Here Comes the Sun

The Plane

"I'm really not that interesting," Eleanor protested. Nicolas shook his head, smile plastered to his face, like it never left.
The only time she saw him without a smile was when she first spilt her coffee on his expensive suit.
"But you really are; you're entertaining more than anything," he said, shaking his head.
The blush on her face returned and she held a hand up to one of her cheeks, trying to cool it down and shield her embarrassment at the same time.
"I'm a clutz," Eleanor said, leaning her face down; and it was true. Eleanor was the least graceful person to walk this earth since the first Neanderthal learned how to walk with two feet.
Nicolas laughed and smoothed his suit down, looking at it, then at her.
"No doubt about that,"
Eleanor's blush continued to rage on and she threw her other hand on her face, no longer caring if Nicolas saw her red cheeks.
"Don't feel bad, I own more suits than you could count, and this one is an old and ugly one," he said, prying one of Eleanor's hands off her face.
Elle glanced at the suit Nicolas claimed to be an old and ugly one; if that suit was old and ugly then Eleanor was wearing literally trash.
Just then a shift in the seats made Elle's eyes travel to the seat next to Nicolas. A large, very buff man, plopped down in the aisle seat, staring them down.
"Ah, Remy! This was the young girl I was telling you about; the one who spilt coffee on me?"
Remy eyed Elle carefully, as if he was a man deprived from water and Eleanor was a fresh glass of pure spring. Elle squirmed in her seat and turned to look out of the window again.
"Remy! Don't scare the poor girl! She's a friend, she's fine," Nicolas said, his hand touching her shoulder on the word 'friend'.
Just then the plane began to back away from the gate, shaking as it pulled away from the gateway.
Nicolas' face suddenly drained of color and his hands flew to the armrests, latching on tightly. Elle watched as he started to breathe heavily and leaned his head down.
"Are you alright?" Eleanor asked, setting a gentle hand on his arm.
He pursed his lips and his hands became white knuckled as he gripped harder.
"It's fine, I just, I don't like flying that's all," he said through his teeth.
Eleanor suppressed a laugh and looked out the window; the plane was slowly making its way down the track.
"We aren't even flying yet," she said.
"We aren't even flying yet," he said, mimicking Eleanor. Elle tried to suppress a smile at his childishness.
"He's always like that, sorry," Remy piped up from the aisle, sounding genuinely regretful.
"No it's totally okay, my mom gets super scared on boats and she acts the same way; which sounds kind of weird but that's who she is," Elle explained; Remy nodded understandingly.
The plane began to book it down the runway, gaining speed so it could take off into the sky; in a way that's what Elle's life felt like right now, about to take off into the next portion of her life.
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"So Eleanor, tell me, what brings your beautiful self to the beautiful state of Louisiana?"
Elle eyed Nicolas carefully; he was completely panicked the first half of the flight but as soon as the seatbelt sign turned off he had eased into his seat, sighing deeply, and now he was speaking to her as if nothing had happened.
"Uh, I'm looking at going to college there, I have a tour booked," she said absentmindedly, worried he was gonna jump off the plane or something.
"That's great! College is exciting!" Nicolas said. Elle laughed nervously, thinking about it herself. College could be exciting or it could be a complete bust; it was the latter that scared her the most.
"Yeah, are you in college? Or are you still in high school?"
Nicolas glanced down at his shoes for a fraction of a second before he looked back up at Eleanor.
"I'm in my last year of school this year but I'm not sure if university is a good idea for me, personally," he sounded regretful as he said this.
"That's good for some people I guess... I just, I have always dreamed of the whole college thing ya know? I've always just wanted to leave home and be who I am and not who my parents want me to be," Elle said, refusing to let her mind wander to grim memories.
"I know how that can feel, honestly," Nicolas' eyes softened as he searched her own for a connection. Eleanor looked away, glancing at the clouds beneath her. She had always been good at talking to people she didn't know all too well, but these subjects were getting a bit dark for someone she had just met.
Her parents were always wary of her meeting strangers and speaking to them, especially openly; Elle could feel the ghostly metallic taste in her mouth from when she was a child, boasting about her grades and how old she was. It was a normal thing for a child to talk about, but her parents dragged her away from the nice old lady and proceeded to smack her until she bled.
Eleanor shook the uncomfortable memory out of her mind and turned her eyes back towards her new friend.
"Anyways how old are you? Where do you live?" Elle asked, trying to keep her voice up and light, but hearing a tinge of weakness in it.
