But I don’t want to seem too amazed. Yet, I can’t keep this stupid smile off my face either. We were raised with money, but we weren’t extravagant. When our parents died, that was the end of it. And in the back of my mind, I just decided to get over it. I let it go. I had just enough money to finish school, and that was going to be it, and I knew it.
But the guys have done so well in tech that they have a jet? They have a driver… They have a bunch of cars and that gorgeous house… Holy shit. This is crazy.
They know it, too—they are showing off. I can tell. They both have these shit-eating grins on their faces as they parade me around the tarmac, and we all climb up into the fucking jet.
Okay, I guess I am pretty impressed.
The stewardess or flight attendant or waitress or whatever she is called is super nice, and I wonder about the cabin, touching everything with my fingertips as I admire it. The leather is super thick on the bench and captain
s’ chairs. Even the lighting is posh. The whole thing is spotlessly clean, not grody and fingerprint-y like a public transportation jet, covered in the grime of thousands of toddlers who defiled the upholstery before you even got there.
No. This is absolutely swanky.
“Sit wherever you want, but you still have to buckle up for takeoff, okay?” Chance winks at me as he settles on the long bench, draping his arms along the back and crossing his ankle over his knee nonchalantly.
Jack approaches with a bottle of champagne and three champagne flutes. He pops the cork and it ricochets off the cream-colored paneling toward the back of the plane. The flutes fit into cupholders that seem especially made for them. I bet they totally were.
“To us!” Jack toasts, raising his glass high in the air. I take my flute, giggling as the bubbles settle back to the surface of the liquid, sipping carefully as the mist tickles my nose. It’s also unreal. I’m not sure if I should laugh or take notes. If it is a dream, I don’t want to forget anything when I wake up.
The door closes with a bang and I feel the jet start to move. My fingers fumble for the seatbelts on the captain’s chair and clasp it over my hips.
“You’re not afraid of flying, are you?” Jack asks me. “Oh wait… you totally are, aren’t you?”
I swallow. “No, I’m okay.”
“Wait… I remember now. You’re totally afraid of flying. Didn’t you throw up the entire way to Los Angeles?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, I remember!” Jack continues, cluelessly charging forward. “You locked herself in the bathroom as soon as we took off from Chicago, and you didn’t come out forever. They were going to break down the door! You almost got us banned for life!”
“I had Taco Bell,” I explain. “And besides, that was a really long time ago. Let’s just drop it.”
“Aw, you don’t have to be embarrassed,” Chance shakes his head supportively. “It’s not a big deal. Lots of people are afraid to fly. I assure you this jet is incredibly safe. Totally safe. The pilot just graduated last week.”
I catch my breath. “What? Last week?”
Jack nods seriously. “With honors!”
“Wait… are you serious? Not last week?”
My fingers dig into the arms of the chair and I feel myself getting sweaty. The jet picks up speed and all of a sudden, I feel like I need to be out of the seat. Maybe out of this airplane. Maybe this was a bad idea.
“Chance, wait,” Jack chuckles. “Look at her… I think she really is scared.”
“Really? Hey, Chelsea? We were just kidding. He’s been a pilot for like twenty-five years. Honestly.”
“Honestly? Which is it?” I croak out, my voice dry and cracking.
Breaking the rules, Jack unbuckles his seatbelt and crosses the aisle to kneel between my feet, taking both my hands in his and forcing me to look at him.
“It was a joke!” he says in a soft, comforting voice. “You’re totally safe. I promise. I swear. We were just joking… Bad joke. Sorry about that.”
“Lots of things can go wrong! Did you feel that? Did you hear a bang? Or something?”
“Shit, look what you did, Jack,” Chance sighs, pushing his brother aside.
He kneels between my knees, taking Jack’s place. His hands are warm and smooth, sliding up the back of my calves, massaging me in his strong grip.