The Trouble with Flying (17 page)

“Um, oh, it was … from Dubai to Durban. But it was fine. I made it in time.”

I keep a hold on my imagination for the remainder of our journey through the aquarium, and Matt keeps a hold on my hand. When we’re out in the sun again, Matt turns to his mother and says, “Should we have lunch somewhere while we’re here?”

“I was about to suggest the same thing,” she says. “And I don’t mind where we go as long as it has air conditioning.”

“That Moyo place looked cool,” Emily suggests.

Matt makes a face. “It’s not as good as it used to be. Oh, there’s a Cape Town Fish Market next to it, though. How about that?”

I frown and bite my lip. I want to point out that the Cape Town Fish Market is a rather pricy restaurant, especially since we just forked over a large amount of money for the ticket into the aquarium. But we didn’t end up going into the Wet ’n Wild section, so I guess I can afford to splash out on my meal. I nod along with everyone else, but then I remember another reason we shouldn’t eat there. “Oh, Aiden doesn’t eat fish.”

Matt looks at his cousin. “Is that true?” he asks in a tone of voice that might suggest he’s interrogating someone about a crime they committed.

“Uh, yes,” Aiden says. “But I’m happy to go there if everyone else wants to. I’m sure they have other stuff on their menu.”

We settle into a booth, and I find myself squished awkwardly between Aiden and Matt. WHAT THE HECK? I thought I’d carefully arranged the timing of my sliding onto the seat so I’d end up next to Emily. How did Aiden get past his sister? Now I’ve got his leg pressed against me on one side, and Matt’s leg pressed against me on my other side, and I’m a sweaty mess in the middle—because no amount of air conditioning can help me now.

I try to distract myself with the menu, but my legs feel like they’re burning up. Seriously, when did these booths get so small?

“What you gonna have, babe?” Matt asks me.

“Uh, I’m not sure yet.” How about a bowl of ice cream to cool down my burning body? No, wait, I don’t think my stomach can handle something so sweet right now.

“Have some sushi,” Matt says.

“Um …” I eye the prices next to the sushi and think about how I spent almost all my savings getting myself across the world to visit Julia.

“Just get some. I know you love sushi.”

“Okay.” I see my chance to escape for a few minutes. “I’ll go see what plates they’ve got on the conveyor belt thingy.” Matt moves so I can get past him, and I just about crawl across the seat in my desperation to get out.

“I’ll come with you,” Aiden says, giving Matt a suspiciously wide grin as he shuffles across the seat. I start to wonder if Aiden’s doing all this—arriving early and getting dropped off at my house, whispering to me, sitting next to me, accompanying me to the oh-so-far-away sushi bar—just to annoy Matt. Maybe this has nothing to do with me. Maybe he’s been pissed off at Matt ever since the mountain incident, just like Matt’s been pissed of at him, and the two of them are trying to see who’ll break first.

I stalk away from the table without waiting for Aiden. He joins me at the sushi bar a few moments later. He opens his mouth to say something, then hesitates. With a frown, he asks, “Is something wrong?”

I take a deep breath and shake my head. I’m too scared to confront him. I’m too scared to confront anyone about anything.

“Okay,” Aiden says, though I can tell he doesn’t believe me. “Well, I’m here for my sushi lesson. Tell me everything you know, Master Sushi-Eater. Not that I’m going to join you in eating it, of course. I just thought it might be time to educate myself in The Ways of the Raw Fish.”

Despite my frustration, I can’t help smiling at the rubbish spurting from his mouth. So I point out the various types of sushi on the plates travelling around the bar and explain what’s in each of them. By the time I’m finished, I still haven’t decided which one I want. I look around and notice some unusual sushi on a table nearby. “I wonder what those are.”

Aiden turns and leans against the bar. “Go and ask.”

“What?”

“Go over there, politely interrupt that young couple, and ask what kind of sushi that is.”

I stare at him in horror. “There’s no way I’m doing that.”

“Come on.” He leans closer to me with a glint of mischief in his eyes. “
I dare you.
”

That moment on the mountain comes rushing back to me. I’m standing at the edge, holding my hand out to Aiden, saying the exact same words to him. And he did it. He walked to the edge.

But this is different. There was no one on the mountain for Aiden to be embarrassed in front of, but there’s a restaurant full of people here. I’m going to stand in front of that couple and make a total fool of myself when I go blank and no words come out of my mouth.

“No,” I say, turning back to the coloured plates of sushi travelling on the conveyor belt.

“Sarah, if you don’t try, you’re never going to get any—”

“No!” I grab the nearest two plates and escape back to the booth. I have to wait for Aiden to return before Matt and I can slide back onto the seat, but I don’t make eye contact with him when he does. We don’t say anything to each other for the remainder of lunch, and, somehow, his leg stays far away from mine.

***

After lunch, the other three ladies disappear to find a bathroom, while Matt tells the rest of us he wants to check out the shark cage diving. Apparently he’s planning to do it the next time his friend Wiggins visits. I ask for Malcolm’s keys and tell Matt I don’t feel too well and will wait in the car for everyone.

I wrap my arms around my chest as I head past the shops and cafes towards the parking lot. The weather is changing, and a cool breeze brushes over my skin. My brain tells me I shouldn’t be feeling cold—I mean, this is
Durban
for goodness sake; a cool breeze in summer does not equal cold—but I’m shivery nonetheless.

“Hey, Sarah, wait for me.”

I stop by the megalodon jaw and look back. I frown when I see Aiden jogging towards me. I was hoping for a few quiet minutes alone in the car. “I thought you were checking out the shark cage diving.”

He stops in front of me and lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug. “I wanted to see if you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” I say automatically.

