Alex hoped that the convention in Paris wasn't a mistake. He saw the anxiety in Debbie's eyes and knew she was thinking the same thing. Tom waved them off as Alex pulled out of the driveway and drove them into Baltimore.
"This is going to be fun!" Alex said, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. A nagging feeling gnawed at his gut.
"I sure hope so," said Debbie, although Alex could hardly hear her. She turned to him and said, "We have separate rooms, right?"
Alex was taken aback by the question. "Of course we do."
"And we're in different aisles on the plane?" she asked.
"Debbie," he said dejectedly. "We're going to be fine. We are in different aisles, and rows, on the plane. I also made sure that we will be on different floors in the hotel. We won't be trapped and forced to spend any unnecessary time together. This trip is strictly business."
"Strictly business," Debbie agreed.
Alex took a right turn onto the highway but was met with a wall of traffic. The air was filled with the honking of horns and revving of engines. Angrily, he honked his horn. Debbie jumped at the loud, shrill sound.
"Alex!" she protested.
"What?" he snapped. "I didn't expect there to be any traffic at this time of day."
Debbie fell back in her seat and groaned. "That doesn't mean you can honk so loud you deafen your passenger!"
"I'm sorry," he said. A spot opened up on the highway and he barely nudged the car in.
He quickly checked the time on his watch. They still had a few hours to make it to the airport. He looked up at the highway, at the endless lines of cars that stretched out beyond the horizon. His heart sank, and the nagging feeling in his stomach grew more intense.
"This is going to be one hell of a tough drive," he said, more to himself than to Debbie.
She was leaning over the dashboard, stretching the boundaries of her seatbelt. Her forehead was creased with worry. She turned to him.
"Should we have left earlier?" she asked. "Or booked a later flight?"
Alex shook his head and gritted his teeth. "We'll make it."
They were driving much slower than the speed limit, due to the excessive number of cars on the highway. That was not unusual, but for the time of day it was genuinely concerning. Alex turned on the radio, and they found out that there had been a pile-up somewhere in east Baltimore, and all traffic was being diverted to this highway.
"We're not going to make it!" Debbie said. There was panic in her voice.
"Calm down, Debbie," Alex said, pressing a little harder on the gas as traffic started to get smoother. "We're going to be fine."
They were not fine. In fact, they arrived at the airport forty-five minutes before their flight was due to take off. They made it through security and baggage by the skin of their teeth. By the time they got to the gate, the flight attendant was about to close it off.
"We're here!" Alex shouted, breathless. He dropped his bags. After running through the airport with them, his entire body was screaming. Debbie came up behind him, huffing and puffing with sweat dripping down her face. She also dropped her bags. They landed loudly on the ground, and she took massive heaving breaths.
Alex handed over their tickets and passports, then checked them against the system. She took an agonizingly long time to do everything.
"You two arrived just in time!" she said. "Everything here looks good!"
Alex turned to Debbie. "See, I told you we'd be fine!"
He turned to the light attendant, preparing to retrieve their tickets and passports. She looked up at him with an apologetic expression.
"Unfortunately," she said, "there's been a problem with your booking."
Alex's heart sank. "What do you mean?"
"The flight is correct," she said, looking at her screen. "But we overbooked first-class."
"What does that mean?" Debbie asked, confused.
The flight attendant looked at her. "It means we've had to downgrade you to economy class. You'll be reimbursed for the difference, but there's limited leg room."
Alex pinched the bridge of his nose and let out an exasperated sigh.
"It's okay," Debbie told him. She turned to the flight attendant and asked, "Are we still in separate aisles?"
The flight attendant checked her screen, then produced a second pair of tickets.
"You're together," she said. She looked at Alex, then back at Debbie. "Does he snore? Is that why you wanted separated aisles? I can call the attendants and tell them to reserve a pair of noise canceling headphones for you."
Alex looked at Debbie. She looked crestfallen as she said, "No, that's okay. Thank you."
They were let on the flight without too much fuss. Although Alex was happy that they had made it, despite the horrendous traffic and slow-moving TSA agents, the limited leg room was difficult to forgive. He had been looking forward to a nice, restful sleep on the flight. Paris was a long way away, and he wanted to be rested by the time they got to the hotel.
