Only you | Derek Morgan

Turbulence and cheerios

L A Y L A ' S   P O V

"I need a fucking drink."

My eyes fall closed and I take a calming breath, hoping and praying this patch of turbulence we're going through ends soon. I'm not a nervous flyer in the slightest, unless the plane is shaking so violently it feels like we could plummet to our death any second now.

Thanks to the airlines random seating selection, I'm sandwiched between an older lady who reeks of cigarettes and booze and a teenage boy who's heavy metal music is playing so loud through his air pods that I'm sure I'll probably hear it in my sleep tonight. That's better than listening to the screaming baby a few rows up, so I guess I should be thankful for that.

My dad always says be optimistic, look for the positive in every situation. But he also thinks pineapple belongs on pizza so should I really even take his advice?

I feel a tap on my shoulder and my eyes open to see the elderly woman sitting in the window seat next to me. She says nothing, silently unzipping her purse to reveal it full of travel sized liquor bottles. Clearly having heard my panicked statement, she nods her head towards them, offering me one.

I'm about to shake my head, politely decline that drink I'm craving when the plane makes a sudden drop, the wings vigorously shaking in the wind. I'm reaching for one of the bottles before I even know it, hoping it will take the edge off.

If I'm going to die, I'd rather be tipsy.

Tilting my head back and swallowing the shot of Vodka straight, I wince as the alcohol burns a path down my throat.

The woman still doesn't say anything, nor does she wince, drinking three bottles of Jack Daniels in a row like they're water. She looks like she's been knocking them back since the 1950's so I don't know if I should be impressed or worried, but either way she looks like she's living her best life so I love that for her.

The baby is still screaming, the heavy metal music only seems to be getting louder and I'm getting drunk with a possible mute alcoholic.

If this flight is any indication of how my move to DC is going to pan out, I'm so screwed.

-

Grabbing my run of the mill large black suitcase from the baggage carousel, I make my way through the airport and into arrivals, ready to put the flight from hell behind me.

My cousin and her husband offered to pick me up from the airport and since they're the only people I know here at the minute, I gratefully accepted the offer. And they're family so they weren't taking no for an answer.

Besides Christmas last year, the first and only time I met her husband and son, we haven't really seen each other since we were teenagers. We went to different colleges and naturally, life got in the way.

She moved to DC right after I finished my training at the academy and moved out of Virginia and accepted a job in the counterterrorism devision in the Chicago field office which is where I've been the past few years.

Until I got an opportunity back here that I couldn't refuse.

Except our day together at Christmas last year in Chicago, our path's haven't crossed in a few years, but I just know when we talk it will be like no time has passed at all.