Titanium Promises

Eleven

I've never been on a private jet before. And I have to say, as my first flight experience, I know it can only go down from here. The pilots welcome us with kind smiles and the single flight attendant explains the safety features to us, along with everything including on the flight. There's an entire snack bar with drinks, and four separate booths, two on each side. Luke and I sit in the one closest to us.

"Please take your seats and put on your seatbelts," one of the captains says before sliding the separators closed. I glance around the jet nervously.

Luke notices, of course. "It's your first time flying, right?"

I nod, too worried to speak. Shit. Not a panic attack, not now. My knees start to shake and I feel my head get hot like it always does before I have a full on meltdown. This is not the time. We're on a plane, my meds are packed in my suitcase—

"Hey," Luke says. His hand slides into mine, but it doesn't make me feel any better. "It's okay to be nervous, but flying is perfectly safe."

"That's not true."

He frowns. "Fine, it's not completely true. But you have nothing to worry about."

I take a deep breath and sigh it all at. I feel my anxiety start to melt away, especially after Luke kisses my hand.

The jet gains speed on the runway, eventually lifting off the ground. I feel my stomach do a flip flop like it does on the hill of a roller coaster, and I take a glance out the window. The ground grows further and further away and I shut my eyes.

After a long moment, I feel a hand on my cheek. My eyes snap open and I see Luke standing there.

"What are you doing?" I ask, my breaths becoming harsh. "Sit down. What if there's turbulence, you could fall—"

"Reid," he says. I shut my mouth. "It's fine. We've reached cruising altitude, which means you can walk around. I was going to go check in on the captains. Are you going to be okay by yourself for a little bit?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

He drops his hand and walks past me towards the front of the plane. I take a deep breath and rub my palm with my thumb. It's supposed to help with my nerves, at least that's what my therapist said when I went my first and last time.
Luke comes back and sits down, not bothering to put on his seatbelt. He opens his mouth to say something to me, but the flight attendant appears next to us, a vibrant smile on her face.

"Can I get you anything?" she asks.

Luke glances at me, a smirk on his lips."Champagne?"

The edge of the flight attendant's lips twitch. "Ch-Champagne? May I ask how old you are, sir?"

"Two glasses, please," Luke says, ignoring her last question.

Once the flight attendant is gone, I shoot a look at Luke. "What are you doing? You're seventeen, aren't you?"

"Yep." His smirk widens. "Live a little, right?"

The flight attendant comes back with our drinks, handing a fancy glass to Luke and then one to me. I stare at the bubbles rising to the surface. I've only had alcohol one other time, and it was an accident. I was nine, and I mistook someone's white wine for my grape juice. I immediately spit it out, and half of it landed all over my dad.

"What's the deal with Maverick?" I ask, distracting myself from the glass in my hand.

"Mav is. . . complicated." Luke takes a sip of his champagne. "He's the oldest, the most experienced. He was basically my mentor. He took care of me when Mom and Dad went on their 'business trips,' though I'd barely give him any credit for watching me. He mostly just made sure I was in my room by eleven, and didn't give a shit about what I did when I was in there." He sighs. "But he was there. He was always there."