Chapter 3 Anna
Chapter three
Anna
“M
a’am, you're not allowed to use that.” The flight attendant snapped at me.
I glance down at the seat belt extender in my hands, puzzled. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t know. It’s just that I have used them before.”
I speak in a hushed tone, a silent signal for him to quiet down. Spoiler alert. He doesn’t. Instead, Flight Attendant Dickhead rolls his eyes and huffs like the big bad wolf and I’m the stupid, fat pig trying to shove my butt into a seat clearly made for those without hips.
“Not on this airline you haven’t. Hey Sheila,” he hollers over the rows behind me, trying to gain the attention of the pretty flight attendant I’ve seen walking up and down the aisle.
I feel my jaw drop and I wipe my face for any drool that’s leaked out as I notice she’s standing beside the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen in my life.
This gorgeous specimen must be the spawn of a burly lumberjack and a Greek goddess.
There’s an effortless, rugged charm to him.
His hair is mostly dark but is beginning to gray right above his ears and silver flecks seem to dance throughout it.
It’s perfectly styled and slightly spiked on top, making it appear as though his hair defies gravity and grows towards the sun.
His salt and pepper beard is trimmed neatly, close enough to his face that he probably doesn’t have to worry about food getting caught in it, but long enough to leave a delicious amount of beard burn between your thighs.
I shift uncomfortably in my seat, both at the lack of room, the angry flight attendant, and now the moisture that has started to collect between my legs from dirty thoughts of the slightly silver stranger.
“Grab me a seat belt extender, will you? We need one up here in 8F.” Sheila walks towards the back and the silvering fox looks at me, the look of disgust in his eyes.
I bury myself in my seat, embarrassed that the flight attendant is drawing attention to my predicament and slightly pissed off by the reaction of the handsome stranger.
This is not my first flight. I have had to use seat belt extenders before because heaven forbid them to make a standard sized seat belt that is built to protect those with curves.
Typically, the flight attendants are discreet and kind.
I don’t know if the purchase I made after checking out plus size travel tips is what set this one off, but clearly he’s not happy about the fact that he’s having to deal with me at all.
“Here you go,” Sheila dumps the seat belt extender in my hand and walks off. She wasn’t exactly kind, but at least she didn’t make a scene like Flight Attendant Dickhead.
As I buckle up with my airline approved extender this time, a man who appears to be in his late forties or maybe early fifties stops at my row. The man in the aisle seat nods at him and stands so the new, slender man can come take his seat between us.
“Just great, they sat me by a fatty,” he mutters under his breath, but still loud enough for me to hear.
He makes a bit of a show as he settles down, throwing elbows and ramming one into my side.
Pretty sure that wasn’t an accident, but I keep my wince and comments to myself.
That old bullshit nursery rhyme about sticks and stones pops into my brain.
It’s completely wrong because words do fucking hurt, but I’ve learned it’s best to just try and keep quiet when dealing with assholes.
“Can you scoot over into your spot?” he huffs out at me.
“I…I am in my spot.” I stammer. He’s even louder than Flight Attendant Dickhead was being and I can feel my face flush in embarrassment.
Huffing loudly, the man hits the call button. “We’ll fix this,” he says glaring at me. I look down at my lap, willing my body to close in on itself and become smaller. Why couldn’t I have been born a damn turtle?
Flight Attendant Dickhead returns to our row and while my anxiety could be making things up in my head, I’m fairly certain he’s glaring at me for causing even more trouble. I swear I’m just trying to go see my friends and enjoy my weekend.
“How can I help you, sir?” He smiles at the man, a gracious act he certainly never bestowed upon me.
“This woman is obviously too large for her seat. She should have purchased two tickets. Now I’m stuck on this multi-hour flight having to be crammed and uncomfortable because her fat ass is spilling into my spot. Can she please be moved?”
My eyes blink rapidly so tears don’t fall at the man’s harsh words.
I overhear the not-so-hushed whispers of the women sitting in the aisle behind me, and the unshed tears continue to build at their pity.
