We sat next to each other on that metallic bench with black seats. Behind us: the decaying storm. And in front of us: a big empty space waiting for something fun to happen. Conor took his head off my shoulder.
“This is not the end, Ash.”
He jumped up and gaped at me like a boy scout on the last day of summer camp, ready to embark on one final adventure.
“Come on, get up. We have some time to seize,” he exclaimed, and a grin as large as California appeared on Conor’s face.
A new sense of life filled the airport as the ceiling lights lit up the hallways again. We watched the runway behind the windows get busy as we packed our stuff. Several trucks scraped away tons of snow to bring everything back to functionality.
Conor grabbed my hand, pulling me behind him as we ran to god knows where. We walked past people getting ready to board their planes soon, hopefully. The airport staff had to handle screaming customers at the service desk again. And I shook my head as I realized that only yesterday, I was one of those wailing humans. It’s strange how far away that seems now.
As more and more shops opened, the smell of breakfast filled my nostrils.
“Step One: Coffee,” said Conor and pulled me into Starbucks.
A middle-aged woman with glasses that were almost bigger than her forehead worked behind the bar and smiled at us as if she had had a perfect night’s sleep.
“Good morning. How are you today?”
Conor glanced at me, wary after I snapped at that waiter in the diner yesterday.
“We are doing well, and you?” I said and felt the uncomfortable urge to smile back at her.
Look at me, engaging in small talk as if it was no big deal.
Conor mouthed a silent “Wow” as if he was really surprised by me being so casual about talking to a stranger.
He ordered a Peppermint Frappuccino Mocha, and I settled for an Americano without anything. As soon as the barista turned around, Conor leaned close to my ear and whispered, “Who would have thought you could be kind to the staff?” producing a ticklish feeling that made me purposely bite my lip to suppress it.
After he paid, we walked to the end of the bar, where the drinks were being served, and sat down on two wooden bar stools.
“So, if this is step one, what is step two?” I asked, worrying about whatever surprise he might have planned now.
“You will see, Ash. It’s a quality surprise. I promise.” He smiled at me, and after everything, I had good reasons to trust him on this.
When the barista yelled our names, Conor sprinted over, took both cups, and handed me mine. He grabbed my hand, dragging me behind him again as if he didn’t want to lose another second.
I would have thought that many people would look strange at two teenage guys running for ten minutes through an airport holding hands like newlyweds. But to my surprise, nobody cared.
We reached a small rounded staircase with a turnstile in front of the first step. A sign announced that up the tower was a lookout with “the most spectacular view in the area.”
I raised my eyebrows at Conor. “This is your big surprise?”
“I saw it yesterday on the map but thought it would be useless as we couldn’t see far anyway. But now it should make sense.”
Next to the turnstile was a board telling us to pay three dollars per person. I’m not too fond of spending money on stuff like this, but if Conor wants to do it, I guess I want to do it too.
I pulled some bills out of my pocket and fed three dollars into the machine. Conor, that sneaky little fox, positioned himself behind me, hugged his arms around me, and carefully made us walk through the poles together. As my legs touched the metal, they moved with a loud whirring sound.
“That’s cheating.”
Without warning, he jumped off the ground and hopped on my back, almost making me spill my Americano.
“Even together, we still weigh less than the average American, so technically, this is only fair.”
“Woah, shit. You are heavy.”
“Did you just call me fat?” he joked.
He was nowhere near fat. I think even I am heavier than him because of the muscles I have diligently gained in the last few years.
“I’m sorry, I can’t piggyback you up all those stairs.”
“Then you should begin training for our wedding as soon as possible. I expect you to carry me all the way to the altar, through the whole ceremony, and the party until we are in our private chambers.”
Without even giving me a chance to respond to his outrageous demands, he passed me and sprinted up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. I was still baffled that he had just talked about something so absurd as ‘our wedding’ when he suddenly yelled, “Whoever is up first wins.”
It is so stupid that he always starts a competition and then tells me that afterward, so I have no real chance of winning it at all. But that’s the Conor I missed so terribly.
I grabbed the handrail, gained some momentum, and tried to catapult myself as far forward as possible. Our trampling rattled the staircase. Somehow I managed to catch up, and as I got close enough, I saw an opening. I tried to grab the handle of his backpack with the full intention of pulling him back as hard as I could. But out of the corners of his eyes, he saw what I was planning and started moving his body in a zig-zag up and down, making it impossible to get a hold of the handle.