Sitting next to Debbie was not the way he had anticipated this flight going. Their intention had been to sit apart from one another so they could have space and wouldn't be forced to talk. Sitting in such close quarters, on a crowded flight, in tiny seats, made for a ticking time bomb of awkwardness. It was bad enough that the convention was in Paris, the city of love, of all places.
As the flight took off, a pretty flight attendant with blonde hair and brown eyes came around with a tray laden with snacks and drinks.
"Can I just get a glass of wine, please?" Debbie asked.
"Do you have any beer?" Alex asked. He had a feeling he was going to need it.
The flight attendant smiled apologetically. "We're out of wine and beer," she said apologetically. "We do, however, have nonalcoholic beer, and some juice."
"I think I'll pass," Debbie said. "Sorry, it's been a hellish trip. I was hoping to have some wine just to relax."
"I understand," said the flight attendant. She looked between Debbie and Alex. "There's a cute little bistro near the Moulin Rouge. They have an amazing selection of wines and beers. Very romantic atmosphere."
Debbie's eyes went wide, and her cheeks went pale at the implication.
"Thank you," Debbie said in a tight voice.
The flight attendant moved further along the aisle, stopping for anyone who requested it.
"This is going to be fine," Alex said.
"I hope you're right," Debbie said, leaning back and closing her eyes. "Do you think this was a mistake?"
Alex shook his head and looked out of the window. Beneath them, clouds flew by. It felt like he could see the entire United States from this high. It was beautiful.
"I hope not," he said. "I really want this 'friends' thing to work out between us."
Debbie turned to him and opened her eyes.
"I want that too," she said. She closed her eyes again and took a deep breath. She fell asleep a few moments later, and Alex tried to follow her example.
And that was only the beginning of the plane ride from hell.
About ten minutes into takeoff, the plane was struck with a serious amount of turbulence. Alex had been on a plane before, several times as a matter of fact, so he knew how to brace himself for turbulence. Unfortunately, Debbie had only ever been on a plane once in her life. She had been very young, and couldn't remember it other than for a weird feeling in her ears, and that it hadn't been an international flight. She had been flying from Baltimore to Florida to visit some relatives.
The turbulence did not agree with Debbie in the slightest. Somewhere in the back, a baby started crying its head off. The sound grated on Debbie's ears and made her discomfort all the worse. She fidgeted in her seat, trying to distract herself from feeling like she was being shaken up inside a snow globe.
The plan is going to fall out of the sky, she thought, panicking. This is terrifying. And people do this for fun? They get on plans and just… fly… to places? What's the matter with taking a boat? At least with a boat it doesn't feel like someone's shaking you where you're sitting. Wait a minute. Alex has done this multiple times. Is that why he's so calm?
There was a sickly feeling brewing in her stomach, and something rose to the base of her throat. She was scared that she was going to vomit. She looked up at the seatbelt sign. She couldn't get up and go to the bathroom to vomit. Casting her eyes around, she saw a single sick bag poking out of the pocket on the seat in front of her. She had a brief pause of relief, and the sick feeling rescinded a little.
It came back soon after and she grabbed the sick bag, holding it at the ready.
"Alex," she asked in a strained voice. "Alex!" she said more urgently.
Alex looked at her. "What's the matter?" he asked. He was gripping the armrests so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.
"Is this normal?" she asked. "The plane shaking like this?"
"Oh yeah," Alex said casually. "It's completely normal. It's called turbulence. Don't worry too much about it. It's just a change in atmospheric pressure."
Debbie blinked. "Just a change in atmospheric pressure?" she asked, bewildered. "How are you so calm?"
Alex shrugged his shoulders. "I've done this before," he said. "I'm practically immune at this point."
Debbie gaped at him. "Well, good for you," she snapped. "It's not like I was asking for help or anything."
Alex gave her a surprised look. "Debbie," he said. "Are you okay?" The way he was asking made her feel safe and comforted, and she wasn't sure if she liked that.
Debbie shook her head, but that made her nausea worse. Before she could respond, the sickly feeling returned with a vengeance, and the sick bag was quickly used. As fate would have it, the moment she was done with the sick bag, the turbulence stopped, and she pulled her head away from the paper bag.
A flight attendant took it, offering a small complimentary bottle of water and some antacids. Debbie thanked the flight attendant and leaned back in her seat. This was going to be a long flight.