“That poor girl. They just need to move her and get it over with. I’m sure she’d be much more comfortable sitting somewhere else. ”
As much as I love my friends and look forward to this girls trip every year, I am beginning to regret this entire ordeal. Maybe it’s not too late to just head home.
I have been a big girl my entire life, and I've embraced my larger body. Sure, I have days where I don’t like who I see in the mirror, but as I get older those days are fewer and farther between.
I am usually very confident in who I am, regardless of what society may have to say about that, but no amount of self-worth is keeping me from feeling the utter humiliation this entire fiasco has brought on.
“Sir, the flight is full, but we will do the best we can.” Flight Attendant Dickhead turns to me, “Ma’am, as soon as we close the doors, we can move you to a different seat, preferably one in an empty row if one is available.
That way you won’t bother anyone else. You will have to take that extender with you.
” He eyes the additional buckle at my waist with cold disapproval.
I’m so ready to just say fuck it and leap over the man beside me, hopefully smashing my fat ass right into his stupid face, then sprint for the door of the plane and head back home.
Unfortunately, they just sealed the door, so instead I sink down in my too-small seat, completely mortified and miserable.
Maybe we will crash before we make it to Vegas, and nobody will ever remember about the fat girl who was publicly humiliated on the plane.
I’m looking out the window watching the little vehicles zoom around the plane with suitcases when my daydreaming is interrupted.
“Ma’am, there’s a seat available for you at 10A.
You need to go ahead and move as quickly as possible so we can take off.
Nobody wants to be delayed.” Flight Attendant Dickhead snips at me before briskly walking towards the back to join Sheila, no doubt gossiping about what a pain in their asses I’ve been.
As if moving seats on a full aircraft after everyone has been seated isn’t humiliating enough, I have to ask the two men to my left to get up so I can get out of the aisle, making the mad man huff and puff all over again.
I may or may not have not-so-accidentally stepped on his foot.
It may be petty, but just because I’m fat doesn’t mean I have to be the bigger person.
Slowly I complete the walk of shame to aisle 10 and when I want to do nothing but cry, I find myself biting my cheek to hold back a laugh when I realize I’m standing next to the gorgeous man whose face couldn’t hide his disgust earlier. This day really is after me, it seems.
His head is tilted back against the seat, and I can’t help but notice how beautifully peaceful he looks with his eyes closed and his earbuds in. I tap his shoulder and he quickly pauses his phone, looking annoyed, but when he catches my gaze, a soft smile graces his face.
“Hi there. Can I help you?” His voice is as rich as that chocolate cake the poor kid in Matilda had to eat in front of the entire school.
“Umm, I’ve been moved to sit in 10A. Do you mind stepping out so I can get through?”
He smiles fully at me now and damn, I’m pretty sure my panties just disintegrated. A dimple pops out on his left cheek and I kind of wanna lick it. Maybe I was imagining things and he wasn’t disgusted with me at all.
As the real-life dream man stands, I realize he’s the perfect headrest height.
You know, where your head can perfectly tilt and land on his shoulder?
I can also smell his cologne of tobacco and vanilla, not too strong.
Just fucking perfect. It’s an incredible blend and makes me want to curl up next to a fire.
When I get home, I’m immediately going to the store and sniffing every damn candle at every single home goods store until I can find one that matches the delicious fragrance.
He steps out into the aisle and I shuffle my way into the seat next to the window. I quickly try to secretly latch the seat belt extender before he sits back down and look out the window so I can’t see his reaction just in case he did manage to catch a glimpse of the embarrassing action.
His smooth voice washes over me, “I’m sorry they made a scene like that earlier.
You don’t deserve to be treated that way.
It’s ridiculous and I truly hope this airline doesn’t condone that behavior.
They shouldn’t have forced you to move seats.
You should reach out to them, but I don’t mind speaking on your behalf and tell them what I witnessed. ”
My legs squeeze together on their own accord, knowing that we do love a handsome, kind man with a touch of activist in him. I shake my head to get rid of the fantasy that a man this gorgeous could be interested in a girl like me. Especially a girl he pities.
