Chapter 2
My butt hurt, and my knees ached. I needed to get up, but the guy in the middle was sleeping. He had stopped snoring about an hour ago, but his eyes remained shut. The guy next to him was almost done with his book, the stretched spine dying for closure. I didn’t want to disrupt either one of them, so I shifted my weight and leaned toward the window, noticing the faint wispy clouds obscuring my view from the night sky.
I spied the flight attendant at the head of the plane, preparing the food carts. It was ten p.m., Boston time, and I was starving. When she finally approached and placed our trays in front of us, the guy in the middle removed his headphones and stretched. His right arm shot out in front of me and hit my tray on the way down. My full cup tipped against his outstretched hand, and cola poured off the tray and down my leg.
“Feck!” He placed the napkins from his tray on the puddle of brown bubbles.
“Uh,” I grumbled. My wet leg turned sticky, and with each move, a Velcro-sound ripped through the cabin. Too close, his tray obstructed my arm from cleaning the mess, so I sat there and did nothing. “It’s okay,” I said. “I wasn’t hungry, anyway.”
My chicken swam in soda, but the flight attendants were already two-thirds of the way back. “Oh no! My book.” My pitch dropped in sadness as soda trickled from the pages of my guidebook onto my lap.
He handed me his napkins and I squeezed the book, watching the brown liquid saturate the square napkin from one corner to the other.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
“It’s okay.” I flipped through the book, and scowled at the swollen, stained pages. Yellow highlighter and black ink bled up and down the text. “It’s just my guidebook. I can get another.”
I didn’t know why I was considering this guy’s feelings when I was disappointed and starving. Had he been a gentleman, he would have given me his dinner, but instead he dove right in, elbowing me every time he tried to cut his food. It smelled delicious for airplane food, and my stomach rumbled. I leaned around the soppy tray and fumbled through my purse, removing the small bag of trail mix I had purchased at the airport store.
“Are you allergic to nuts?” I asked.
He shoved a potato wedge in his mouth and shook his head no. “Yer good.”
Before I put the first peanut in my mouth, his tray was empty.
“You gonna eat that?” He pointed to my roll, protected by a wax bag from the soda. I raised my eyes to the ceiling and handed it to him. “Thanks.”
Watching him rip open the bag, smear butter on the inside, and shove it in his mouth, I squinted my eyes and scrunched my nose. This guy is an animal, like he hasn’t eaten in days. Crumbs rested along the small hairs growing out of his lower face and I rubbed my chin to alert him to the crumbly food.
“Whatcha doing in Ireland?” he asked, wiping his chin.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re American, right? Whatcha gonna do over here?”
I straightened my back and held up the book. “Study abroad.”
“Figured so much. A pretty girl like you, traveling alone, with a travel guide.” He shifted his torso, and faced me.
I felt my chest tighten, unsure how much information I should give this guy. He didn’t appear threatening, but he was right. I was traveling alone.
“What about you?” I changed the subject.
He stretched his arms in front of him. “Heading home.”
“Were you visiting family?” I asked.
“Nah, visiting America.”
I looked out the window and noticed a brightening along the horizon. “Two more hours,” I said under my breath.
The flight attendants strolled up the aisle and removed all the trays. “Sorry,” I said, motioning to the brown lake on my tray. I picked it up and handed it to her, careful not to let a drop spill on my two airplane friends.
Her eyes widened. “Oh, would you like another meal?”
I shook my head. “No, thank you.”
“Would you like a clean seat? We have a few empty seats throughout the aircraft.”
