutes, you know?", he explained.

He's good. A sweet talker. Two can play this game. "Who said I'm giving you anything?"

"Ouch! There it is again! Heartbreak!", he exaggeratedly clutched his chest as if he'd been shot. I found the whole thing hilarious.

Suddenly, this flight became easier. I learned that Ryan is off to attend his high school homecoming. When asked about my reason for travel, I just said that I'm visiting my mom. It's partially true because I haven't seen her in years but that's not the entire reason. I wanted to move as far away as I can from Calvin.

Calvin. He couldn't be more different than Ryan. Calvin was the type of guy who follows rules to a t. Ryan doesn't care if he laughed too loud. Calvin always sported a coat and tie. Ryan here is wearing a coat but had ripped jeans and a Beatles shirt underneath. I know it's wrong to compare the 2 as I absolutely don't know anything about Ryan. Hell, I don't even know his full name.

"Ryan Alonzo." He brought out a card from his wallet. "I'm a Landscape Architect. Here's my card."

I took it. "Are you a fucking mind reader?", I asked, amazed at how my thoughts seemed to connect to his. I looked at the card in my hands.

"No, I'm not a fucking mind reader Emily.", he let out a small laugh. "Why?"

I laughed too. "Nothing. I was just wondering about your full name when you said it."

"I see. Are you ever gonna share yours?"

"I don't have a card, sorry." The truth is, I didn't want to share anything to this guy yet. I didn't want him to know how broken I was. I didn't want to burst my own bubble.

"I meant your name."

"Emilia Fajardo. I'm a nurse."

"Sweet. Can I call you and we can meet up for coffee some time?"

Sure. I wanted to say yes. But instead I said, "I don't know about that. I think it's best if we don't."

"My third heartbreak in an hour!", he grinned at me. "I understand. If you need someone to landscape for you, you have my number." He pointed at the card again.

"Sure. Thank you, Ryan." I kept the card in my purse. I'm pretty sure my mother's yard needed upgrading. I smiled. My face has gotten used to it.

Another turbulence. The seat belt sign was on again.