“Oh, it was nothing, really. Besides, the man beside me smelled like ass.” I try to downplay the encounter with my horrible former seatmate.
“Farm animal or body part?”
I grin at him. “I’d say a mixture of both.”
“Well lucky for you I opted for Tom Ford instead of Eau de Jackass this morning.”
I huff out a laugh at his silly joke as we both settle into our seats. I go to resume my audiobook, and the man who made me smile again goes back to listening to whatever it was he was so concentrated on before I messed up his prior seating arrangement.
A few minutes later the flight attendants are in the middle of the aisle going over the safety procedures.
I glance over at the distinguished gentleman beside me who has removed his earbuds and is now staring at Sheila intently.
Go figure a man who looks that damn fine is transfixed by the tall, thin, and perky flight attendant who was fawning over him earlier.
They were probably scheduling a rendezvous for later when she got interrupted to fetch me the extender.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter.
“Do you not take airplane safety seriously?” He asks, his tone sharper than it was with me earlier.
“Oh, no, I do. I definitely do.” I assure him. He nods at me and goes back to watching Sheila, his brows furrowed and a determined look of concentration on his face. I keep my mouth closed and roll my eyes internally this time knowing this is the way the world works.
As the flight attendants finish their spiel, he speaks again.
“I’m sorry I snipped at you. I just didn’t want to miss anything they said.
” Mr. Sexy sucks in a large breath and exhales slowly.
His hands are gripping his armrests so tight his knuckles are whitening.
Could this big, strong man be afraid of flying?
“Umm, is this your first flight?” I ask.
He laughs and I can’t help but notice how lovely it sounds. It’s like a deep melody that could soothe you to sleep. “No, I actually have to fly fairly often. I just hate every minute of it.”
“I take it you travel for work?” I’m genuinely curious, finding myself wanting to learn as much as I possibly can about this attractive man with aerophobia.
“Mostly, yes. My brothers and I also fly out to a place we share down in the Caribbean every year. Deep sea fishing and mischief, mostly. But, the majority of my destinations are work related. Are you also flying for work?”
“Oh, no, I don’t get to travel much for my position. I would totally love that, though. I’m actually headed to Vegas for a girls’ trip. Every year some of my friends from college and I choose a destination. It’s my one trip a year and it’s seriously one of the things I look forward to the most.”
While his grip doesn’t loosen, he does smile at me, the sexy little dimple popping out on his left cheek.
“That sounds like a lot of fun. My name is,” he interrupts himself with a gasp as the plane finally begins to ascend.
We’ve been talking enough that I was able to distract him on our drive around the airstrip, but the lift off has his whole body tensing up.
I don’t know where the boldness comes from, but I reach over and swipe my thumb across his knuckles, trying to give him some comfort.
I brush back and forth a few times, and as I go to take my hand away, he flips his over and grasps mine.
The embrace feels so damn good and tiny flutters fill my chest. There’s an odd satisfaction in how perfect it feels for this complete stranger to be holding my hand.
Facing forward with his back aligned perfectly straight, he repeats his deep breathing exercise. Then he looks down at our hands wrapped together and quickly drops mine. “Sorry about that. I was trying to say that my name is Keaton.”
Though I miss the warmth and feel of his hand, I pop a smile on my face. “I’m Anna. And you have nothing to be sorry for Keaton.”
The precious dimple pops out again and it’s a good thing I’m sitting down, because my knees go weak. “So, where are you from?” He asks.
“Oh, born and raised in the city. Go Cats!” I pump my hands in the air, making him chuckle. “How about you?”
He runs his hand over his brown hair with the silver speckles, and I bite my lip to stifle my laugh.
I wonder if the little spikes on his head poke his fingers.
“I’m from a small town a couple hours south of you.
But also, Go Cats.” He winks and my body heats, falling a little harder for the kind stranger with Daddy vibes.