Until the Next Flight... (unedited)

Chapter Three: Leap of Faith

8:12 am

We were back in the rented car, wind in our hair about to go jump out of a plane. I tried not to think about our destination too much. As a diversion for my spiraling mind, I asked Aaron what he wanted to do. The first word out of his mouth was: Jetski. He told me he'd always wanted to try but his family practically never went on beach vacations. The one time, he had the opportunity his older brothers convinced him it was stupid and a showoff move. Then he confessed being afraid to play in front of strangers.

"But what are you gonna do if you're selected for The Voice?" I was completely confused. He laughed a nervous laugh. Then  looked at me, somewhat embarrassed. I could see in his eyes that he was asking himself the same question.

"Well, I guess you're gonna have to face your fear today!" I said adding "concert" on the list.

He gave me a knowing smile but I knew he was just as nervous about it as I was about jumping out of a plane. I had added dance in public for me, as I had always felt self conscious about it. I didn't enjoy being the center of attention or even a potential attraction to people. That's why I felt safest behind my cameras. Nobody really cared about who was holding the camera as long as what they pictured was pretty. He didn't have any more ideas for himself and said he kept thinking about it. I suspected he had something in mind but was not ready to share it yet. My last challenge for the day was an attraction park. I hated roller coasters and Aaron seemed really excited to see me freak out on one.

On the road we shared more about each other. He told me he had a big and very tight family. Three brothers and one sister. William, Isaac, was his elder by six and four years respectively. His sister, Ryan was only eleven months older than he was and admitted he wasn't planned. So much so that his father had gone to get a vasectomy, which clearly failed as his brother Kai was born nearly ten years later and was only seventeen. His parents owned a bar restaurant where they all worked, parents and children. Or at least all children had worked there at some point in time. They still went on vacation together even though his older brothers had kids of their own. The concept was foreign to me but I admitted feeling a little envious. I had always dreamt of having a full and united family, where everyone ate together, supported each other, simply loved and cared for each other. I could not hold back a smile listening to Aaron recounted the chaos of their last Christmas.

My own home life had never been that entertaining. Most of my life we'd been a maximum of 3 at home. Even though my sister's use of the house was closer to a hotel or dormitory. I'd been living on my own since I'd left for college. And tomorrow for Sienna's wedding would be the first time I'd see both my mother and sister together in over a year. Aaron was astonished by this revelation. "I don't think I can spend more than a week without seeing my family. I see each of them, pretty much everyday," he said, almost unable to compute what I was saying.

"Don't you ever miss them?" he asked genuinely curious. Whatever I'd say, he wouldn't be able to relate. It was completely alien to him. Being as close as he was with his family meant he could not conceive of a world where a family would be anything but good and supportive, I thought to myself. In reality, family was often what would destroy your dreams and confidence. Sometimes even your happiness and desire to grow or change. "I don't miss them often. Most times they tear me down instead of pulling me up. I do enough of that on my own, I don't need their help," I said more curtly than I intended. I thought he'd judge me, think me cruel and mean but instead he stared at me, eyes full of compassion and understanding. For the second time today, he put a comforting hand on my knee.

"I'm sorry. You deserve nothing less than unconditional love and support." He squeezed my knee as he spoke. His words would sound cliché or superficial, but strangely I felt more understood than I'd ever been in my life. More than by my own family. The feeling that we'd known each other for a long time, wouldn't go away. It was too easy to speak and be understood by each other. I suspected he could read me as clearly as I could read his own face.