Ebony & Ivory [H.S]

Fifty-One

"Ladies first," she offers, stepping aside as she gets her laptop out of her bag, and into the provided trays. Placing my own bag into a tray, along with my phone, I walk through the scanners, and take a huge sigh of relief when I enter with no issues. I'm sure it's not just me that frets when going through airport security. Even though I know I'm not smuggling anything untoward, it's still a worrying thought to be pulled aside and searched.

"Excuse me miss," a security staff member mutters, ushering me aside. "We just can't allow this to go through as it's a liquid," he informs me as he holds my secret flask in his hands. "You can take this container," he offers, waving the flask around much to my embarrassment, "though we'll have to remove the contents."

"That's fine, keep it" I reply, probably blushing profusely, pretending I don't feel Celia's eyes on me, before scurrying my things together and making a beeline for the jet.

Close on my heels, Celia catches up to me, grabbing my hand for me to stop.

"Was everything okay back there?" she asks, looking ever so concerned for my welfare. This really is the last thing I need right now.

"Celia, I'm fine," I insist, not making an effort to hide my not-so-subtle eye roll. "I just brought it along as a pick-me-up. I don't see why it's this much of an issue, honestly," I add, instantly regretting how defensive I sound.

"If you insist," she smiles in an understanding way as she squeezes my arm in an attempt to be comforting. "But please let me know if you're not. Because it's okay to not be fine. I understand what you're going through."

"Thanks," I answer quite hastily, keen to just get on the plane and go. I don't need to feel pitied, or feel that I need to be babysat while on holiday. I'm doing the best that I can, but why does it seem as though it's not quite good enough for anyone?

One step at a time, I get closer and closer to the plane and pause when I reach the door, the sound of the engines dimming as I lose sense of where I am.

"Don't forget to touch the outside for luck." I remember him telling me as my fingers linger on the outside of the door. For a brief second, I'm there again with him in that moment, and feel the weight off my shoulders ebbing away.

"Ivy, you're holding everyone up. Come on," Celia encourages me, lamentably bringing me back to the present.

"Sorry," I stammer, continuing on.

"You looked like you were in your own world," she comments, offering me a reassuring smile. "I know I pretty much forced you to come today, but are you sure you're up for it?"

Firmly nodding, I take a seat by the window and get settled in while the rest of the girls follow suit. They all chatter mindlessly about their plans for the holiday, and the prospect of meeting hot men by the pool as they sip their cocktails adorned with tropical fruit and mini umbrellas. I can think of a time where the prospect of doing so would have been compelling to me. I want so badly to pretend that all of these things interest me, and despite feeling myself being a gloomy cloud over the excitement bubble, I can't seem to shake the mood that I'm in.