Summertime & Butterflies

One

"Are you all right?"

Olivia Hayes raised her head, her bleary eyes looking at the British man seated beside her. They hadn't spoken a word for the duration of the flight - save for the odd 'excuse me' or 'sorry' when one of them encroached into the other's space - but he looked concerned as she pressed her hand against the seatback in front of her and tried to tuck her head as close to her lap as possible.

"I'm okay," Olivia lied, squeezing her eyes shut again as the plane jolted, simulating a roller coaster drop. "I'm... I'm just not a good flyer," she added, her voice low as she silently willed the lunch tossing around in her stomach to stay put. She'd spent the extra money on a first class seat hoping seat 2A would somehow be in a turbulence-free zone. But so far, the only good thing about the seat was the bowl of warm nuts - warm nuts she may expel onto her lap somewhere over the California coast.

"You're doing fine," he assured her, though Olivia noticed he'd shifted his body closer to the aisle, away from her. He took the airsick bag from the pocket in front of him and stuck it in Olivia's pocket-the spot now vacated as she clutched her own bag with a death grip.

Olivia didn't acknowledge the gesture. The plane had taken another dip, and if she had looked up, she would have seen the dark, towering clouds forming over the ocean. Judging by the size of the massive swell the plane had no choice but to fly through, the rough descent into California would get worse before it got better.

As the plane turned and began to descent towards La La Land, the plane lurched as though on a slide, before being replaced by a climbing sensation. Against her better judgement, she squinted one eye open and peered at the TV screen on the seatback, documenting their descent. She thought the elevation would be somewhere around the one hundred feet mark, but when she saw the four digit number across the screen, her stomach jumped again. An eight thousand feet drop into the Pacific Ocean would hurt.

Olivia wasn't the only one having difficulties with the turbulence - frightened cries came from the rows of seats behind her. She ignored them, focussing on steady breathing and not getting sick instead. She placed the top of the airsick bag over her mouth and breathed into it, trying to bring her body back to a normal pH level. Olivia didn't know if it would help, but it gave her something to focus on.

"Oh, God," Olivia moaned out, unaware how loud her moans were. In her mind, she was inaudible. In reality, the entire first class cabin was privy to her profanity. "Oh, shit!" The plane took another dive through the clouds and Olivia ducked her head, spewing out more four letter words. Her mind was racing though the thoughts were incomprehensible to her. It was as though she was having an out-of-body experience - her actions and words weren't hers, they were just reactions to a situation. As though to prove this, as the plane tumbled through the dark clouds, Olivia clamped onto the strange man beside her. She linked her arms around his, not unaware but not caring either. It was at that moment when she believed the plane would crash and they would die.

He was a surprisingly good sport and didn't push her away - perhaps worried that any sudden movement would cause her stomach to erupt. He let Olivia keep a grip on his arm, her airsick bag tucked between her knees for easy access. She must have been a sight to see - and hear - but all she cared about was getting through the hellish trip.

"Oh, Jesus," she groaned, releasing his arm with one hand and grabbing her bag. She placed it over her mouth, breathing into it again. She noticed the saliva building against her cheeks and swallowed hard, trying to push the nausea away.

"It's okay," he told her, sitting up straighter and moving away from Olivia - as much as he could with her arm still curled around his. "Just... just open the bag more. It's not open. It's not -"