I don't like her. The flight attendant, I mean. She walks with in a very kept manner, her chin high, revealing an awkward jaw line. Annoyed with something, she pushes me in my assigned seat and her hands are ice cold on my olive skin. I cringe and shiver at the contact and examine the woman I have been selected to sit next to. She has on a blue sweater and jeans. I recognize the blue. You can only attain that from the Wealthy Sector. Well, the people there don't actually call it that.They call it the proper name: Idyll, meaning paradise. Clever. But perfectly true. It is the place where people travel in bubbles and ride flying trains and other crazy rumors that I've heard. It also where those who possess the most amounts of money are placed to come together to make decisions for the greater good. Personally, I think it's c--- that the people who have the most are automatically deemed smarter.

As I run through the things my father once told me about such a place, I realize the woman's eyes finally catch mine, and I look down and away. I am not the social type. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her slightly smile and extend her hand. I sit back up and take it with my own, my expression remaining the same blank way it always does.
"Jane," she says.
"Sadie," I reply.
"It's a pleasure to meet you."
I smile a bit, too.
I look towards the front of the plane. A man I assume who is the captain is walking towards me down the aisle. When he gets to my seat, I sit up.
"Hello, you must be Sadie. I'm your captain. Captain Johnson. Is this your first time flying alone?" he asks.
I shake my head no, lying.
"Great so you know the drill."
I nod.
"Just let me know if there is anything to make your flight more enjoyable or comfortable.
I nod.
"Thanks, I say. But for now, I'm good."
I don't like getting help or needing it for that matter. Never have. But I try to be polite. Maybe I should've told the truth that this was in fact the first time I had flown alone. It's also one of my first flights ever for that matter.
I think about taking a nap. It's an eleven and a half hour flight from New York to France. Actually now its name is just Paris, because some important battle there that we failed to learn about in Education Centre was so great that the changed the name to Paris. Our world is weird.
I decide to get some rest when I see a boy coming down the aisle who catches my eye. Immediately. That usually doesn't happen with me.
His hair is light brown with bits of blonde barely there in it. It hides most of his forehead and is messy. I estimate his height to be around 5'10''. He's attractive. But, he looks nervous as his eyebrows are slightly scrunched inward and up.
My heart starts to beat a little faster. He is walking towards my seat.
The flight attendant that I don't like is with him, guiding him. They stop next to Jane who is seated on the aisle. She raises her eyebrows, questioning why they stop at our row.
"Ms. Andrews, would you mind switching seats with this young gentlemen? He is flying alone and requested to be seated next any minor that was alone as well."
I hate how she says "minor." Lawfully speaking, I am not a minor. I can be by myself my whole life if I wanted to. Not to mention I am perfectly capable of doing that and flying alone.
Jane looks at me, like she's asking if it's okay.
I nod that it is although I'm not sure if I am making the right choice here.
The boy and Jane switch places, and the flight attendant proceeds to lead Jane towards the back of the plane. That's when I lose sight of her. But, that's when I attain a close up sight of the boy.
He doesn't let my eyes linger for long before he's looking at me. And that's when I inhale sharply, like a little gasp. His eyes. For a moment I'm not sure what color I decide to call them. They are blue, but not your typical- "beautiful light blue piercing eyes" that you would imagine. No, they are not even beautiful at all. Well, that's not true. They are an understated beautiful, one that doesn't draw too much attention to the average person, but doesn't go unnoticed by those who look closer.
Entirely blue, no. Green, no. A mix. A shade someone might expect to be a darker color like the ocean. But it isn't. His eyes are bright, lively. But that spark of energy also projected nervousness. A hint of fear lingers there. Why could he be afraid?
"My name is Sadie," I say. I want to talk to him.
"I'm Beck."
"Pleasure."
"Is mine," he smiles softly.
I blush for some reason then look down again.
"Are you okay?" he asks.
"I'm fine...," I say, confused.
"I actually need to use the bathroom, I'll be right back," I say shakily. I carefully step around his knees and feet and use the seat in front of him for support as I enter the aisle. I make my way to the back of the cabin, and my lovely friend the flight attendant is there pouring some soda into glasses filled with ice. I don't look at her.
I go straight into the bathroom. Then the plane jerks forward and starts to roll. We must be taking off. I head back to my seat, forgetting to actually use the bathroom. But I don't need to.
I look ahead to my seat from the back of the plane, and I don't see Beck's head. He is tall. I should see him from here. Is he there? I continue to walk down to where he is. When I get there, I realize he is sitting down almost normally. But not quite. He doesn't notice me, so I observe him. His hands are around his knees and his head and shoulders are hunched over. He's shaking... Beck is shaking. I wonder why. Maybe he's afraid to fly in a plane or something. I touch his shoulder lightly, and he jerks back, startling me. He looks around frantically like he doesn't know where he is.
"Are you okay?" I ask eager to know what's going on with him.
He doesn't acknowledge me for a few seconds. Then he looks up at me and I see those eyes with more fear than before.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he says. But he's not. I know he's not. You know when a person lies about being fine, but their tone of voice and body language says otherwise? That was what was happening.
¨¨
I reached across him again and plopped down in my seat.