The Trouble with Flying (16 page)

“Uh, no,” I admit as I wander into the lounge with Aiden just behind me. “It usually leaves me draped over an item of furniture in a useless, sticky mess. Which is the state I was in before you rang the doorbell.” I wipe my sweaty hands on my shorts. “And it’s what I still sort of … seem to be.”

“I think everyone’s a sticky mess right now,” Aiden says. “I’ve certainly never experienced anything like this.”

“Would you like some iced water?” I ask, heading for the kitchen. “It’s the only thing I drink when it gets this hot.”

“Yes, that would be great, thank you,” he says. It doesn’t sound like he’s following me, though. I turn back and see him looking at the collection of family photos on the wall. Well, I suppose it can’t hurt to leave him there for a few minutes. The photos aren’t
too
humiliating.

I move slowly around the kitchen, filling two glasses with water and breaking a few ice blocks from the tray I refilled last night. Then I think about Emily and Aunt Hannah outside and figure they might want some water too, so I take out another two glasses. When I eventually walk back into the lounge carrying all the glasses on a tray, Aiden is nowhere to be seen. I set the tray down on the coffee table and look out the door to the garden. Sophie is lying on a yoga mat beneath a tree with a pencil in her hand and a sketchpad in front of her, but there’s no Aiden. I walk back to the front door and peer out. Emily and Aunt Hannah are having an animated discussion about something, but Aiden isn’t here either.

“Weird,” I mutter to myself. Perhaps he went in search of a bathroom. I walk down the passage to see if the bathroom door is closed, but before I can get there, I pass my bedroom. And there’s a tall male figure standing at my desk. With one of my notebooks in his hand. Open. He turns the page just as I blurt out, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

He jumps, drops the notebook, and swings around with a hand on his chest. “I … uh … your bottom drawer was open.”

“And you thought that was an invitation to help yourself to its contents?” My hands are shaking. Mainly from an overload of embarrassment, but I suspect there’s some anger in there too. A small amount of outrage at having my privacy violated, even though it’s Aiden, and he’s probably one of the few people I’d actually allow to read my notebooks if I were forced to pick someone.

“Well, uh …” Guilt is written all over his face, so it’s clear he knows he shouldn’t have been touching my stuff. “I saw the notebooks. And I figured they were full of your stories. And I was curious …”

I take a step back and point down the passage. “You need to get out of my room.”

“Right. Yeah. Of course.” He slides past me and hurries back towards the lounge. I wait in the passage for a bit, trying to contain my mortification. I wish I knew which pages he read. How bad were they? Ugh, I’m DYING! This is SO EMBARRASSING! No one is supposed to read the rubbish I scribble down!

I slowly enter the lounge and sit down without meeting Aiden’s gaze. He’s doing that nervous tap with his fingers on the armrest of the couch, just like he did on the plane. “I’m so sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have gone into your room, much less touched your notebook.”

“Let’s never talk about it.” I’m still staring at the floor. I hope I never have to know what he was thinking while reading those pages.

“But, Sarah,” he says, “it was really good. Whatever story I was reading, it was very—”

“Stop,” I say, finally looking up. “Everything in that notebook is a rough first draft, okay? It’s so far from perfect that I’m the only one who should ever read anything in there. So don’t try to make me feel better about this gigantic embarrassment by telling me that what you read was actually
good
.”

“But …” Confusion crosses Aiden’s face. “I’m giving you my honest opinion. I only read a few pages, and no, they weren’t
perfect
, but the story was gripping and the characters were intriguing. I wouldn’t have kept turning the pages if I wasn’t—”

“Okay.” I stand up and grab one of the glasses from the tray. I take a long gulp before returning it to the table. “We, uh, need a change of subject. I … I was going to show you something. Yes, that’s what I was going to do.” I run to the kitchen, using up the small burst of energy provided by the iced water, and rummage in a cupboard for the rectangular package with colourful images of cartoon animals painted onto its blue surface. I return to the lounge. “These,” I say, holding the package up, “are zoo biscuits.”

