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“Don’t you think you should have?”
“Why? You can’t do anything.” She takes a deep breath, then blows it out slowly.
“We have courses for nervous flyers. You could have taken one.”
“Oh yeah, while Callaghan waits for us, you mean?” She peels an eye open and gives me a pointed look. “Exactly… Anyway, I’m fine. The pills are starting to kick in. You don’t need to worry about me.”
“I’m not.”
“Nice. Thanks,” she scoffs.
We turn onto the runway and full power is applied to the engines. Ava’s eyes fly open, and she makes a high-pitched whining sound. She stares out of the window as we tear down the runway.
“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.” She closes her eyes again, then they pop open like she doesn’t know whether to look or not. Her knuckles turn a ghostly white on the armrests.
“Can I do anything?”
“Shut up, Jet,” she snaps.
I ease back into my seat as we lift off the ground. My stomach lurches with the pull. I love the feeling. There’s nothing like it, knowing you’re about to climbthrough the clouds until you’re literally on top of the world.
“Oh god.” Ava grabs my hand, clutching it so hard her nails bite into my flesh.
I clear my throat. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”
She shakes her head side to side, tears filling her eyes. “It’s not okay, it’s not—”
We climb through the clouds and the plane bumps.
“Jet!” She throws her arms around my neck, catching me off guard, and buries her face into my neck.
I pat her back awkwardly. “I’m here. You’re fine.”
“Talk to me. Tell me something to distract me.”
I think for a second. “My record is eight hundred skips in a row.”
She sniffs. “You’re so weird for finding that fun.”
“I never said I find it fun.”
“Then why do it?”
Her arms tighten around my neck as the plane shakes with light turbulence.
“It clears my mind. And sweating helps me when I’m stressed.”
I pause mid-pat on her back as she trembles, clutching my collar. I switch to rubbing gently up and down her spine. “Is this okay?”
“Yeah,” she breathes out shakily. “Keep doing it.”
I lift my chin a little, resting it on top of her hair. The copper strands smell like the caramel and waterlily I noticed in her room.
“Why are you called Jet?” Her lips dust my neck as she speaks.
“My father likes planes.”
She chuckles against my skin. “I thought it might be that.”
