11. Taylor
Eleven
Taylor
I usually sleep like a rock my first night home, but I’ve been tossing and turning and when I look over at the clock, it’s one a.m.
I’d like to blame it on jetlag, but I know it’s far more than that, my body unable to settle itself, this strange feeling of loneliness knotting in the pit of my stomach. Being a pilot is a lonely life, something I’ve grown used to, and honestly, something I’ve grown to enjoy.
Solitude.
It’s almost like this feeling is telling me I need to be by myself, that I need to take some time to reflect on what letting Jake into my life means. In the past, I surrounded myself with the wrong people who just grew to disappoint me, but I made a promise to myself that being alone felt better than disappointment.
So far, Jake has been far from a disappointment, which makes me question everything I’m feeling. It can’t be real and trusting him fully means that I give up that part of me I’ve guarded for so long. I’ve given up trying to find people who understand me and learned to love the fact that I understand myself now.
I wake up feeling a little groggy but somewhat rested. It’s not as early as I thought as I roll over and check my phone. Not being one to sleep in, I scramble from the bed, knowing I have things to do and places to be since I’m only off for the next two days.
One of the great things about being named captain is that I get to pick my lines, and since I’m moving up on the seniority list, I generally get what I ask for. I set my lines up about a month ago, giving myself a few days at home each week and allowing myself to travel to some of my favorite places too. But while I love the travel end of it, my favorite place to be is where I’m heading today.
I hop in the shower, making things quick because I have to be at the flight school in an hour. You’d think since I spend my days flying planes that I wouldn’t want to look at another plane until my next flight, but this is different.
When I finish getting ready, I grab my phone and see a text from Jake, and instinctively, my lips pull up into a smile.
Jake: Good morning. Hope you slept well in your own bed.
He’s either really thoughtful or a complete jerk, going out of his way to text me, and I think back to our time together in Sydney. The way it felt to throw caution to the wind and trust him, to let him take me around and show me a good time without showing me a good time . My heart flutters a little at the thought, the smile that he brought to my face seems to remain and without giving it much more thought, I text him back.
Me: Good morning to you too. Guessing you and your right hand had a fabulous night together.
The response bubbles pop up immediately and I stand waiting to see what he has to say.
Jake: Always witty, and taking the piss, cheeky girl. What are you up to today?
Me: I was just about to ask you the same thing. You have plans?
Jake: Not unless they’re with you.
Me: Can you meet me at the Santa Monica Airport in an hour?
Jake: Haven’t you done enough flying??
Me: Fine, don’t meet me there, but you’ll be missing out.
Jake: You know I’m coming… Because the idea of you in a cockpit… Ohhhhhh….
Me: Stop being dirty!
I might have told him to stop, but fuck me, if it doesn’t turn me on too. His filthy mouth and all his harmless flirting are sexy as hell, and I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about touching myself to thoughts of his body and his dirty mouth.
Jake: You love it. I’ll see you in an hour, which gives me plenty of time to rub one out in the shower.
Me: JAKE!!!
I arrive at the airport and slip in through the back entrance, heading toward the offices where I find Charlie at his desk, typing away on his keyboard. I met Charlie when we were in flight school together, and while I went on to fly commercial planes, Charlie took a different path and opened a flight school. He flew commercial for a while, but after getting married and having a couple of kids, he settled down on a more family-friendly path.
He’s one of the good ones, which is the reason we’ve remained friends for so long, and why I approached him with my idea. I knew he would be in support of it, and I’ve had my program running through his flight school and with his help and support for the last five years.
Trent thought the idea was stupid and told me it would never take off. He even at one point told me it was sexist, and I was discriminating against men. This should’ve been the nail in the coffin, but I stuck around in the hopes that he had more respect for me than that. Obviously, I was wrong.
During our first year with the Girls in the Sky program, we amassed more than two hundred girls from the greater Los Angeles area who registered to take part. We had to form a waitlist and open more than one program. I thought it would be something I could do once or twice a month while I was on break, but it blew up into so much more.
I wanted to bring awareness to the fact that being a pilot is a male-dominated profession, but not just that, I wanted all girls to be able to experience something that brought me so much joy and a sense of accomplishment. Knowing that something like flying lessons can be extremely costly, we developed a program that gathered donations from wealthy business owners and local celebrities that allow us to offer the program free of cost to low-income families in the area. It lets us reach a wide range of kids and exposes them to something they may have never had the opportunity to experience.
Charlie looks up from his computer and beams; jumping up from his chair, he embraces me in a warm and welcoming hug.
“So good to see you,” he says. “Some of your girls are already here and going on a quick tour of a new Cessna we just got in. Carrie’s out there with them.”
He motions out over to the hangars, and we both begin to head out in search of them. Carrie is Charlie’s wife; she’s a petite thing with a sharp wit and a loud mouth, and while she’s never flown a plane in her life, she knows enough about them to train even some of the most advanced pilots.
