Reaching for Stardust // Josh Kiszka

Part V

Word Count: ~4700

Warnings: drinking, some sexual content ;)

Hi <3 

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The drive to the airport felt ungodly. The morning air was thick and humid and the sky was too cloudy to see the stars–pure darkness led the way. No sun, no moon, no nothing, and I kept dozing off in the passenger seat, feeling sorry I'd let Josh talk me into sitting up there next to his dad. Josh was awake, caffeinated but only temporarily I knew, and he kept chatting with his dad and singing along to songs that were drifting listlessly in and out of my own ears. I was still in a daze when we arrived at the airport but uncomfortably alert when it came to TSA time, although we both made it through without issue. Then came the time for us to march our way through the infinite-feeling space, the fluorescent lights lining every wall and tile and creating a false daylight that guided us along.

We located a Starbucks before we found our gate which we both used to our advantage–Josh could maintain his pep while I could actually gain some–and sat outside the gate, carry-ons in front of our feet, as we sipped our drinks and people-watched, taking note of who would be boarding the plane with us.

"He looks stressed," Josh said quietly, nodding at an older man standing, leaning against the column just beyond the rows of seats, who was all tight shoulders and an even tighter face, staring at his phone.

"Sort of looks like he's waiting for someone," I said, taking another drink. I looked past him, half-expecting to see someone else rushing up to meet their friend or husband or whatever he may be, but the back and forth of the external crowd kept moving. I was feeling a little stressed myself with the caffeine triggering more anxiety than excitement–flying was a rarity and there was always some part of me that felt like something would go wrong, but that feeling was even more palpable now, a harsh bite against my gut that sent a red warning sign off in my head.

It must have showed in some way because Josh put his arm over my shoulders and leaned in close. "You okay?"

I nodded, sipping my drink again. "Yeah. Nervous to fly, I guess."

"It'll be okay," Josh assured me. "It's always better once we're fully in the air, right?" He knew how much I hated take-off. On the other hand, he loved it.

The shuffle to our seats was slow and it felt laborious, everything and everyone so cramped, but we eventually got our bags in the overhead compartments and settled into our seats. Josh gave me the window and I was immediately fixated on the outside of the plane even without being in motion, trying to sink myself into our surroundings so I could sink the heavy feeling that was still torturing me. I didn't even necessarily think anything bad was going to happen during the flight–the feeling wasn't that specific–but it felt like something dangerous was coming.

I froze up against the seat when take-off began; Josh took my hand and held it gently between us, not saying anything. He didn't need to. The contact, that soft touch, was enough to make the bad feeling drift a little further away and remind me that the literal physical, lurching feeling of our ascent was temporary–I squeezed his hand when things got a little rocky, as they always did, and kept my eyes out the window, watching the wing gradually tilt more and more, and then we were really soaring.

"Here," Josh said, handing me the right earbud of his wireless set. I put it in my ear and Van Morrison was there, giving me some words about searching his soul that felt so right on that it was as though both he and Josh could read my mind. With that and the scenery below me, the two hours began to fly by. I watched the streams of clouds, stared down at the blue rivers, distant green fields and the terracotta mountains that looked so shallow and small from way up above, listened to Van in my right ear and the subdued chatter of passengers in the left, while Josh intermittently stroked my hand, arm and leg, lost in his own world of the book he'd smartly brought along. I always liked watching him read, honestly–he couldn't control his facial expressions with anyone or anything, certainly not when he was by himself with a book, and I observed him for a couple minutes here and there between gazing out the window. Soon enough, the pilot was announcing our descent and Josh was squeezing my hand to keep me level.