Page 5 of Fear of Flying
His seatmate averted his eyes for just a second and shifted slightly in his seat. “I, uh—that’s what I hear, anyway.”
“From Superman?” Zach stifled a giggle, insanely glad for the universe’s small diversion and sense of humor.
Mr. Incredibly Hot and Has a Great Ass had the grace to look caught dead to rights, and he put his hands palms up, shrugging his shoulders and pursing his lips. “The man is an expert on the subject matter.”
“The fictional man?” Zach raised his eyebrows, enjoying this far, far too much. “Plus, isn’t that statistic a bit out of date—from 1978?”
“Ah!” The man pointed a finger at Zach. “You mock me, yet you know not only the movie it came from but also the exact year it was released. What gives?”
God, the grin on the man’s face was arresting, and for a moment, Zach couldn’t think of words to say. But then he managed to recover. “My best friend, Jen, is a huge nerd for Superman.”
“A fan by proxy, then.” The man chuckled. “Well, Jen has good taste in superheroes, so I assume she has good taste in friends...” He raised his eyebrows in question and stuck his hand out for Zach to shake. “I’m Drew.”
His voice was rich, his eyes still sparkling with amusement. God, Zach wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to stop staring.
“Zach. I’m Zach,” he said, reaching out to take the man’s hand.
And when their hands touched, Zach felt a surge of heat spark through him, unexpected and a bit exhilarating. Drew’s handshake was firm, as was Zach’s, but Drew was pulling his hand back after a second, his eyes staring down at where their hands had met.
They were both silent for a long moment, Zach awkwardly putting the magazine back in the seat-back pocket and Drew adjusting his watch on his left wrist. Zach’s eyes darted down to Drew’s ring finger—bare and no sign of a tan line. Not that... it meant... It didn’t necessarily mean anything. Besides, his gaydar had never quite worked properly. Maybe Drew hadn’t even felt the spark. Who feels sparks anyway? Isn’t that just... movie and TV nonsense?
“So, uh, Zach”—Drew cleared his throat—“are you flying home or just starting your trip?”
“Ah, I’m heading home to Albuquerque, with a layover in Dallas. You?”
“Changing planes in Pittsburgh to head for Dallas, which is home.”
God, he was from Texas. Zach had to fight a groan and a frown. At least Drew seemed cool, despite his state of residence.
Zach apparently had no control over his facial features right now because Drew was raising an eyebrow at him again.
“You... have opinions about Dallas?” Drew asked, and Zach couldn’t tell if Drew’s tone was amused or mildly challenging.
“Ah... nope. It’s a... I hear it’s a fine city. Lots of great things to do! Great—great people,” Zach said, fumbling for words as his social anxiety flared.
Drew chuckled, and the sound set off a thousand butterflies in Zach’s stomach. “You’ve got a terrible poker face,” Drew said, smiling briefly but then shifting his eyes away. “But, uh, I’m not... I’m not a Cowboys’ fan, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
It seemed like Drew had been about to say something else but then changed his mind. Either way, put one back down in the “pros” column for Drew that he wasn’t a football-lovin’ Texan. “That’s good. Uh, a relief.” Zach laughed nervously.
God, Jen was too up in his head right now. Zach was not here to flirt with a man who may or may not be gay. A man who was currently giving him a broad, amused smile—a killer smile that might kill Zach dead right now before the flight had a chance to kill him.
The butterflies in his stomach suddenly traded out for angry bees when Zach realized the plane was ready for takeoff and already backing up—the flight attendants doing their final checks as the captain announced they would be in the air shortly. His whole body tensed, and he was certain he wasn’t feeling even a trickle from the air vent now. God, it was hot in here, and a bit hard to breathe. He’d somehow missed that terrible moment when they’d just straight up turned the air off. But he could feel it now. The air stale and heavy. And much, much too warm.
The plane shifted and started rolling forward slowly, a behemoth of metal and a million other materials, filled with too many people and their heavy luggage. It was about to start hurtling down the runway at an ungodly speed and then lift into the air like some absolute affront to physics. It just...
Zach swallowed thickly.
He didn’t need to reach up to the air vent. It was off. He knew it. And he tried, really tried not to think about the fact that the plane apparently needed that power—the power from dozens of barely trickling air vents—to achieve liftoff.
Zach flexed his hands, stretching out his fingers and curling them back into fists before finally opening them again to set them on his thighs. His stomach clenched as the front of the plane left the ground, and he knew from experience that his stomach muscles would stay in a tight knot until they reached that magical altitude and the plane leveled out again. Then he’d be able to mostly forget that he was tens of thousands of feet above the ground inside of a metal tube that was so heavy it had no right to be airborne.
Zach flinched when he heard Drew’s voice next to him, muffled by the sound of the engines and whatever the other sounds were that were accompanying their ascent. But Drew didn’t seem to notice Zach’s flinch, and he kept talking. Drew’s hand popped into Zach’s field of vision and then out of it again, and Zach realized he must have been pointing out the window.
“I love this part,” said Drew. “I think it’s the way the ground looks from here. See how everything gets smaller, more geometrical the closer you get to the clouds? Ahh, I don’t know, maybe I’m just being a bit fanciful because takeoff is pretty much as close as I can get to knowing what it’d be like to be flying with Superman. Well, other than, like, hang gliding or skydiving, I suppose— Shit, you’re really not okay. Are you okay? Are you breathing?”
“Huh?” Zach said, slightly dazed. His brain seemed to have only one speed—stopped—and his chest was tight and buzzing.
“Y-you’re just—you seemed a bit, uh... frozen in place? Like maybe you were having one of those absent seizures or something, and oh god, I’m so sorry. That’s right. You said you weren’t a fan of flying. That, uh, kind of... seems like an understatement,” Drew said, his tone gentle as he reached over to set a warm hand on top of Zach’s.