I can hear Carrie’s loud voice echoing in the cavernous hangar as she fills the girls in on the controls for the new plane.
“It has your basic six-pack, and no ladies, I don’t mean the abs on some hot, shirtless model. This six-pack is far more advanced and will give you a much better return than a shirtless guy.”
I hear my students chuckle a little, and I can’t help but laugh at her cheesy joke too.
Carrie looks out through the windshield of the plane and catches my eye. “It looks like your instructor is here,” she says, hopping down and walking over to where Charlie and I are standing. The small group of girls follows behind her, and we all convene where we normally meet for the start of our class.
Carrie and I chat for a bit before she stops short of finishing a sentence, her eyes focused on something behind me, and when I turn around, I see Jake wandering aimlessly, but still with an air of confidence about him.
“Over here,” I call, flagging him over with my hand, and while I can tell he lets out a sigh of relief, his shoulders less tense now, he still has a huge smile on his face.
“Wait, he belongs to you?” Carrie asks, her hands on her hips, her eyebrows going up in surprise.
“I’m not sure I’d say he belongs to me, but he’s a friend. Another pilot I know who I asked to come out here today and help out.”
“Well, I’d suggest…” Carrie starts, but she’s cut short by Charlie tugging her away as Jake walks up. I introduce him to Charlie and Carrie, and we chat for a few seconds as the remainder of the girls arrive.
We have a total of six girls signed up for this session, but when we first started, our classes ran upwards of ten girls. We ended up having to cut it to a maximum of six because we just couldn’t get in the flying time with that many. The plus that came out of it was that we now run several different sessions rather than just one. It became so popular that Charlie reached out to some of his trainer pilots and brought them on as teachers. We’re now running twelve six-week courses a year, which far exceeds our original expectations.
When the last of the girls arrives, Charlie and Carrie disappear back to their respective offices, and I get started introducing Jake.
“Alright, girls, we have a special guest today. His name is Jake Campbell, and he’s a first officer for Crescent Airways. He’s going to be helping out today, which means more flying time for all of you.”
They let out a riotous cheer, and I laugh a little as Jake goes around to each girl and shakes hands and asks their names. But that’s where the excitement comes to a halt, and the awkwardness slips in.
“So tell me,” Jake starts, and what comes out of his mouth next tells me he hasn’t recently spent time with any kids, which doesn’t surprise me. Our careers don’t give us the opportunity to hang out with nieces and nephews very often, and any interaction with kids on our flights is minimal. “Who’s a fan of One Directions, huh? Harry Styles, am I right?”
Every one of my girls stares at him with emotionless expressions on their faces, and I can almost read their thoughts. He sounds like their embarrassing father, and they’re trying to process what to say to him.
Sofia is the first to speak up, and I put a hand over my mouth, trying to stifle the laugh I feel building because I know this is going to be interesting.
Sofia is twelve years old and was born with an on-point resting bitch face and an attitude to match. She’s a tiny little thing with long dark hair and dark brown eyes. She packs a punch you don’t see coming.
She’s the youngest of five and the only girl of immigrants who arrived in the US poor and looking for work. Her father is a landscaper, and her mother is a line cook. They’re hard workers and deeply devoted to their family, and without my program funding, Sofia wouldn’t be able to be here. Her goal is to one day become a fighter pilot, and because of my program, she will do it.
But right now, she’s here to give Jake a hard time, and I’m dying to watch it.
She gives a couple of long, slow blinks before shooting me a side-eye that basically screams “what the fuck”, and then she lays into him.
“First of all, it’s One Direction, not One Directions. No ‘s’ on the end. And it’s clear you aren’t up to date on your pop culture because One Direction,” she pauses emphasizing the “tion” at the end of the word, “broke up years ago, and Harry Styles’ solo career didn’t take off like it should have.”
“Oh-kay,” Jake says, looking over at me for help, and I shrug my shoulders. His hands are now shoved into the pockets of his jeans, and he shifts a little, rocking back on his heels. He got himself into this mess. It would’ve been so easy had he just tried talking to them about flying. But it’s super cute watching him get all flustered, and I commend his attempt.
“We’re here to learn about becoming pilots in a career dominated by men. Did you know that only seven percent of pilots are women? And even worse, they’re paid far less than their male counterparts,” Sofia says to him, her hands now on her hips as she stares him down.
“I have heard that somewhere,” Jake responds, his lips twitching up in the corners as he turns to me, adding, “You train them well.”
“Alright, girls, enough. We aren’t here to give Jake a hard time. He gets enough of that from me.” I look over and wink at him. His smile is bright, his eyes practically sparkling with happiness, and I feel it too.
With the girls now walking ahead of us, we all make our way over to the hangar that houses our practice planes.
I reach over and give Jake a pat on the back. “Nice going. Way to break the ice there.”
“The ice in that hangar could’ve taken down the Titanic. No one had a chance,” he jokes back as he slips his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him and pressing a kiss to my temple. “It’s good to see you.”
“We just saw each other.”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t sure when it would happen again.”