TURBULENCE

I ran all the way to the check-in desk at the airplane’s door. I never was late, always being too early. I hated tardiness. The clerk looked perturbed. Well, me too, lady. Checking me in at lightning speed, I ran down the hallway and onto the plane, everyone turning to look my way. I bowed my head and walked to my seat number, refusing to lift my head.

Slumping down into my seat, I blew out a long breath. I made it. I could not be late. I was heading home to my high school reunion, and I waited til the last moment to get there. The seatbelt sign was lit, and I was trying, but it wasn’t latching. Of course. This was going to be a fun take off.

“Maybe I can help.” A man’s voice next to me said. I froze. I knew that voice. I dreaded that voice. I hated that voice. I slowly turn my head to the side, dreading.

“Hey Sunshine.” Josh Bancroft said. He was, let’s be honest, the worst. He was so mean to me all through elementary school. We ran in different crowds as we got older, but he always took the time to say something unkind in passing.

I left him and everyone else I knew in my hometown. I wanted a fresh start. Yet, here I was, staring at the bane of my existence. I know what I looked like right now, messy bun and airplane travel jogging suit. I visibly swallowed.

“No, thank you. I am perfectly capable of buckling my seatbelt,” I huffed.

“It really doesn’t seem like you are,” Josh said, reaching over to grab my seatbelt.

“Yes, I can!” I yelled louder than intended. He raised his hands in surrender.

Josh sat back in his chair as I finally clicked the seatbelt into place. The plane taxied down the runway and lept into the air. We both remained silent. I moved away, and here he was. I felt crowded and uncomfortable. I snapped my head his way.

“Why are you here?” I asked.

“On earth?” He asked, in an obtuse manner. “In Florida? Why are you in Florida?’ I corrected myself.

“I live here now, Sunshine.”

“Quit calling me that,” I grumbled. I turned my head back forward and looked at the blank monitor. I reached between my feet and dug in my bag for my headphones. I wanted to ignore him and pretend I was alone on this flight.

An hour passed in silence. I refused to look his way. I hoped he had fallen asleep. I slid my headphones down until they lie around my neck.

“I talked to Rebecca,” he said, simply. Rebecca? My best friend from high school. She wasn’t part of his crowd either. I turned my head once again to look at him. I remained silent.

“She told me throughout school you hated me,” he said. He glanced at his hands, tightly clutching them in his lap.

“That can’t be a surprise. You hated me too,” I told him.

“No!” He exclaimed louder than necessary. My mouth dropped open.

“I loved you,” he mumbled. My mouth snapped shut.

Carrie Crossty is a fiction writer who is working on her first novel. She lives in Ohio with her husband, daughter, and 3 Olde English Bulldogge’s.