Worth The Feeling

Chapter 10

I had to change my shirt twice before leaving for the airport. Every time I thought about getting onto the plane, I started to sweat so much that I must be dehydrated several times over by now. And maybe I was, maybe that’s why I felt so lightheaded standing in front of my gate. That combined with the fact that I refuse to sit down. I feel like hopping from foot to foot will keep my anxiety at bay.

I start to see some familiar faces trickle in, which helps a little. Most of the hair and makeup team are here now. I gave a weak wave to Sophie who returned it, but didn’t seem to take it as a friendly enough invitation to come over. I see a few other PAs, most of whom are trying to sleep on the floor before we board. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who took advantage of the lack of call time this morning. Their green-ish hue screamed ‘hangover’. I know that I don’t look much better, though my green has nothing to do with alcohol. By the time it’s ten minutes to board, my anxiety is kicked into overdrive. I haven’t seen anyone from the sound crew come over to our terminal. I take out my phone and notice I have three missed calls from Lana.

Shit.

I call her back immediately.

“Ava?” She sounds worried as soon as she answers.

“Hey!” I do my best to sound cheerful.

“Shit, you’re freaking out. Ava, I am so sorry. I’ve been trying to call you. They switched sound and lighting’s flight last minute. I have no idea why.”

I do. I mean I must have done something horrible to have this much bad karma back to back. I feel my arms go tingly. I had been dreading the flight enough, even knowing that Lana would be next to me to hold my hand. Now what do I do?

“I did what I could but…you know. I don’t exactly carry a lot of power around here.” She lets out a small, curt laugh. I know she’s trying to ease my tension, and my heart squeezes at her effort, but it hasn’t slowed down.

“Are you okay?” Lana asks, softer now.

“Oh, yeah. Thank you for letting me know. But, you know, I can find someone who can, you know. Yeah.”

“Okay you don’t sound good.”

“I’m sorry, um…when are you going to get to Italy?” I feel like I’m going to cry, and I should probably ask something else if I want to prevent that from happening.

“I’ll be there tomorrow at the earliest. I think Lloyd will have the airline’s head on a stick if the crew isn’t there by tomorrow night.”

“Right,” I take a deep breath.

“You know how much I wish I could hold your hand. But you’ve done this before. You have a lot of the crew with you. You’ll be okay.”

“Right,” I repeat.

“Is Barb there?”

“She was supposed to be, but I don’t see her.” I do a quick glance at the other people waiting at my gate, but I don’t really register any faces.

“Well maybe she’ll be nearby. And at the very least, you know she’s there with you and I’m right behind you.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll look for Barb. Thanks Lana…I’m sorry your flight is switched.”

“Me too, babes. Good luck and I’ll talk to you when you land. You’ve got this.”

“Alright, bye.”

As soon as I hang up the phone, boarding begins. At this point, I’m wondering how badly I need my shitty PA salary. Pretty badly, since I live alone and am currently paying for school. Could I drop out? Could I walk to the other side of America and take a ferry over to Europe? I’ve always wanted to go to Italy, truthfully. But getting there is a whole other story. And as they call my section for boarding, my legs get increasingly shaky with each step I take toward the plane.

I don’t hear the flight attendants as they welcome me, and I feel like a zombie walking past first class. I’m almost all the way at the back of the plane, and by the time I finally see my seat, it’s the first time I feel like I really want to sit down. I think I need to sit down, because the longer I stand the tighter the walls seem.

I settle in, putting my backpack under the seat in front of me before resting my head back. I close my eyes and try to picture a wide open space and soft, safe ground. Ground that will soon be about ten thousand feet below me. I feel like I’m going to be sick. I squeeze my eyes tighter and grip the arm rests. I know one of these seats would have belonged to Lana, and I’m not sure if her seat would have been sold. I hope not. I think I would rather be alone than flying next to a stranger.

I can hear an attendant begin the safety announcements, and I think it’s best to tune it out. I can barely function when the plane is on the ground, so I have no hope for myself in a disaster scenario, even if I do pay attention now. Maybe I should put my headphones in or something to drown it out. But then I remember the rule about turning off cellphones during take off, and I decide just to stay frozen in the position I’m in, my hands straining against the plastic.

But then I hear shuffling next to my little row, and I send up silent prayers that whoever it is won’t be joining me on either of the seats beside me. I don’t have to pray for long, because my hopes are dashed when I feel someone settled next to me on my left. Great. Now I might have to give up one of the arm rests, relinquishing my stress toy. Maybe that would be a good thing, my hands already feel sore. I take a deep breath and try to focus on easing my grip, and I get a waft of something alluring and familiar. Something musky and… cedarwood.

I crack my eyes open just to peek, and sure enough, a pair of very concerned brown eyes are watching me carefully. My eyes fully fly open now.

“I thought you might need some company.” Pedro says softly.

