"What?" I ask blankly. "Who's we?"
The plane is now at the speed at which my stomach usually starts performing those somersaults that precede violent rounds of vomiting. The front wheels unhitch from the runway and I sink deep in my seat, closing my eyes. And my mouth, just in case.
"It will be fun," James calls to me.
"You're mental if you think I'll jump," I say and quickly shut my mouth again. I dig my nails in the leather, waiting for the somersaults and cramps to start.
They don't. Who knew that being scared out of your wits is the remedy to airsickness?
When the seat belt sign rings I finally open my eyes, and find James watching me amused.
"You need hours of training and practice and special equipment," I say, citing every possible reason that could convince him this is the worst idea ever. My desperation seems to have the opposite effect, because he's grinning even wider than before. "And you need guts," I add in a low voice.
James leans in, lifting my chin with his palm. "You have them," he says in an equally low tone, "you just need to let loose."
"Why aren't we ascending anymore?" the lark laments.
"We're only jumping from 7,000 feet today," James clarifies.
Natalie groans. "I wouldn't have bothered coming if I knew."
"I'll let you know next time," James says in a glacial tone, not looking away from me.
"So what do you say?" he inquires, his tone warm and soft again.
"I have a choice?"
He stares at me intently, without one hint of a smile. "You always do."
And maybe because I can’t bear disappointing him, or because I don't want to give the lark the satisfaction of witnessing my cowardly side firsthand, or because I truly lost my mind, I answer, "I'll do it."
His face breaks into a smile. "You'll love it." He unbuckles his seatbelt and gets up. "Let's get the equipment, Parker."
The equipment, as I find out five minutes later, consists of a heavy Supplex jumpsuit that covers my entire body, a helmet, and goggles. And a parachute, of course, but I don't get one because you truly need a lot of training to be able to steer it properly. I will jump with James.
"How do you feel?" Parker asks, setting up my helmet. James is in the cockpit, talking to the pilot.
"Like an Eskimo," I answer. "Are you sure this isn't a skiing suit?"
He grins. "It gets quite warm, doesn't it?"
"Hot, actually."
"Don't worry about anything, okay? James's been doing this for years. We all have."
"I'm not worrying," I say.
I should be terrified, but I'm not even scared. Of course it could just be that I'm so paralyzed by fear I can't tell anymore. But it can't be. I wouldn't be feeling this lightness in my chest if I were paralyzed. I don't know what it is.
But it's not fear.
A piercing yelp at the back of the plane makes Parker and me jump.
"Damn it, Christie," Ralph bellows. He wipes his eyes, after Christie throws a glass of water in his face. "If you ever do that again—"
"If you'd actually wake up like any normal human being I wouldn't have to do it. Put on your suit, we're jumping in five minutes."
Ralph gets up grunting, and snatches his equipment from Christie's arms before she turns to join Angela and Natalie at the back of the plane, as they help each other. Predictably, Ralph's eyes enlarge to the size of oranges when he sees me and I open my mouth to introduce myself, but he turns away and starts putting on his jumpsuit without a word.