The Unexplainable You.

Part Thirty-Five. Portland.

"Are you packed?" Asher pops his head in my room, a baseball cap propped haphazardly on his messy black hair.

I nod, zipping up my light pink suitcase. "yeah, sorry, I'm almost done. I just need to pack my backpack."

He laughs, glancing over at my pile of books sitting next to my backpack.

"You know," He says, rolling into my room, "We're only going to be gone for a week, do you really need all of those books?"

I nod absentmindedly as I grab my pleather backpack and start loading it with the things that I'll need for the plane. Headphones, my phone charger, six books, a blanket, a hefty bag of all my medications, my makeup, all the things.

"Yeah, because I'll probably read two on the way there, two on the way back and two in the middle, and I don't want to run out of books."

He smiles as he makes his way over next to me, planting a soft kiss on the top of my head. I instinctively shy away from his touch. I'm not wearing anything on my head like I usually do, and it's still a bit strange to feel someone touching my head like that.

"I think you're mom is waiting for us upstairs." He says as I scoop my bag off the floor. "We don't want to be late."

***

I guess for my make a wish I could have wished to go on an airplane, because I had never been. The only time I'd ever been out of the state was when we moved, and my dad just drove us, even though he's a freaking pilot!

Seriously though, like what?

"You excited?" Mal asks, grasping at my thigh as we wait at our gate. He's been on a plane twice, once because he flew out to Colorado for chemo treatments, once because for his graduation present our bio mom bought him a plane ticket to come see her for a week. I wasn't that jealous, of course. I mean, our mom abandoned us, and then was just trying to worm her way back into our lives about six years too late.

But that's a subject for another time.

"Now boarding flight 802 to New York City, Disabled passengers and passengers with children two or under, you may start your boarding process."

Mal wrinkles his nose at me, sticking his tongue out at me. "Do we need to get my little two year old sister on the plane?" 

I scoff, mussing his hair with my thin hand.

"Guys." Asher repremands. "Can we go? You do realize that we can board now, right? Because of," He gestures to himself, his frail body propped in his wheelchair. "This."

I nod lightly, standing up and swinging my bag over my shoulder, "Yeah, yeah, Let's go."

Since we are some of the first people to board the plane, it's practically empty. 

Asher laughs as we sit down in the front of the plane, "This is so cool."

The seat's are bigger than the one's in the back, and I was told that is because we got VIP seating for our two hour flight, which I'm not complaining, I just wish I had more time to enjoy the VIP lifestyle.

Asher and I sit together in row two, while Mal and my mom sit in row three.

I curl my knees to my chest, resting my head on Ash's shoulder, he drapes his arm around me, kissing me on the forehead.

"Are you nervous?" He asks me, his lips pressed against my ear. I shrug, my hands finding they're way to my bracelets.

"I don't know, we'll see how yours goes and then we'll find out."

He laughs, placing his hand on my back. "I see now, so I'm the guinea pig?"

I nod, grinning up at him, "You know it."

I guess I am a bit nervous, I mean, I've barely ever been out of the state, much less in the air. And I still don't know what I could wish for. A sold out concert, a shopping spree in the world's largest library, a pet, getting to meet my favorite actor, the possiblities are endless.

But none of those options seem right, not really. I don't know I guess that I just am still shocked this is even real, I mean... I don't know at this point

"Are you alright, lovely?"

I nod quickly, burying my head in his shirt.

I was planning on reading, but the second I shut my eyes, sleep overtakes me and I fall into darkness.

***

"Portland," someone mumbles, "Hey baby, wake up."

I groan, pain fueling all my joints as I open my eyes. Asher sits over me, his face soft.

"We're here!" He whispers excitedly. "Come on."

I shoot up in my seat, my eyes still heavy from sleep. He grips my hand tightly bouncing up and down as everyone else files out of the plane.

"I hope it's busy." He says happily, "I love busy cities!"

"Why?" I ask, grimacing, "Doesn't that mean more germs?"

He shrugs, running his hand through his hair. "I mean, I guess so. But on the flipside, there are so many strange people in big cities that nobody would really take the time to stare at someone like me, ya know?"

I nod, smiling at the grin stapled on his face. I guess I never really noticed how beautiful he is. Ghostly, but like the hot ghosts like in that weird Netflix show about the ghost band, but like, Asher's hotter, of course.

Finally, everybody is off the plane, and we can leave. Mal grabs the wheelchair from one of the attendants, giving them a small nod before turning back to us.

It takes the two of us to get him from the seat to the chair, which gives me a deep pit in my stomach. I didn't know how bad he was getting.

But the smile that he had as we exited the plane, his eyes finding windows revealing the city skyline, that made everything worth it.