Chapter 1 #2
“Nothing but penguins and polar bears.”
The boarding call for their flight to Barrow, Alaska sounds over the system before she can reply, and they say their goodbyes before wandering toward the gate.
He’ll split off, and so will she, then she’ll see him again at the wedding, maybe think of him at the hotel during a little stress relief, and that’s all well and good except that she’s slightly terrified of who she’ll be sitting next to now that she can’t put it off any longer.
Nora dutifully boards, scanning the area with shaky hands and frayed nerves that only zing and tingle even worse when she realizes it’s a window seat.
She had forgotten it was the only one left when she booked, but now she has to stare down at the earth as they leave it.
If there’s not a good stockpile of barf bags on hand, then she won’t be the only one to suffer.
“Hey again.”
She can’t believe she’s relieved to see a relative stranger, but when his voice rumbles behind her, all low and gravely, and slightly concerned as he points to the seat next to hers, she most definitely is.
“That one’s me. You’ve got the window seat?”
She winces. “Mhmm.”
“You don’t look happy about that. Wanna switch?”
“Yes. Absolutely. Please.”
He gives her a slightly awkward smile before stuffing his carry-on in the overhead compartment, a move that flexes an impressive set of biceps. Then, he points to her bag, asking silent permission to lift it up for her. When she nods, he takes care of it in two seconds flat.
Damn, she’s easy, Nora thinks sadly. He bought her coffee and loaded her carry-on, and she’s already a goner. What happened to being done with men?
It’s fine, though, because he’s bound to say something stupid during this plane ride that will rid her of all attraction in an instant. It’s inevitable. All she has to do is wait.
“I’m Nora,” she offers, once he’s seated beside her. They’d been too distracted by drink spills and weddings for proper introductions.
“Theodore,” he replies. “Everyone calls me Theo.”
“I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but not much is nice while hurdling through the air in a giant metal tube.”
The plane starts to move a moment after they’ve secured their seat belts, and she grips her armrest, sucking a breath deep into her lungs and holding it tight.
“I don’t like flying either,” he says with a resigned sigh. “I hate it every time.”
She chances a glance to her right, and sure enough, Theo’s nearly as pale as she is. They’re quite the pair. They’ll be feeding off each other’s panic the whole way there.
“They say it’s safer than driving,” he tries.
“They do say that.”
“Doesn’t mean shit can’t go wrong, though.”
She raises a brow. “That’s the spirit. Crash over a random lake and have to row our way back on a broken wing?”
“Sure. Sure. Or, crash in the middle of nowhere. Get lost in a desert in Arizona. Have to fend for ourselves, eating snakes and scorpions.”
She huffs. “Go big or go home. Crash in Alaska. Get stuck in miles of snow with no sign of life for days or weeks. Have to fight off polar bears and drink melted snow.”
It’s a morbid discussion. Probably bad luck, but oddly enough, talking about it takes the power out of the possibility when it’s just words like any other conversation.
It calms her down enough that she’s not hyperventilating like she thought she’d be, and he seems to appreciate the distraction, too, nodding thoughtfully like all of this makes perfect sense as the plane finally levels out.
A woman with two small girls shoots them the most horrified look from across the aisle. “Can you two stop? You’re scaring the children.”
“Shit, sorry,” Theo winces at his own curse when the mother gasps even harder.
Nora holds up her hands in mock surrender, mouthing her own silent apology before turning to her newest partner in crime when it comes to emotionally scarring kids for life, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.
“It’s not even noon, and we’ve already incurred the wrath of other passengers. Solid work. Have a drink with me?”
Well crap. That sounded more like flirting than she intended.
Not that she wouldn’t…
Not that he would even consider it…
Last she checked her reflection in the bathroom mirror, her under-eye circles made her look like she’s seen a few hauntings, and her hair was falling out of its ponytail.
She’s not exactly putting in the effort on a level that would get her even a one-night stand from someone like him. And yet…what if?
No. Absolutely not. It would be weird. His brother is marrying her best friend. The last thing Nora needs to do is join the Mile High Club with Theo in some anxiety-induced attempt to feel something.
He doesn’t look the type anyway.
She’s pretty sure she isn’t, either.
“In-flight drink,” she clarifies, clearing her throat. “I could use something to take the edge off, that’s all. I left all my Xanax at home. Which is also a lie because I’m not allowed within fifty feet of Xanax.”
Okay, she needs to shut up before she starts telling a stranger her whole life story. It’s not her fault that something about him makes her want to talk.
“I’d offer you some of mine, but you know what they say about taking drugs from strangers.”
“That it’s like taking candy from strangers? You shouldn’t?”