“I…you’re in first class. You…I didn’t even know talent was on this flight.” God, it was already hard to breathe before he was here. I try looking at him out of the corner of my eye instead.

“I was in first class, but I felt like making a trade today.”

“A trade?”

Pedro nods, “With Barb. I would have been here sooner but the airline gave us a hard time about switching.”

“I bet she was ecstatic.”

“She had already finished two mini bottles by the time I left first class.” His smile is playful, and despite my nerves, I laugh.

“I’m not sure which seat was Lana’s, but the one I actually swapped Barb for is a few rows back. I’m assuming Lana isn’t coming though.”

I nod, laying my head back again as I remember that we’re about to take off.

“You don’t want the window?” Pedro asks.

I shake my head. “I would like the opposite of being reminded of how high up we’re going to be.”

“In that case…” Pedro steps over me, sitting in the window seat, and promptly closing the blind. He then positions himself in front of the covered window. “There. Now you only have to deal with this,” He gestures to his face and gives me a devilish smile. I start giggling, but that quickly makes tears spring to my eyes.

“Hey, hey…” Pedro leans toward me, and gently pries my right hand off of the arm rest, placing our then entwined hands in his lap.

“I know it’s ridiculous,” my voice is sputtery, and I’m trying really hard not to let the tears overflow now.

“It’s not.” He whispers.

The plane starts to move, and I close my eyes again. I can feel us bumping along the tarmac, and I know the worst part, takeoff, is coming up. Subconsciously, I squeeze Pedro’s hand. He gives me three light squeezes back before running small circles across the back of my hand with his thumb. We start picking up speed, and with it my breathing hitches. I’m worried this is going to turn into a full-blown panic attack now.

“Ava,” Pedro says quietly.

“Mhm?” My lips remain a tight line, my eyes still screwed shut.

“Did I ever tell you I can read palms?”

“Um, what? No…” Why is he talking about this right now?

“I can. I’m really good at it.” He flips my hand, resting it in his left palm. He separates our fingers, and brings his right hand on top of mine. “I was on location for a film a few years back, and one of the locals taught me and my co-star. She said that the art of palm reading had been passed down from generation to generation in her family. It's a very old art, and they believe it to be one of the most accurate ways of telling one’s future.”

He starts drawing indecipherable shapes on my palm with his forefinger. The movement makes me open my eyes, curious if I can figure out what shape he’s drawing if I can actually see it.

“This right here,” He draws a line at the top of my palm, “is your heart line. Yours is quite long, meaning that you will have many friends and possibly lovers throughout your life. It also means that you have a big heart, lots of compassion.”

I just stare at him, confused. He barely looks up before he continues, unfazed.

“This,” he draws a line vertically, “is your health line. You will have excellent health, but suffer from the common cold a lot more often than those around you.”

I let out a brief laugh. “That’s true, actually.”

“I told you I’m good.” He gives me a brief, sly smile. “Finally, this is your life line. It’s also quite long. Meaning that you will land safely in Italy and all of this will just be a silly memory.”

He continues to brush his fingers over my palm, and I narrow my eyes at him.

“You made all of that up.”

“Oh, all of it,” he says matter-of-factly.

“So you’re a liar?”

“No. I’m a damn good distraction.”

I look at him, puzzled.

“You did it, Ava. You’re in the air. It’s all smooth sailing from here.”

I look around, not like that will necessarily help me discern where we are, but when I take in the feeling of the plane around me and the seat underneath me, I realize that we are in fact flying. We’re not even climbing at a steep rate right now, it feels like we’ve almost leveled out.

I feel like I can look at him now without having an onslaught of heart palpitations.

“Thank you.” I say sincerely.

He just gives me a knowing smile.

“How did you know?” I ask.

“You mentioned it to me when we went to dinner.”

I hadn’t even remembered that. I must’ve said it in passing.

“Oh my god, and Barb mentioned you had asked about what plane the crew was on. You’re sneaky.”

“All I’m hearing is that you and Barb were talking about me.” His smile turns flirtatious, teasing. My heart tugs, remembering our last conversation before this one. And how nothing has changed. We still can’t risk each other’s careers, and it’s probably not even wise of us to be holding hands on a flight with at least one hundred strangers surrounding us.

He must have noticed that my face fell, because he pulls my chin toward him, making me look him in the eyes.

“Let’s not think about it,” he whispers. “At least not for now.”

I search his eyes for a moment, trying to figure out why he would even bother doing this for me. Why give up his fancy first class seat? Why risk watchful eyes seeing our entangled hands? Why play with my heart if we both know how this ends?

Despite all of those things, I still find myself nodding. “Okay.”

“How do you think you’re feeling now? Still anxious?” He asks.

“Oh yeah. I’ll be anxious the whole flight, that’s usually how it goes.”

“It’s a redeye. Can you sleep on planes?”

“Usually no, but sometimes I think my body gets so tired of being anxious that it will shut down.”

