Yes, even with the loud buzzing it was so peaceful.
“All right, Jiya. We’ve reached our cruising altitude,” came Rick’s voice in her headset, after they’d been flying for ten minutes, him talking her through his every action. “I’m going to switch control to you now.”
“I’m ready.”
Another layer of vibration beneath her fingertips was Jiya’s only confirmation that she was now piloting an aircraft. Sure, she was merely holding the wheel but the control was in her hands. The euphoria that wound through her bloodstream wasn’t subtle. It was rich and beautiful and it stole her breath. This was where she belonged. It became obvious in a heartbeat. She belonged in the clouds with the world down below. She’d stepped into a cool, crisp lake, the water surrounding her. Welcoming her.
Since her pre-teens, she’d looked up at the sky and felt an affinity with planes. But now she knew that admiration had been for the pilots. To take control of a metal bird and direct it where to go. To assess the risk and make the choice to take it. That was power.
That was bravery.
She’d never really doubted her own bravery, but the moment she gained control of the aircraft, that courage multiplied and became an obvious part of her. One she wanted to nurture.
Jiya felt Rick watching her out of the corner of her eye.
“What’s the verdict?” came his voice crackling over the headset.
She expelled a breath. “Do we have enough fuel to stay up here forever?”
His chuckle made her smile. “That’s what I thought.”
Jiya went through the seven stages of grief when Rick took back control a few minutes later. They executed what he called a bank angle turn and headed back toward the airfield, Jiya hanging on every word of Rick talking her through the landing. Even though she was no longer steering the plane, she followed his movements on the co-pilot instruments while exhilaration continued to flap inside her like angel wings.
Her legs were shaking as she climbed out of the plane and said goodbye to Rick, assuring him she’d be on time for next week’s lesson.
Then she walked out of the hangar and burst into tears.
Not wanting Rick to see or hear her gulping sobs, she took out her ponytail so her hair would curtain her face and she speed walked to the office. Where Andrew was waiting. She didn’t think about how their relationship was on unstable ground. Or how it could shift more dramatically in the near future. She just needed him. And as if he’d been waiting at the window for her to return, Andrew stepped out of the office and met her halfway, his smile dropping the closer he came to reaching her, replacing itself with alarm.
“What happened, sweetheart?” He held out his arms and she didn’t hesitate to walk straight into him, smooshing her tear-covered face to his hard chest. She was too choked with emotion to speak and it didn’t help matters when his arms closed around her like a safety net. “If you tell me the instructor gave you shit for being late, I’m going to go—”
“No. Nothing like that. He was wonderful. Like Santa’s brother or something.” She mumbled into his pecs, before leaning back and looking up into his concerned face. “I flew the plane, Andrew. I flew.”
The lines slowly cleared from his forehead. “These are happy tears?”
“Yes.”
Briefly, his head fell back and he heaved a relieved exhale up at the sky, before brushing a thumb beneath her leaking eye. Then he pulled her back into his embrace and rocked them right to left, right to left. “How did it feel?”
“Like it’s what I’m supposed to do. Is that crazy?”
“No.”
“Yes it is, Andrew. I’m a twenty-nine-year-old waitress. I can’t just up and become a pilot.”
“Says who?” he scoffed. “You can do anything.”
Jiya pulled away a touch, but kept her arms locked around his neck. “I’d need to like, really commit to this,” she whispered. “And there’s so much happening right now…so many changes…”
Their gazes touched briefly, miserably.
A few beats of silence ticked by, before Andrew lifted her chin up with a finger. “Hey, you’re still paid up for four more lessons. You don’t have to figure out the next step today, all right? But I’m not going to let you talk yourself out of continuing.”
“It’s going to be too expensive—”
“Hey. Jesus Christ. You just flew a plane, badass.” He gave her a lopsided smile that made her stomach flip flop. “Let yourself enjoy it for one day, would you?”
Slowly, the smile came back to her face and Andrew took his turn growing serious. His Adam’s apple bobbed while he gazed down at her, using his fingers to loosen hairs that had gotten stuck to her cheeks using tears as glue. In a move he’d only done one other time—once when she’d gotten sick with the flu—Andrew trailed his fingers down her arm and retrieved the scrunchie from around her wrist. Eyes locked on her, he gathered her hair in careful hands and secured it in its customary ponytail.