The plane starts to descend. Angus leans over me, anxious for his first look at America. Though I pretend to be annoyed, I feel the same energy. We’re here. We’re finally here. Angus, Jan, Sigge, and I have been saving for this our whole lives. It’s surreal actually, being on the plane, about to land in the U.S.A.
“Do you see that?” Angus yells, receiving a few irritated glances from other passengers. He jabs a finger against the window, pointing at who knows what.
“I’m sorry sir, but could you please sit back in your seat,” a flight attendant politely asks. You can tell by the tone of her voice that she’s more demanding than she is asking. Her brown hair is up in a neat messy style if that makes sense. Jan’s been giving her his “stare” in an attempt to seduce her. Sigge, who has the aisle seat on the other side of the plane, has ruined his brother’s every attempt.
I grip the armrests as tight as I can. My knuckles turn white with the effort.
“Felix? Are you all right?” Angus questions.
My stomach feels like it’s trying to be a contortionist, bending into shapes that organs never should. My heart is beating so fast that I can’t distinguish one beat from the next. My head pounds in rhythm with my frantic heart. “Fine,” I reply through clenched teeth.
Angus squints at me, obviously seeing through my lie. Before he can comment, the wheels touch ground. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
“Land sweet land, yeah Flix?” Jan teases.
I chuckle along. I’ve been scared of flying for as long as I can remember. I finally brought up the courage, told my fear to suck it, and boarded my first plane. It took a few to get here, and the fear stayed in the pit of my chest, but I made it.
Getting off is much easier than getting on. The only complaint I have is the crowds. People push and shove, rudely knocking others out of the way instead of politely asking them to move in order to get to where they want to go. While looking out for Angus’s cousin Lynn, whom I have never seen, one person beside me is roughly jostled to the side. I grab her shoulders and stand her up right.
“I am so sorry!” she apologizes quickly, her face changing to a light pink.
I smile. “It’s not your fault.”
She tilts her head to the side and stares intensely at me. I look back into her hazel eyes until I can no longer stand the silence.
“Are you all right?” I ask.
“Quite. Where are you from?” she replies, tacking on a question at the end.
“Sweden.”
“Sweden,” she repeats. I nod, just so I have something to do. She continues watching me. I shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other, the English I’ve been studying for years suddenly gone from my head.
“Hey Flix,” Jan says, rescuing me from my fate.
I grin. “Hey.”
“So, who’s your new friend?” He sticks his chin out, indicating to the gaping girl.
“Oh I, uh. I don’t know. What’s your name, miss?” I ask.
She laughs, tucking her black hair behind her ear. “Miss! You have never been to America, have you?” she snorts.
I blink a few times, looking to Jan for support, but he’s too busy scrutinizing the girl to be of much help.
“It’s my first time,” I answer.
“Well, in that case.” She opens her purse and digs around for a few seconds before pulling out an old receipt and a pen. She scribbles on it then holds it out to me. I cautiously accept it, looking to her for clarification. “I’m Kayla, and that’s my number. “ She taps on the paper then wraps her hand around mine. “Call me.” And with that she turns and leaves, sashaying her hips from side to side. I’m afraid she’s going to lose her balance and topple over in those heels. I drop my gaze to the piece of paper in my hand. The writing is loopy and neat. If I were one of those handwriting analysis people then I’d be able to tell a little more about this mysterious girl just based on this sheet. Unfortunately, I can’t do that. I shove the receipt into my pocket and turn back to Angus and Sigge.
“Figures, we haven’t even been on American soil for half an hour and you’ve already been given a number,” Jan complains, shaking his head. “How do you do it, Flix?”
I shrug. “I don’t do anything.”
I turn my attention back to the crowd just in time to see a head of brilliant red hair charging towards us.
“Angus!” Someone crashes into Ang, almost toppling him over.
Angus wraps his arms around her. “Lynn!” he shouts.
As they hug I notice their red hair is the same vibrant shade. Lynn pulls away, a beam on her freckled face.
“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you in person! What were we, like, ten? I can’t believe you’re actually living here!” she squeals.
They both have loud voices too, I think with a smirk.
Sigge elbows his older brother, hitting him in the shoulder. Jan likes to think he’s tougher than Sig, but it’s kind of difficult to face off against someone who is a few inches taller and more muscled than you.
“Don’t even think about it. That’s his cousin,” Sig harshly whispers in Swedish.
“Too late,” Jan mutters back in English. He takes a step forward, plastering a cheesy smile on his face. “It’s nice to finally meet you Lynn, I’m—”
Lynn cuts him off. “Let me guess, you’re Jan Kjellburg.” Jan’s eyes widen. Lynn snickers. “Let’s just say I was warned about you." With that she turns to Sigge. "And you must be his brother," she guesses.
Sig dips his head. "Sigge."
Lynn wrinkles her pale nose. "All right, I'll try it," she giggles before attempting to say his name. "Sig-hay," she tries and then looks to him for approval.
Sig bites his lip to keep from smiling. "Close. How about you just call me Sig?" he suggests.
"Sig like wig. Got it." Lynn swivels to face me. "And you are Felix," she states.
"Nice to meet you Lynn," I hold my hand out to her and she shakes it.
"Trust me, the pleasure is all mine. Now come on you lot, I haven’t all day to drive you around and these people are pissing me off.” She dangles the keys in front of us before spinning on her heels and leading the way to her van.
“A woman who takes charge,” Jan murmurs to himself. “I like that.”
“Heard that!” Angus rumbles threateningly. Unlike Jan, although he’s short, Ang can be intimidating.
The five of us make our way to the van, dodging rouge cars driven by people who clearly can’t obey their own road regulations. We pile in, Lynn in the driver’s seat, Angus riding shotgun, the brothers in the middle, and me solely in the back.
“Let the adventure begin,” I grin.
Lynn looks at me in the rear-view mirror, her green eyes crinkling in the corner as she smiles. “You know, I think I’m gonna like that one,” she jokes before hazardously pulling out of her parking space. I place my hand against the seat in front of me to brace myself. I quickly yank it back. My hand is white and feels like I just stuck it in ice. I rub the feeling back into it. Note to self: Don't touch American seats. I turn my head to glance out the window as the scenery rolls by.
Here I am. In America. Finally on the road to living my dream.
Lynn swerves around a car without signalling.
If I don’t get killed on this road first that is.