“Ahh,” He presses his lips together, nodding. “In that case, I’d like to distract you a little longer if that’s alright with you.”

I smirk at him. “What distractions did you have in mind?” I don’t mean it to sound suggestive, but it’s like my vocal chords protest against an appropriate tone when I’m talking to Pedro.

“Tell me about your parents,” he looks sincere and relaxed, leaning back in his seat a little. His hand is still holding mine.

Okay, that question will definitely keep things PG.

“Oh. Um…they’re pretty great, actually.” I smile to myself.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I don’t get to see them as much as I’d like. Flights across the country aren’t exactly cheap and with work and school I probably wouldn’t have the time even if I had the money. But we call each other every so often. They’re both accountants so it was a very creative household,” my voice drips in sarcasm, “They don’t really understand my love for the industry. But they’re supportive, they ask questions.”

“How’d they feel about the move to California?”

“They weren’t thrilled. New York was a lot easier to stomach for them than the other side of the country. They also really loved John, so they weren’t thrilled with that situation either. I think it was kind of like losing a son for them. They’d known him for a long time.”

Pedro’s gaze hardens for a minute, but he nods, still looking to take in information.

“Do you have any siblings?” he asks after a moment.

“Nope. I’m a spoiled only child.”

“I don’t get the spoiled vibe from you.”

“What tipped you off? The fact that you’ve already seen me rewear the same five outfits about twenty times?” I do a little shimmy, referencing downward to my classic PA wear of jeans and a t-shirt.

He chuckles lightly. “I was more so thinking of the way that you treat people. Barb spoke very highly of you.”

I scoff, “I’m not buying it. Barb doesn’t speak highly of anyone.”

“Okay fine,” he chuckles again, “It was more of what she didn’t say. She can complain about anyone on set, but she had nothing bad to say about you. And she did say you’re a hard worker and she’s never heard you complain. She said the last part in sort of an irritated way though.”

I laugh a little now, too. “She would probably like me more if I complained with her. And if you ask Lana, she’ll tell you I complain plenty.”

“You two are really close, huh?”

I nod, “Lana’s my family out here. I know she felt horrible that she couldn’t come with me today, but it’s not even her fault.”

Pedro’s thumb starts rubbing circles on my hand again, looking a little bit concerned. I imagine he’s hoping I don’t start with the tears again. But strangely, that feeling seems really far away right now.

“It’s your turn,” I say.

“My turn for what?”

“To tell me about your family. You always want me to do all the talking,” I tease.

“Not true. And you still haven’t Googled?”

“Nope. I told you, inhumane.”

He smiles, maybe even a little relieved that I hadn’t researched him still. Not that any of that would matter to me. There couldn’t be anything online about him that would alter the man in front of me. I bet they didn’t even know he could read palms.

“Well, they’re also pretty great,” His face brightens, smiling to himself about memories only available to him. “They’re also in New York, and I also don’t get to see them very often. Not in pursuit of a master’s degree, of course, but this job can get sort of hectic. As you know. But we talk on the phone a lot, too.”

“Siblings?”

“Two of them. Two sisters, and I have two nephews now too.”

“You’re close with them too.” It wasn’t a question, I could tell by his expression and how his voice softened mentioning them. His soft voice was starting to lull me a little, and I felt a yawn creeping up on me. I didn’t want to release it in fear that Pedro would think I didn’t want to know about his family. Truthfully, hearing about them was relaxing. Hearing his voice talk about something he loved was soothing, and I feel like my body was finally coming out of fight or flight.

“Very much so.”

“They must think you’re pretty cool, first class tickets and red carpets.” That yawn is really threatening me now. My lip trembles.

“Would you just yawn already please?” I look up at him, embarrassed, but his smile is full of affection.

“No, I want to hear your stories.”

“I can see your eyelids drooping.”

“You just don’t want me to know all your secrets. You’re trying to force me to Google you.”

“I’m glad you haven’t…” he starts to brush his fingers up and down my arm, and I worry that I’ll get goosebumps. “But I would still like you to try to sleep.”

At the mention of the word, I finally let my yawn come out. I rest my head back against the headrest once more, finally out of exhaustion instead of panic.

“Who said I was even tired?” I joke.

“You’d feel better if your first day in Italy wasn’t consumed by jet lag. You know I’m right.” I can hear the smugness in his voice, but my eyes continue to drift shut.

“Fine. You’re right.” I fully shut my eyes now, already feeling my head nodding to one side. Pedro continues brushing his fingertips up and down my arm, and I sigh.

“You are wrong about one thing though,” I say, fighting sleep.

“What’s that?” I can hear his smile even in his whisper.

“This won’t be a silly memory… You remembered I was afraid of flying... And you helped me.”

I’m vaguely aware of my head drooping to my right, and landing on Pedro’s shoulder. And I swear I hear him murmur something against my temple, but sleep has already found me.