“Pretty much.” That hint of a blush trying to creep across his face deepens as he holds her stare for a moment before looking away. “In-flight drink it is.”
Soon enough, they have two very small glasses of liquid relaxation from the flight attendant and a movie queuing up on their dual monitors.
She’s halfway into her mini margarita, which earned her an impressed look from Theo, and may have been a strong choice but she’s not regretting it.
Not when it’s fuzzing her brain enough that those thoughts of a past life, and how everything she touches turns to ash one way or another, all just fade into the background.
She’s comfortably numb. Not worried about the plane going down. Not worried that Theo might think her an addict with how she ordered another drink before the movie ended.
“There’s a two-drink maximum. It would be a shame not to use it,” she tells him.
He doesn’t talk much, and that’s a plus in her book.
He makes these little amused sounds at the movie when something funny happens and nods in agreement when she comments.
She’s happy to let herself drift next to a nice man who smells like sugared hand soap and a faint hint of motor oil.
An odd combination, but it’s not bad. She quite likes it.
Wants to ask him what he does for a living, but holds her tongue. For now.
“Never been to Alaska?” he says suddenly, when the third movie finishes and they begin to descend. “First time?”
“Never. Gwen said once I get there, I may never leave. I’m secretly hoping she might be right. I could use a fresh start. Maybe find what’s missing somewhere out in the wild, you know? Sorry…I overshare.”
“I don’t think that’s oversharing. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
“Me too.”
She’s about to ask him the same question when a flight attendant picks up the phone attached to a wall and then rushes toward the head of the plane.
“That’s not exactly instilling confidence,” she mutters.
Then the whole aircraft jerks and shifts, sending her drink tumbling off the folding table and onto the patterned carpet.
“Just turbulence,” Theo says calmly, though she’s not sure if he’s trying to convince her or himself.
When it happens again, jolting them back and forth while another flight attendant reassures them over the loudspeaker before scurrying down the aisle, her gut sinks.
It doesn’t let up, not for a second, and the puff of black smoke outside their window coming from a wing isn’t doing anything to ease her stress.
The turbulence is relentless, slamming through the cabin like a whirlwind, rattling the overhead bins, sending a drink cart careening sideways before someone throws their body against it to stop it from tipping onto one of those little girls they scared earlier.
Someone screams.
A baby shrieks.
The lights flicker overhead.
She can’t help but lean over Theo to get a better look out the window.
Something in her needs to see it because it can’t be real.
It’s only her mind playing tricks. No chance the plane is actually on fire, that would be crazy, except it is on fire, and when they begin a sharp descent, she tumbles right into Theo’s lap, feeling his arms grab her tight just before the plane straightens out again.
He’s the only thing that keeps her from flying headfirst into the seat in front of them.
The noise outside is a deafening, angry howl of wind and something else, metallic and scraping, like the engine is screaming right along with the rest of them.
She scrambles to get back in her seat. She could swear he physically picks her up and shoves her into it out of desperation.
His quick hands force her seatbelt to click together when her own tremble too hard to do it herself, and then they’re free-falling, the force of it slamming them backward again.
A violent lurch pulls the cabin sideways. Overhead compartments burst open, and a laptop sails past her shoulder and cracks somewhere behind them. Her stomach drops so hard it feels like she left it miles up in the clouds.
Nora whispers his name in a horrified plea as if he can do something, but he can’t. No one can. All she gets in return is a panicked stare that bores right through her soul and the soft contact of his fingers brushing hers as they clutch the same armrest.
His pupils are blown wide. His breath is shallow. He doesn’t blink. He’s looking at her as if he’d rather go out seeing her face, given the choice.
If she knew she was dying today, she would have snorted a line of whatever she could get her hands on and fucked him in the bathroom without thinking twice.
Now, it’s just one more regret to add to a long list. She grabs his hand with a hard squeeze and keeps it there.
The flutter of his thumb over her knuckles would almost be sweet if they weren’t both so afraid.
“You hold on,” he grunts.
Gleaming snow-covered mountains get closer and closer out the window, rushing up to meet them in an over-eager greeting.
It’s the last thing she sees before slamming her eyes shut.
Torn between being grateful that she might see her child again, and immense anger that the rest of her life is being snatched away without her consent.
She’d become apathetic about her own survival for so long now that it’s the default behavior, hard to shake even when the worst looms close, but at the moment, all she can focus on is that she’s not ready to die yet.
Theo’s hand squeezes hers hard, and she ducks her head against his shoulder as if that could protect her face from anything coming toward her.
The impact jerks her body like a ragdoll, snow rushes into the cabin, and everything goes black.