Aiden lowers his glass and looks up. “Oh. Cool.” He seems more relaxed now that I’m no longer ordering him out of my room or telling him how dreadful my stories are. “Do I get to taste them?” he asks.

“Yes.” I sit on the couch beside him and tear open the packaging. I slide the plastic tray containing the biscuits out and tip it upside down on the coffee table, spilling the biscuits across its surface. Part of me panics about the crumbs going everywhere, but I tell my neat-freak side to take a break.

“Wow, they’re quite bright,” Aiden says, picking up a biscuit covered in blue icing with a white dolphin shape on top.

“Yeah, so if you have any kind of food colouring allergy, speak now.”

Aiden examines the biscuit. “Well, if I didn’t before, I might after eating this.”

“Hey.” I nudge his knee with mine. “They aren’t
that
bad.”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, are you going to taste it or not?”

“Wait, I haven’t checked all the animals yet. I need to be sure I’ve picked my favourite.” I roll my eyes as he examines the various colours and shapes. “Okay, so we’ve got dolphin, a flying duck, a bear, a …”

“Springbok,” I say.

“Right. And … some other shape I have no hope of identifying.”

“It’s a squirrel,” I say with a laugh.

“There is no way that’s a squirrel.”

“It is. Look.” I pick up the green covered biscuit and turn it so the squirrel is sitting upright.

“Hmm. You may actually be right.” As he tries to take the biscuit from me, his fingers brush against mine, and I don’t seem to be able to let go. My eyes find his, and once our gazes are locked, I have no hope of looking anywhere else.

So there I am, my fingers glued to the stupid biscuit and my eyes glued to Aiden’s face. And I’m pretty sure I’m imagining it, but I think his face might be coming closer to mine.
No, no, no, this isn’t good. Not good. Not good. Don’t do it.

“Hello-o?”

As if someone flipped a switch, my hand drops from the biscuit and I jerk away from Aiden. He looks startled, as if he just woke up from a daydream.

“Anyone here?” The shout is coming from the entrance hall. I jump up—whoa, too fast, too hot, head spinning, DON’T pass out!—sway for a moment, then navigate my way out of the lounge without falling over. Emily and Aunt Hannah are standing at the open front door peering inside. I’m about to walk over to them and welcome them inside when my mother rushes down the passage patting her hair. Before I know it, she’s at the door greeting the two of them, finding out who they are, introducing herself, and apologising for hiding out in her bathroom because it’s the coolest room in the house right now. She’s just inviting them into the house when a honk outside makes them all look out the door.

“Matt and Malcolm are here,” Mom calls over her shoulder.

I turn and look back at Aiden. He’s munching on something while returning the zoo biscuits to the plastic tray. When he walks over and joins me in the doorway, I say, “Well, what do you think?”

“It was … very sweet.”

I shake my head and head to my room to fetch my bag.

Malcolm drives Matt and me, and his mother takes Aiden, Emily, and Aunt Hannah. When we climb out in the parking lot at uShaka Marine World, Aiden, Emily and their mother are arguing.

“ … won’t talk to me about it,” Aunt Hannah is saying.

Aiden lets out a frustrated breath of air and says, “Can I have my phone back now?”

“I just think you should call her,” Aunt Hannah says.

“No, Mum, he does
not
need to call her.” Emily snatches the phone from her mother’s hand and drops it into Aiden’s back pocket.

“I just think that if there’s a chance—”

“No, Mum,” Emily says. “I know you don’t believe me, but I’ve told you before how she—”

“Look, it’s actually no one else’s business except mine,” Aiden says. “So I’d appreciate you both keeping your prying eyes away from my phone.” He strides away from us towards the entrance.

I shoot a questioning look at Malcolm, but his only answer is a shrug. I look at Matt, but he only just climbed out of the car after putting the sun reflector over the dashboard and doesn’t seem to have heard the argument.