“No chance,” he laughed. I slowed down and started walking at a regular pace because the round staircase made me dizzy.
—
“It’s even better than I imagined,” said Conor. A deep blue hue covered the room, the runway, and the surrounding snow-covered pine trees. Our gazes were drawn to the sunrise as the blue turned lighter and lighter until, finally, the sun emerged fully on the horizon, and everything was painted yellow.
Conor walked around the platform, trying to take in every inch of the view the glass vantage point offered. I, on the other hand, enjoyed watching Conor. He smiled so honestly at the impressive combination of airport buildings and nature around us. It almost made me cry to think that this would be one of our last moments together.
“Are you happy?” I asked and leaned on the railing to look at him while he glanced outside.
“I asked you the same thing fourteen hours ago.”
“And we both didn’t answer that question the way you meant it.”
Conor smiled at me, provoking a smile of my own. I grabbed his hand and pulled him as close to my body as humanly possible without crushing him.
For a moment, I wondered if we would have ever gotten to this point if we hadn’t parted ways all those years ago. But I quickly threw that thought away. It doesn’t matter. The only relevant thing is that we are here now.
“I enjoyed this so much.”
“Me too.”
Conor pressed his chin against mine, granting me another kiss.
“It’s almost time.”
“I know.”
After that, we didn’t speak another word. The two of us just hugged until the last second before we had to return to the gates.
—
The plane was overcrowded. It seemed like they put every last person who wanted to fly to Washington, DC, in here.
I found my seat next to a businessman wearing a cheap grey suit and a tie, already excessively typing on his laptop. I threw my jacket under my seat next to the aisle and, after storing my headphones in the net on the seat in front of me, put my bag into the overhead bin. A silent vibration in my pocket reminded me that I had to turn off my phone again. It was probably Mom asking if this plane would be on time. I glanced at the screen to see a message from Conor! My legs immediately felt like pudding. While clutching my phone like an egg that might break any minute, I settled into my seat. I opened the messenger app, and to my surprise, he didn’t write anything. He just sent the selfie of us snuggling in the airport hall right before the blackout. My face lit up with a smile as I realized this was the happiest memory I had made in a long time.
If he only could be on the same plane as me.
“Could you please turn on airplane mode?” The stewardess asked me before walking further through the small corridor without waiting for any response.
Not without answering Conor.
I tapped on the camera symbol and positioned myself in a way that showed the seats behind me. I made a V sign, pressed the red button, headed back to the messenger app, and sent it to Conor before I turned on airplane mode.
Done.
The business guy next to me tortured his keyboard.
“It’s almost certain to break if you keep punishing your keys like that.”
“None of your business, kiddo,” he hissed at me without looking up.
“Trouble because of the snowstorm?”
“You would think being snowbound in an airport gives you some time to relax. My ass!”
“Well, for me—”
“Can you please stop this useless small talk?”
He took out some headphones and put them in his ears so he would not have to talk to me again. I chuckled at his behavior.
Fourteen hours ago, I would have reacted the same way.
It is crazy how fast a point of view can change. Half a day ago, I hated traveling alone. Now it is the most fortunate thing that has ever happened to me. I hated Smalltalk. Now it’s no problem anymore. I was angry at everyone. Now I could kiss the whole world.
The plane’s speed pushed me into my seat as we took off. I closed my eyes, thinking about the last fourteen hours—picturing everything that had happened: meeting Conor again while waiting in line; how mad his teasing had driven me in the diner; how tight those damn SpongeBob swimming trunks were; his warmth in the cinema; our kiss in the storm; Conor sleeping in my arms…
Being away from him is depressing.
A tear ran down my cheek as I realized this wasn’t a dream. But I almost wished it had been because then it wouldn’t matter so much that it was already over.
I peeked at the business dude and imagined for a second that Conor was sitting next to me, flying to a home that was still right next to mine. But this will never happen. At least not soon. I shook my head to bring myself back to reality. Three-hour flight. It’s time for some music.
I pulled out the earphones I had stored in the back of the seat in front of me, pushed them into my ears, and grabbed my phone. I looked at it to unlock it, and for a moment, it seemed like I had gotten a notification. But the home screen appeared faster than I could read. I opened the messaging app, and there was a red circled ‘one’ next to Conor’s name! It must have come through before I turned on airplane mode! I checked my left and right before clicking on the message as if I wanted to ensure nobody else could read it.
“Wanna spend spring break together?”
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