Down | Tyrus

XII

The moment the pilot steps out of his office, TJ and I come out of the adjacent hallway. Our plan is simple, probably too simple. We could've come up with something more elaborate, but time is of the essence, so we just went with the first thing we came up with. TJ goes in while I remain outside, and if the pilot comes back, I'm supposed to distract him with questions about some files I stole from my mom's office. 

I try not to look suspicious in the hallway as I stand there, but nobody's walking by anyway, so I don't have to try as hard as I am. It takes longer than I'm comfortable with for TJ to just place a magnet in the control room, and after four-ish minutes, I'm getting worried. I get especially tense when I notice the clouds out the window shift in the sky, but it's subtle enough that I doubt anyone else is realizing, and honestly it could just be my imagination amplifying it. Relief washes over me as TJ emerges out of the office and carefully closes the door behind him. 

"What took so long?" I whisper. 

"I had to find the key for the door," he answers. "Lucky I've seen where he puts it. But I did it. Now we just have to wait until we're over the spot, which should be in a couple hours."

I smile, letting out a breath, and he looks at me with matching triumph. And then a voice turns us around. 

"What are you two doing looking so happy?" Amber questions. 

It doesn't sound like she knows anything about what we just did, and TJ realizes that too, so he comes up with an excuse. 

"Nothing. I'm, uh, just going to show Cyrus the hall of portraits."

I nod in agreement, but Amber's skepticism continues to shine.

"Okay..." she responds. "You two have been spending a lot of time together, huh?"

TJ shrugs. "Not a lot."

"So you aren't, like, friends?" Amber presses. 

TJ glances down at me, and I can see his face reddening from being put on the spot. 

"Uh, well, I'm not sure if I would say friends," he answers. 

When he doesn't say more, Amber just gives her brother a slow nod, saying, "Right. Well, I've got other things to focus on than you guys, so—"

"Cool, see you," TJ cuts her off. 

She looks a little surprised by her brother's interruption, but she turns around anyway and carries on down the hallway. When she's gone, TJ releases a breath, and I look at him. 

"So what's this hall of portraits?" I ask. 

TJ grins and takes my hand to pull me along behind him. Meanwhile, I have to tell my heartbeat to shut up. This is totally platonic hand holding happening. Nothing about it is romantic. I should know that. I do know that, but my body gives the typical crush response, but this is, like, the worst person for me to have a crush on. It really has to be him, huh? It really has to be the pilot's son who would never in a million years like me back? Yeah, I guess that's my luck in a nutshell. 

He lets me go when we reach a door, which he pulls open for me to step through. Right away, I'm stunned by the massive paintings that decorate the walls. The room is narrow but long, like a tunnel, leading to another door, and paintings of various faces line both sides of the hall. I look up at the first one. It's a man with blonde hair going white, wearing a monocle over one eye and a jacket with too many buttons to count. The next one is a woman in a humongous gown, blonde again. They're all blonde, actually. 

"Who are these?" I ask. 

"These are my ancestors," TJ answers. "Some of these are from farther back than I can even process."