seat no. 26 a ~discontinued~

3. the tao of physics

i'm sorry but i can't think of a good quote-thing, so jumping straight into the chapter here.

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my seat number was 26 a.

is it weird that at eighteen years of age i still get excited by a window seat?

window seats on international flights are the best, though. so i quickly shuffled inside, dumping my green jansport by my feet, keeping my notebook with me and my ipod in hand. i hoped i’d get a nice neighbour. i remember the first time i flew alone, when i was eight years old, i got this really nice man next to me who was so much like dad, he talked to me the whole time, said I was just like his own daughter.

nobody came, for about five minutes, so i put in my ipod and took to looking out of the window. i saw the carriers zooming around, the people waving the little yellow boards and the trucks carrying gross airplane food that we’ll all have to eat for dinner later tonight. i heard someone sit down in the seat next to mine but i didn’t turn around because the view outside was fascinating.

when the plane was about to take off, i turned back to face the inside and put on my seatbelt. there was a quiet man in the seat next to me, maybe in his late forties, wearing a boring grey sweater vest and wire-rim glasses.

oh well. so much for interesting neighbours.

the first half an hour of the twenty hour flight was uneventful. i read a little, but realized i didn’t really feel like. the man next to me was reading the tao of physics, fritjof capra. it was one of my favourite books. i didn’t tell him that though. these days people don’t always appreciate random acts of friendliness. i was at the mall just the other day, waiting outside the playzone for evie’s cousin terry to finish playing when this kid ran up to the gate to go out. but the lady there stopped him, said that his parents needed to be there, but he kept saying thirsty, i’m thirsty, but they still didn’t let him out. i knew I had a bottle of kinley in my vero moda shopping bag so i fished it out and gave it to him, but he’d barely taken a sip when a woman appeared out of nowhere, shrieking things like don’t take water from strangers, baby! and in my head i was going do i look like kidnapper, lady? i don’t want to poison your kid.

anyway. i guess i see where she was coming from though.

i memorized the toll free number printed on the back of the seat in front of me, and then i rested my head against mine and closed my eyes, with led zeppelin playing in my ears. i was quite uncomfortable – economy has never been my thing, when mum and dad were alive we’d always flown business but now i can’t afford it, so here i am.

i heard the man next to me mumble something to someone, i couldn’t make out what because then robert plant started singing over his voice. then my seat shook a little, and someone new plopped into the seat next to me. i caught a whiff of their fragrance – it was a musky sort of scent. it was a guy. i wondered why he’d swapped places with the man who was reading my favourite book.

I cracked one eye open. i couldn’t see the guy’s face, only now he was holding the tao of physics in his hands. he had nice hands, with long thin fingers, and short stubby fingernails. i couldn’t help it, my eyes traveled along his hands. his arms were nice too, with little curls of arm hair, not too thick though, and i liked that. his sleeves were rolled at the elbows messily, he was wearing a light blue shirt. i kept going, because this guy a). smelled nice b). was reading my favourite book and c). had nice arm hair.

i reached his face finally.

he was cute.

more than cute, maybe.

 (so much for interesting neighbours)

he was wearing glasses. nice, proper black ones, solid, not frameless, completely honest. behind them were a pair of brown eyes, framed by thick lashes that are wasted on guys, and he had thick curly hair that fell over his ears.

(evie would have dismissed him, he’s a geek, she’d have said, but i have a soft spot for nerds)

he had nice ears too. especially the lobes.

they made me blush. but before i could look away he looked at me, straight in the eyes like he’d known i was looking at him.

and i couldn’t look away, so i just stared, because his eyes

you like this book, don’t you?

he was talking to me. me. and you know what the best fucking part was? he was british. bloody british with the posh accent and everything, and after a while i had to remind myself to answer him.

how do you know?

a chuckle. deep, throaty, chocolaty, appealing, the kind you’d like to hear on rainy days.

you were staring at it when my dad was reading it, and you’re staring at it now too.

perceptive.

oh.

silence, while i bit my lip nervously because i don’t know how to talk to cute guys, especially cute nerdy ones. and he swallowed, his eyes flickering between me and the book.

then he spoke again.