Jump | Zach Mitchell

three

"HONESTLY, I can't believe he fell asleep," I whisper. 

We haven't been up in the air for very long and Gray has already crashed.

The sun is fully up, casting the interior of the airplane in a warm white glow. People are talking and laughing. The engine's roar is loud and shrill.

Somehow, despite all this, Gray has fallen asleep.

"He didn't sleep at all last night," Zach tells me. "Too excited. Plus..." He shifts in his seat. "I might've put some NyQuil in his juice this morning."

My mouth drops open. "Zach!" I scold, smacking his arm while he laughs. "I can't believe you did that!" I shake my head, settling back into my chair. "Actually, I can believe it. You're such a dick."

"Yeah, well, I didn't want to deal with that annoying little pipsqueak voice the entire flight." Zach crosses his arms. "He never would've shut up."

"You're going to miss that one day," I tease him. "You'll be in college and you'll think, 'gee, I really miss Gray.'"

Zach snorts. "I highly doubt that." He stretches his legs out – well, as best he can in this cramped aisle. "Two years. I just have to get through two years. Then I'll be out of there for good."

"Two years and we won't get to see each other anymore," I remind him.

"Oh, thank God. I can't stand you."

I giggle loudly, causing the same flight attendant from earlier to give me the stink eye. I cover my mouth and duck down by Zach's shoulder, trying to muffle my laughter.

When I regain control of myself, I lean close to his ear. "I don't think she likes us very much."

He nods. "Oh, she hates us." He grins. "And it's totally all your fault."

I gap at him. "No way!" I push off his shoulder. "You're the one who dropped the f-bomb earlier."

"You're the one who started talking about hemorrhoids."

"Ugh, don't remind me." I dramatically cringe, making him laugh. "Worst mistake of my life."

"I don't know; it was pretty funny to see you try to explain it to Gray."

I roll my eyes. "It was not. That was actually awful."

"Awfully hilarious."

"No. Do me a favor? Never mention it again. Ever. In your life. Cool?"

Zach just smiles and shakes his head. "Can't do that. Not even sorry."

I groan. "Zach, please don't be a jerk for once."

He scoffs. "Because that's the way to win me over." 

"Best friend code. Come on." I plead.

He turns to me, smiling, but then his face drops. I frown. "Zach? You good?"

"Do me a favor and don't look out the window, okay?"

An uneasy feeling stirs in the pit of my stomach. "Why?" I ask slowly, already turning my neck to see what he's upset about.

"Nope." His long fingers capture my chin and turn me back to face him. The small movement is electrifying. "No looking out the window."

It clicks in my head. I take a deep, shaky breath. "We're over the water, aren't we?"

Zach doesn't answer. He doesn't have to. He just stares at me with unwavering, cautious dark eyes.

I take another deep breath, swallowing hard. "Okay." I say to myself. "Okay, okay, okay." I struggle to stay calm, focusing on the cream seat in front of me.

"Just take it easy, okay?" Zach coaches. "It's not a big deal. Nothing bad is going to happen. You knew that we were going to be flying over water-"

"Yeah, I was just hoping that I'd fall asleep at that point or something," I snap. "I didn't want to know about it."

"I'm sorry, okay? I didn't want you to look out the window and flip out." Zach doesn't sound very sorry. If anything, he's becoming frustrated. "Just calm down."

"What the hell do you think I'm trying to do?" I demand through gritted teeth. I double over, resting my forehead on my knees. I close my eyes and try to even out my breathing.

Zach sighs angrily. "Jonelle," he hisses. "People are looking-"

"Is everything all right?" An unfamiliar voice. Probably a flight attendant. "Ma'am, are you okay?"

"She's fine," Zach immediately covers for me. "She's just scared of water." He says the words with a certain underlying revulsion that makes me want to pop him in the jaw.

I know that Zach thinks it's stupid. Of all things to be scared about, water? But I have my reasons. Reasons that not even Zach knows about.

"I see," the flight attendant muses in a skeptical voice. "Does she need a bag?"

"I'm not going to throw up." I pant out. "I just need to pretend like I'm anywhere but here."

"How about some food? Those complimentary snacks?" Leave it to Zach to take advantage of a situation. "I think that would help her."

As soon as the flight attendant leaves, Zach leans down to mutter in my ear. "Sit up."

"I don't want to see-"

"Then just look at me, okay?"

Sighing, I slowly sit up. Zach's cheeks are slightly pink. His hair is neatly messy, something he always sports and I'm never quite sure how he does it. His lips are full and pink. I quickly make myself look away from them, overwhelmed with the longing to feel them against my own. His brown eyes watch me closely.

"You know we're going to an island, right? It's surrounded by water."

"Yes," I snarl. "But there's land."

"Land that's surrounded by water."

"Zach-"

"I know I'm not helping. You don't need to tell me."

"Then you don't need to remind me that-"

The flight attendant returns. He hands Zach some silver packets, gives me a look, and then returns to the back of the plane.

"Let's see what we have here," Zach says, totally ignoring the current situation at hand. "Would you like some shitty peanuts or shitty pretzels?"

"Neither," I say. "Not hungry." I cross my arms and stare at my jeans.

Zach huffs. "What, are you mad at me?"

"Well I'm not fucking happy!"

He rolls his eyes. "What do you want me to do? Want me to hold your hand?" He speaks with nasty sarcasm.

I consider the offer and am surprised at the answer that comes out of my mouth. "Actually? Yeah."

He blinks. "Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously." The anger is fading from my voice. "Zach, I'm scared."

He sighs, but he holds his hand out on the armrest. My tiny palm slides against his large one, his rough callouses pulling at my soft skin. My little fingers fill the slots of his big ones.

"See?" He gives my hand a slight squeeze. "Nothing to worry about." His voice has become considerably gentle. "Just don't think about it."