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Central International Airport This choice: Justin decides to continue to the departure gate. • Go Back... No, Justin concluded; not enough time. Not to say everything that needed to be said. Better to call Betty when things were not so hectic; there would be time enough once he'd got to Honolulu, and before the Ararat meeting. Reluctantly, he hitched the carry-on bag over his shoulder and set off at a half-jog towards the departure gate.
There was still a fair few waiting to board as he got to the gate; Justin fell in at the back of the queue, and within the next five minutes or so was stepping through the hatchway into the plane. He glanced at the boarding pass; seat 11D - he'd insisted on an aisle seat. The last time he'd been on a long haul, it had been in a window seat on a red-eye flight, and he'd been in near-agony because he couldn't get past a sleeping woman to use the restroom.
There was his seat; and there was someone sitting in it. The occupant looked perhaps early twenties, lank brown hair and pinched, pimply face over a Green Day T-shirt and jeans that looked like goodwill store salvage. The faint hiss coming from the plugs in his ears left him screened out from the world. Justin tapped him on the shoulder. 'Excuse me?' he said.
'Hey? Que pasa, man?' One earplug was removed for better understanding.
'Sorry. I think you're in my seat.'
'Oh. Sure, no problem.' The young man hitched sideways into the middle seat of the group of three. 'You always kind of hope you've got space to spread out on these things, y'know? Flying like this, you kind of get to know how sardines feel.'
'Ain't it the truth.'
'For sure, dude. Hey, grab the seat, man, you're blockin' the aisles.' Justin nodded, quickly stashed his bag in the overhead locker. 'Pleased to meet you, man. Name's Eddie Gallardo, but most people just call me Spider. It's the legs that do it.'
Justin nodded. From the way that the kid was hunched up, he couldn't be much less than six feet six standing up, enough to make even him look a little short. 'Nice to meet you, Spider. I'm Justin Avery.'
From his slumped position, Spider tossed him an attempt at a leisurely high-five. 'Hey, Justin,' he said, putting the stress on the second syllable and making it sound feminine. 'You snore, man?'
The non-sequitur made Justin frown. 'Snore? No, don't think so.'
Spider grinned. 'Bummer. I do; probably keep you awake, man.' With that, he replaced the stray earplug and settled back in his new seat, eyes closed, losing himself in the music again. As the plane's engines kicked into full forward-thrust roar, Justin sighed quietly. Well, it could have been worse... | Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
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