TAKE ME OVER | HENRY MILLS [1]

II. boston

Chapter Status: Edited. 

I slept through most of the flight; after endless nights of anxiety had me tossing and turning, the weirdly relaxing sensation of flight had me snoring lightly as I leaned against the closed blind beside me. A hand lightly shook my shoulder and I blinked hard and sat up quickly, the blind was open and the seatbelt light above me was now on, we must be landing soon. I turn to June and rub my eyes, ignoring the extreme need to pee.

"The plane's going to land in five minutes," June says softly.

"What a nice sleep," I mumble in response.

"I tried to sleep but someone kept pushing me away from him," she turns her head to look at Caleb.

Caleb was leaning back in his seat, AirPods plucked into his ear, as he watches a video he had downloaded the night before. His hazelnut hair, which was in desperate need of a hair cut, swoops across his forehead and stops just before his blue eyes. He keeps his eyes away from us, and I look at him with a frown.

"I hope he settles in quickly, I hate to see him like this," my eyes flicker to June who sits with her arms folded, furiously facing the back of the seat in front of her. 

"I hate to see him at all," she replies.

I decide to drop the conversation and lean back, the sound of the captain speaking over the intercom becoming nothing more than a blur. June wordlessly passes me two sticks of chewing gum to chew on whilst the plane descends to avoid an earache and I take them with silent gratitude. 

The plan jolts suddenly and my eyes widen slightly with panic, hands gripping my armrests fiercely. No one else reacts to the quick movement, a regular bump in the flight I suppose, and my shoulders relax as I let out a quiet sigh. Without looking at me, June squeezes my hand in reassurance, and I silently pray that she comes with me on all future flights. 

After no more than 20 minutes, my father jumps to his feet and throws us all our carry on bags that were prompted in the overhead compartments. He stands next to the seat in front of us to prevent others from getting ahead and jostles us out of our seats in single file and exit from the back end of the plane. We walk together closely, even Caleb stood closely behind us to avoid getting separated in the vastly crowded Boston airport. 

Although it was clear he had no idea what he was doing, dad walks with determination, following every sign that directs us out of the international terminal and towards the baggage belts that would carry out our luggage. Apparently, we were on a tight schedule due to our delayed landing, and so we watch with amusement as dad runs around and finds all of our suitcases for us. 

Most of ours were easy to spot, mine is a bright green, my favourite colour; dad's and mum's are oversized, blue and red respectively; June's is pink with a dancer embroidered on the front. Caleb's, however, is plain black and the same size as all of the businessmen's surrounding us. Dad checks all of the tags as they travel past until Caleb's name, scribbled on lazily seconds before we checked in, flashed and dad drags it off of the belt. 

 Dad returns with a smile on his face as he hands the handle to Caleb who takes it without a look and turns on his heels, walking towards the taxi bays outside the exit. June and I exchange a worried glance as dad's face drops and mum squeezes his arm supportively.

"He'll be alright, honey," she says quietly, "he'll come around."

 We follow after him and for the first time, we notice how dark it is outside. The bright lights surrounding the airport covered most of the stars that flickered above us, and the air smelt of smoke and fuel. I cough in disgust; Sydney is polluted, but nothing like this.