“Are you still upset because I dared you to speak to those people?” he asks. “Look, you pushed me to face my fear when we were up on that mountain, so I figured I’d push you to face yours. But I guess it wasn’t the right time for you.”

I shake my head and pretend to examine the oversized teeth inside the ancient sea monster’s jaw. “It’s not just that.”

“Then what?”

I let out a frustrated breath. “Are you
trying
to get me in trouble with Matt?”

“I don’t know. Are you
trying
to let your boyfriend control every aspect of your life?”

I look at him, my mouth dropping open the same way it did after Livi’s little speech. And just like then, my first instinct is to run. I don’t want to have this argument. I don’t want to fight with Aiden. I don’t want to fight with
anyone
. I bite my lip, then say, “We don’t need to talk about this.”

“Actually, I think we do. Or
you
do, at least. If not with me, then with someone else.”

I start walking. “I’m going to the car.”

“Do you run away from
every
form of confrontation?” he demands, his words stopping me in my tracks. “Because
God
, that is annoying.”

I turn back to him. My hands are shaking, but I manage to keep myself composed. “Thanks, but my name’s not God.”

“I—it—that’s just something people say, okay?”

“I know. There are a whole lot of people talking to God and they don’t even know it. Don’t you think that’s weird?”

His tanned face turns slightly red. “That’s not the point!”

“I know. Your point is that you think I do everything my boyfriend tells me to do, and I’m trying to distract you from that because I don’t want to argue about it. You have to admit, though,” I continue before he can get another word in, “that it’s weird how so many people talk to a God they don’t even believe exists. But you know what would be even weirder? If he
spoke back
. Like real, audible words. Just imagine it: A guy is walking down the street and he stops to light a cigarette. He accidentally burns himself and yells, ‘God, that hurt!’ And the clouds part above him and a great, booming voice says, ‘I know, son. You know what else hurts? Dying from lung cancer. This is a sign for you. Stop smoking.’”

Aiden stares at me as though tentacles are sprouting from my forehead. He shakes his head. “You can come up with as many stories as you like, but that doesn’t change the fact that you don’t have a clue what you want in life and you’re happy to sit back and let other people tell you what you should want.”

“Excuse me?” I shout, anger slipping past my calm facade.

“You couldn’t even figure out what you wanted for lunch! Your boyfriend had to tell you what to eat.”

“Oh, for crap’s sake, that was just
lunch
, Aiden. It means nothing.”

“It’s not just lunch. It’s everything. You had to ask your boyfriend’s
permission
just to walk a little further up the mountain. He drove you to and from the Drakensberg because he didn’t think you could handle the drive on your own.”

“Hey, that was not the only reason he—”

“You didn’t want to go to that restaurant today, but Matt wanted to, so that’s where we went. I bet the only reason you’re studying in Pietermaritzburg is because Matt suggested you go there with him. And you don’t want a career in science, Sarah, so
why are you studying science
? Is it because that’s what both your parents do?”

“Stop it!” I yell at him. “Maybe it’s okay not to know what I want yet. Not everyone has their whole life figured out at age nineteen.”

“No, they don’t. But most people have the sense to let go of the things they
don’t
want.”

“What exactly are you trying to say?”

“You don’t want to be with Matt,” he shouts, “so why are you hanging onto him?”

“I … maybe I do.” My voice comes out all wobbly, and I hope I don’t start crying now. “He … he takes care of me. He makes me feel safe. How is that possibly wrong?”

“Because it’s not the right kind of safe, Sarah. A bird is safe when it’s closed in a cage, but it isn’t
living
. It isn’t
flying
. You have beautiful wings desperate to stretch out and catch the wind.” He steps closer to me. “Don’t. Let. Anyone. Stop you.”

“And what happens,” I whisper, “when I fall?”

“Then you have someone waiting to catch you,” he says gently. “That’s the right kind of safe.”

I bite my lip, trying desperately to figure out who it is that’s supposed to catch me if it isn’t Matt.

“Be brave,” Aiden says. “Take a chance. Spread your wings.”

I shake my head and back away from him. “That isn’t me. I’ve never been brave.” I turn and run down the steps towards the car.

My throat is scratchy and sore, and my nose won’t stop dripping. At first I thought it was due to all the crying I did this evening, but the two jerseys I’m wearing and the five gazillion sneezes that have attacked me in the past hour have led me to a different conclusion: I’m getting sick.

I climb beneath my duvet and close the window next to my bed so the sound of bucketing rain isn’t so loud. I find my phone amidst the folds of blanket and search for the number of the one person I want to speak to right now. I snuggle against my pillows and listen to the ringing.
Please answer
, I think.
Please answer, please answer, please
—

“Hello? Sarah?” Livi says breathlessly, as though she had to run to get to her phone.

“Hey,” I say, picturing her having a fantastically fun evening without me. That would explain why her phone was far away and she had to run to it. Maybe I should end the call right now before we have a conversation that makes me feel even worse.

“Um, hi,” she says. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to return my call.”

My forehead creases. “Uh … what call?”

“Oh.” There’s a pause. “Didn’t Sophie give you the message?”

“No. She’s been out all evening. I haven’t seen her.”

“Oh. Well, I called you on the landline earlier. Because, um, I thought it might end up being a long conversation, and, you know, free landline calls on weekends and all that.”

“Oh yeah. You’re right.” With the gaping hole in my bank account, I should have thought of that. “That’s a good idea. I’ll call you back.” I end the call and climb out of bed. I shuffle down the passage in my slippers and fetch the cordless landline phone.

A minute later, I’m back in bed dialling Livi’s home number, which I’ve known by heart since we were in Grade Eight. She answers after one ring. “Hey.”

“Hey.” I rush straight into the apology before I can chicken out. “I’m really sorry about the other day. I shouldn’t have overreacted and run off like that.”

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things.”