We cross the parking lot and climb the stairs to where Aiden is standing in front of the enormous open jawbone that welcomes visitors to uShaka Marine World. It’s a replica of an ancient species of shark. A megalodon, I think it’s called. Emily and Aunt Hannah exclaim over the sheer size of the thing, and Emily gets her camera out. I walk to Aiden’s side and quietly ask, “Is everything okay? I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I kinda heard … back in the parking lot …”

He smiles at me. “It’s nothing. Just a … complication from back home. It doesn’t matter.”

I nod, wondering what the complication’s name is and how close she and Aiden are.

After taking a few group photos in front of the megalodon jaw, we head for the aquarium entrance. Matt takes my hand and holds onto it firmly, as though I might run away if he lets go. Once we’ve passed all the shops and restaurants and arrive at the Sea World entrance, Matt and his mother examine the board with the ticket prices. They have a brief discussion, then Matt turns to the rest of us. “Okay, so we were going to get tickets for both Sea World and Wet ’n Wild, but since it’s dangerously hot today, I think we should just do Sea World.”

“Which is … the aquarium?” Emily asks.

“Yes. Largest aquarium in the Southern Hemisphere,” Matt says proudly, as if he had something to do with it.

“Wet ’n Wild?” Aiden whispers to me, his eyebrows raised. “Isn’t that a brand of—”

I elbow him in the ribs before he can say it. I clear my throat and say, “It’s the water slides and tubing and stuff like that.”

He smirks at me. “They could have given it a less dodgy name.”

“Or you could just get your mind out of the gutter,” I suggest.

Matt frowns at me, and I wonder how much he overheard. I step away from Aiden and pull my hand out of Matt’s grip so I can get my purse out to pay for a ticket. I should probably keep away from Aiden as much as I can today so Matt doesn’t end up exploding.

“It’s
inside
a ship?” Emily squeals as we walk down the ramp into the aquarium. “That’s amazing.”

“Yes, they constructed the whole thing as if it’s an upside-down shipwreck,” Matt’s mother tells her. “The aquarium tanks are all built in as part of it, so you walk through the ship to view them.” She continues telling Emily and Aunt Hannah everything she knows about the aquarium, while I focus my full attention on the cool air blowing across my skin.
Thank you, God, for properly functioning air conditioners.

We begin winding our way through the ship’s interior, allowing ourselves to be dazzled by every shape, size, colour and pattern of fish. I have mixed feelings about aquariums. I don’t like the shows they put on with dolphins and penguins and things, because I’ve heard horrible stories of how those animals are treated sometimes. But the display tanks built into the shipwreck are incredibly beautiful, and I hope I’m not deluding myself by imagining they feel just like the real ocean to the sea creatures who inhabit them.

I stop beside one of the tanks and run my hand along the wall. A wall that mimics the rusted metal interior of a shipwreck. I imagine a storm at night, the ship tossed about in violent waves and the crew falling all over the place. Unceasing forks of lightning tear through the sky, and thunder loud enough to rattle the bones of the dead reverberates through the ship’s skeleton. Jagged rocks hide beneath the water’s choppy surface, getting closer and closer. The ship rams into them, flinging its helpless crew across the deck. The hull fills with water. The crew try desperately to save their ship, but it’s too late. The water is flooding in faster, and people are screaming, and the ship is—

“Sarah, come on.” I blink and find Matt coming back around a corner with Aiden just behind him. “You’re getting left behind,” he says with a sigh, taking my hand and pulling me after him. We join the rest of our group, and Matt jumps into the discussion about the Nemo/Dory tank as if he’s been part of it from the start. Nemo and Dory. Now there’s a good story. I wonder if Aiden’s seen the movie. My gaze moves to him, and I’m startled to find him watching me. I raise my eyebrows in question.

He laughs quietly to himself. “I understand now.”

“Understand what?”

“How you almost missed a flight. You were doing it now, weren’t you? Watching a story play out in your head. I saw how you totally zoned out.”

“I …” I shake my head. “I really need to stop doing that.”

“Yes, you do,” Matt says, giving me a small smile. I hadn’t realised he was listening to us. “Otherwise you might end up zoning out while driving a car one day, and who knows what could happen then.” He kisses my cheek, then adds, “You didn’t tell me you almost missed a flight, babe. When was that?”