"Well I'm actually turning 18 tomorrow if you can believe it; and I live in Denmark," he said quietly, his hands were beginning to grasp at the armrests again. Elle hadn't even noticed that the seatbelt sign had clicked back on.
"That's amazing! Happy birthday!" Eleanor said a bit too brightly, trying to keep his attention on her and not the metal beast in midair.
"Thank you, and what about you? What's your story eh?" Nicolas asked, obviously trying to settle his own nerves.
That took Elle by surprise. What was her story?
"Well... I am a senior, I just graduated today actually. I turn nineteen in about two weeks, on the 21st; I was born in London apparently, but my parents freak out whenever I mention it. Cause I'm adopted," she said, her thoughts wandering back to some old conversations. She would've never known she was from England, except for the fact that she had found her birth certificate when she was about 14, and she wanted to know why her birth place was listed as outside of the u.s. Nobody ever really gave her a definitive answer accept that she was from there. Elle was never supposed to see that, not until she was 18 apparently.
"Adopted? Don't you know who your parents are? Don't you want to know?" The young mans question was invasive but Eleanor suppressed her angry comment, thinking that things must be different where he was. And besides, this wasn't something she wanted to start a fight about on a crowded plane she couldn't leave.
"I mean my parents have been my parents all my life, they aren't perfect but they are mine. I guess one day I'll find my real parents but to be honest I'm just scared of what my mother would do," Eleanor regretted her last words the minute they left her mouth. Her hand flew up to her mouth, holding the skin there, as if to catch the offensive word before it reached Nicolas' ears.
"Do?"
"She would just be angry that's all," Elle lamely said. He may be thinking the worst, and he'd be right; she didn't want him to get involved, so she'd just blow it off.
"How angry?"
"She'd just be upset with me, maybe send me to bed without dinner," Elle laughed half-heartedly and shrugged. Nicolas pursed his lips and then opened them to say something, but the shaking of the plane hitting turbulence stopped Nicolas' talking completely. His hands were now clutched onto the seat, white knuckled; his eyes shut tightly. Elle smiled and laid her head back, enjoying the silence.
Her eyes began to wander around the cabin; the bumpy up and down rhythm of the plane felt nice against her body and she felt more relaxed than before. She noticed the occasional curious glance coming from Remy but she honestly couldn't care less. She was on a plane flight that could determine her whole life; whether or not her parents knew that.
Eleanor shut her eyes and tried to let herself drift into a nice sleep before the plane's decent.
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She felt a soft hand on her shoulder before she felt the echoing boom of the plane's wheels on the ground.
Elle's eyes fluttered open and she saw Nicolas' eyes on her; his hand laid flat on her shoulder blade.
"Sorry to wake you, but we are almost to the ground, I didn't want the landing to scare you," he said, smiling at her.
Eleanor rubbed her face and sat up, looking out the window and seeing the fast approaching ground.
"Thank you, most people aren't that kind," Elle said, glancing back at him. He looked more content than she'd ever seen him on this flight. Perhaps it was because it was almost over.
"Of course!" He replied.
She turned back toward the window, seeing the main road to the airport pass underneath them, and a moment later the wheels hit the Tarmac of the airport. Elle heard a sigh of relief to her side and she grinned.
"Feels good to be back on the ground right?" She said, looking back at Nicolas.
He smiled at her and nodded vigorously.
"I don't know if you could tell but I'm pretty scared of flying," he said, pulling out his cell phone and powering it on. Remy had already had his phone out and he was now texting rapidly, with a fixed expression on his face.
"You don't say?" Elle laughed. Nicolas' face turned a light shade of pink and she felt triumphant; she wasn't the one blushing this time. It was him.
Nicolas lightly punched her on the shoulder as they rolled up to the gate.
The seatbelt sign clicked off and Elle immediately stood up, relishing in the rush of blood to the rest of her body.
Nicolas stood up a moment later, and Remy was already gone, talking hurriedly on the phone to someone as he walked to the bathrooms.
"Well it was wonderful meeting you today, I hope we see eachother again," Nicolas broke Elle's curiosity over what exactly Remy was talking about.
Her gaze went back again to the kind boy who she had spilt coffee on.
"I really will pay for another suit if you want me to, I honestly feel horrible," she said, feeling guilty again.
He waved her comment away and looked towards the aisle, where people began to walk.
"I hope we meet again," he said, his hand reaching for hers again, to kiss her goodbye.
"I hope we do too," she murmured as his lips left her knuckles; and with one last lingering smile he was gone.