39 | the emerald city

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"Mahalo for choosing Hawaiian Airlines!"

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"Mahalo for choosing Hawaiian Airlines!"

Emmie knows better than to ask me anything while we're at the airport, and her courtesy of distracting me extends to when we're on the plane. A headache pulses at the back of my neck and the bright lights above turn stark white, but as they slowly dim in preparation for take-off, the pain subsides.

I glance outside the tiny window and watch the workers drive by in their carts. Emmie leans her head against my shoulder, her hand gripped tight against my forearm to anchor me in place.

"I should have gotten the M&Ms," she mumbles into my shirt.

I peek down at the top of her head. "Always get M&Ms."

"Pablo said he'll be there as soon as we land," she tells me while snuggling in closer. It's half to give me some sense of comfort, half because she's tired after a day of keeping busy.

My fingers pick at the loose threads on her sweater. It's the same one she always wears when she flies because she says it gives her good luck. It's also the sweater I gave her for her birthday present one year. Somehow, it's still hanging on even though it must be almost a decade old at this point. I wonder if she wore it when she left for Seattle that first time.

"This isn't how I expected to meet him but I guess I'll take it," I grumble.

Since we're given the green light, the plane rolls back so we can make our way onto the runway. With her hand still clutched around mine, she closes her eyes as we pick up speed and lift off.

"I always forget you're afraid of flying."

She doesn't respond until the plane levels out and the world is right on its axis again.

"I know you're more likely to die in a car accident than from a plane crash or whatever, but it's still terrifying."

I flinch at her choice of words, which she pics up on.

Immediately processing my reaction, Emmie tightens her arms around mine. "It's been three years," she says as if she's the one that needs to comfort me. "I can say car accident and not breakdown."

Even though it's been a long time since the accident, a layer of guilt still lingers on my soul. The car accident may not have had anything to do with me, but I contributed to one of the worst days of her life, and I'm not sure the feeling will ever go away.

I don't express those thoughts to her because it's the last thing we need to worry about when we have a five-hour flight ahead of us. Tears and altitude do not make for a good combination.

Instead, I let the conversation drift off as easily as she gives way to whatever dream she's about to get lost in. When the flight attendant comes around for drinks, I decline for both of us and snuggle in closer as I let sleep take me over as well.

When I awaken, the cabin lights brightened again, illuminating the rest of the aircraft. Emmie is already awake, combing through one of the in-flight magazines.

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