I crawled over Sarah, over the bomb. I moved as quietly as possible. And avoided eye contact with Sarah.
Then I spoke with the flight attendant. She was much calmer than me. Although maybe she was trained for these sorts of situations. The woman went to talk with the pilots on a phone at the front of the plane. I stayed in the aisle. The people sitting around me didn’t know the plane was being hijacked. I wished I didn’t know either.
When the stewardess returned, her robotic smile had broken. “What’s your name?” She asked gently.
“Riley.”
She placed her hand softly on my shoulder, like my mum would do before apologizing.
“I really hate to ask a boy your age to do this, but would you please return to your seat and keep an eye on the… uh… hijacker?”
“You can call him Sarah.” I said, immediately regretting it. Sure. Let’s name the criminal after our ex-girlfriend! I’m sure that won’t have any consequences!
“Alright, can you return to Sarah? I wanted to do it instead, but the cockcrew requested for it to be who Sarah spoke to first. You can say no if you-”
“I’ll do it.”
My own words surprised me. And before I knew it I was returning to Sarah. Because despite how desperately I wanted to be far away from him, there was a part of me that also wanted to be close.
Half an hour passed. The plane would soon start descending.
And as far as I knew, I would be leaving with the rest of the passengers.
I locked the bathroom door behind me. And let out a long, tense breath. The small room smelt strongly of black coffee and cheap fragrance. Everything was white and plastic except for the mirror. I leaned into the sink and splashed cold water over my face. Under the yellow light my hair didn’t look so dark. The ends that I’d recently bleached went a soft brown. Brown like that boy's eyes. His eyes were unexpectedly dark and isolated. And emotional.
I watched the water drain into the sink. Where did the water go after that? Was it released from the bottom of the plane like rain? I glanced at the toilet. Nope. There was no way I was going to go down that rabbithole.
Sarah was shivering. I couldn’t help but wonder how someone so young could do something like that. I don’t exactly remember what it was that made me think that way. Maybe it was because of Sarah’s innocent expressions. Or the way his eyes betrayed everything he said. When he revealed the bomb he was smiling through teeth, but his eyes were so lonely I thought he might…
But he was right. The reason wouldn’t make a difference. Whether he was being forced or brainwashed, what he was doing was still wrong. I clenched my fists. What right did he have to be crying right now?
And yet, when he cried every bone in my body wanted to hug him. To stop him from shaking. To wipe that tortured expression of his face.
But I was too angry.
And he didn’t deserve pity.
The pilot’s deep voice rumbled throughout the plane. “Ladies and gentlemen, we will now begin our descent. Make sure your carry-on luggage is stowed properly underneath your seat or in the overhead compartment. Tray Tables should be folded up and seatbelt fastened. I hope everybody had an enjoyable flight.”
He made it sound like everything was normal.
I was so relieved to finally be able to leave. I held my nose and blew air out my ears to stop them from ringing. Sarah rolled back into his seat, hugging his legs tight. “Riley, you said you didn’t want to go to Fukuoka anymore, correct?” He sighed.
He was right. I didn’t want to bother my ex-girlfriend. But I also desperately wanted to get off that plane. Away from him.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Fukuoka Airport. The time is ten past seven and the temperature is twenty degrees. Thank you for flying with Skymark Airlines.”
The seatbelt light flicked off.
The first thing I noticed was that as everyone else shuffled out of their seats and grabbed their luggage, Sarah didn’t move. This wasn’t so surprising though, since Sarah would stay on the plane. Next, I realised he had no intention of standing to let me out. The plane doors were opened and the foot traffic started moving down the aisles. I stood in my seat, hands shakily clenched. If I had to climb over him, I would do it carefully. His face scrunched up and he gritted his teeth. I watched him hold his briefcase tighter, almost hugging it. If I waited until most other passengers were gone, I could avoid touching Sarah altogether. I could jump the seat in front of me and sprint across to the back exit. On the other hand, something about being alone on the plane with someone this unpredictable scared me.
The passengers left one by one. The woman with her toddler, the child that was behind me and a group of university students. I was running out of time to make a decision.
Sarah snatched my hand. He pulled each finger out until it was no longer a fist. I couldn’t see his eyes. Couldn’t see his expression. “Hey. Let go.” I snapped, tugging away. But his grip was secure, even through the gloves.
It was down to the last ten passengers. “Why are you making me stay?! Let me leave with the others!”
I couldn’t stop myself from falling apart. “Let me go!”
I collapsed into the seat in front of me, my tears falling from my nose helplessly. Sarah loosens his grip, but I’d already lost any strength to pull away. My breath came out in short puffs and the seat changed colour as it became soaked. My throat hardened and crushed my chest. I’d never felt that frustrated before. I pushed Sarah back into his seat. He didn’t let go of my hand, or react. “You phyco! I have a family!” I shrieked.
He flinched. “Sit down.”
I froze. And he pulled me back into my chair. The plane doors had closed. A duffle bag sat at the front of the plane, along with a man wearing a white pilot shirt. Sarah stood up and walked to the front of the plane towards the man, leaving me alone with nowhere to go. Except up with the plane.
When he came back his expression was tired. He sat down and leaned over me to slide open the window. “You’re not a hostage.” He mumbled.
In what way was I not a hostage? I wanted to be at home. With my mum. I wanted to hug her and tell her I didn’t mean to ignore her. I wanted to hear my dad say he loves me, even after everything.
And…
I wanted to talk to the guy who was with me before he turned into a hijacker. The nervously polite one, too weak to lift a suitcase.
Sarah kept leaning over me to stare out the window.
“Why are you doing this?” I sighed.
“I told you. It doesn’t make a difference-”
“Of course it does! Don’t you care that you could’ve killed all those people? Don’t you think you owe me an explanation?”
I pushed the window shut and he slipped onto my lap. He mumbled something under his breath, and then awkwardly scrambled back into his seat.
“What?”
“I said my name’s Lance. You asked me at the beginning of the flight.”
“Yeah but…”
Was that his real name? “Doesn’t telling me that put you in danger?”
He smiled a little and looked away. “Why do you care? I should be the least of your concerns.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You have a rather interesting decision to make, Riley.” He stands up. “I’m sure that you’ve realised by now that I plan to jump out of this plane. I mean, you might be a high school drop out but surely you’re not an idiot.”
Was he making fun of me?
“This plane is similar to the ones used in the Vietnam war, so it has a unique design. It has a stairway near the tail of the plane. I will open this stairway and jump out of the plane using one of the parachutes the police delivered. I want you to come with me.”
He was serious.
“You said I had a decision to make. So that means you’re not going to force me to, right?”
“Right.”
I might be impulsive. But there was no way I’d do something that reckless. Right?
After twenty minutes of flying in no particular direction, Lance finally made his first move. He had been checking the parachutes and counting the cash for the past fifteen minutes. I wondered if he’d even be able to carry all that money, considering how weak he was.
He looked like he was almost ready to jump. My heartbeat thumped faster.
If he jumped he’d probably die. I hope he dies, I thought. And yet, something about that didn’t feel as true as I thought it would. It shouldn’t have been any of my concern whether he died or not. But I couldn’t help myself, not when he’s younger than me. Not when his smile was so innocent. Not when I knew his name. I grabbed his arm.
“What’s in it for me?” I said, without thinking.
“What?”
“If… if I come with you. What’s in it for me?”
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