Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 64966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
“We can definitely take some time to do a little sightseeing. I think it sounds fun.”
Daniel smiled at me and burrowed into my arms. He ended up falling asleep tucked under my chin, with his head on my chest. As I held him and absently stroked his hair, I had to wonder what I was getting myself into.
10
Malcolm
I’d purposely booked an early flight, so I wouldn’t have to worry about it all day. That seemed like a terrible decision the next morning, when my alarm went off at five a.m.
We hurried through our morning routine before taking a cab to the airport. After we checked in, we still had over an hour until our flight boarded—and that was the perfect opportunity for my anxiety to start to ratchet up.
I sat in the boarding area with my sunglasses on, as music blasted through my headphones and my left knee bounced uncontrollably. When Daniel touched my arm, I jumped. Then I hung the headphones around my neck, so I could hear what he was saying.
“I got us some coffee.” He touched my cheek, and his brows knit with concern. “Are you okay, Mal?”
“I didn’t think it would be such a small plane.”
“What?”
“It’s a small plane, smaller than I’d anticipated. I didn’t check ahead of time. I’d just assumed it would be a decent size, since San Francisco and Vancouver are both major destinations. It’s not like we’re flying to some remote backwater. My cross-country flight a few weeks ago hadn’t stressed me out this badly, because that was on a massive jumbo jet. There’s no logic to it, I know, but I do better on bigger planes.”
Fucking hell, I was completely rambling. Daniel took my hand and said, “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Mal. We can walk right out of this terminal, rent a car, and drive to Canada. It would probably only take us a day to get there.”
I shook my head. “We can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I have to prove to myself that I can do this. If I give in to my fear and bail out now, I might never get on another plane. That’s not okay. I have to be able to travel, both for my job, and because there are still so many places I want to see in the world.” After a moment, I added, very quietly, “I’m not ready to give up on myself.”
“Will you let me help?” When I nodded, he gently took my face between his hands and rested his forehead against mine. “Breathe with me, Mal. Take a deep breath, in through your nose, and out through your mouth. That’s all you have to do in this moment. Just breathe.”
I followed his instructions. After a few moments, I whispered, “Please keep talking. It helps.”
“What should I talk about?”
“Literally anything. I want to focus on the sound of your voice.”
“Okay. So, did I ever tell you about my housemates? I have six of them, and we all live in a funky pink Victorian near Delores Park. A new housemate moved in last night, and he’s astonishingly clumsy. Literally within sixty seconds of arriving, he managed to cause a massive chain reaction and trash the entire kitchen.”
For the next half hour or so, he kept me distracted with funny stories about the people he lived with. It worked, too—he managed to take my mind off the upcoming flight, until the announcement came over the loudspeaker that they were beginning boarding. I jerked upright and moved my sunglasses to the top of my head, and he caught my hand and said, “You’ve got this, Mal. Just breathe.”
On his advice, we ended up being the last passengers to board the plane. After we took our seats in first class and buckled up, he laced his fingers with mine and said, “I’ve got you, Mal. Just keep listening to the sound of my voice.”
I closed my eyes, and he kept talking about anything that came to mind. When the flight attendant checked in with us, he asked for blankets and pillows and proceeded to tuck me in, while continuing his monologue.
My anxiety started to spike again during takeoff, but Daniel squeezed my hand and leaned against me. Then he said, “I know what you need to do. Think about my butt.”
A laugh slipped from me—something I wouldn’t have thought I was capable of in that moment. “Why?”
“Why not? It’s a really good butt.”
“It’s better than that. It’s world class.”
“Why, thank you. I should have a T-shirt made that says ‘world class ass’ across the chest. On the other side I’ll print a gold crown, right above my waistband.” My breathing sped up as the plane began to taxi down the runway, so he said, “Stay with me, Mal. Hey, speaking of my butt, I packed a ton of super cute underwear for this trip. It’s a bunch of stuff you haven’t seen me in yet—lacy things, and sporty things, and some that are just downright nasty.”