They boarded the train at 5:15 in the afternoon. Sliding the shorter ends of their orange tickets into the machine, they collected it from out the top, before passing through the opened barrier.
It was a particularly fast train from Southampton to Gatwick airport; Cay wasn't used to being delivered quickly via long-distance transports. Although he didn't like the prospect of paying an extra £30 for a flight from the chosen airport, he was also thankful that he resisted taking a 5-hour ride on a National Express bus to Stanstead. Judas, however, didn't mind either option.
The airline was a Spanish brand, at which Cay complained to Judas about the lack of English translation while booking the flight online two weeks ago. The seats fitted, but to Cay's surprise, there was not a single USB port to be found on either of his hand rests, nor was there one on the headrest in front of him. And it didn't have a screen. Cursing silently, he went for his Jeffrey Eugenides novel and continued where he had stopped, one quarter through.
Their flight had not yet backed away from where it was stationed.
“You reckon that they’ll be departing soon?” Judas asked.
“Yeah, but take-offs always feel eternal.”
“I guess so.” He responded, chuckling.
Cay went back to his book as Judas pulled out the standard magazine from the compartment just above his knee. His movement was brief and fluid, as if there were no friction between the glazed surface of the reading material and the elastic synthetic web-basket that held it. Cay watched with awe throughout the entire process, but not long enough for anyone to notice.
Laying his head on the right side of the pseudo-headrest, he pulled the book closer, attempting to look like he wasn't distracted by that stunt. Judas put down his magazine and stared out of the window as the aeroplane finally backed away from the terminal, the pages resting on the large title “To Rome, We Visit.”.
Cay didn't flinch or take any notice as the aeroplane ascended from the strip and continued onward to the scheduled destination. He was not a frequent passenger of any sort of airborne transportation, and did not take pleasure from the exhilaration of the shifting G-force.
All the while Judas was holding onto the hand rest, the prominent veins on his hands pulsating vaguely, but still noticeable. He was staring straight ahead with slightly widened eyes as the pressure continued to come from above.
The two ordered a cup of water and a small bottle of Rioja Vega Crianza. The latter was for Judas after the plane had reached optimum altitude. They flipped through the menu and discussed over if they should pay for a meal or two, because Cay had forgotten to finish the hummus wrap in his fridge.
While eating an onion-chutney and cheddar cheese sandwich, Cay asked if Judas was content with only consuming wine.
“I’m fine, thanks.” He nodded, taking another gulp from the half-finished glass.
They went about their business shortly after the cabin lights were back on and the seatbelt signs were off, and when Judas was less tense! The plane cut across the night sky towards the stars, leaving England behind.
*
"Yes, I would love to be your girlfriend!" said Jenna.
As a slightly younger Cay filled with exhilaration and astonishment, he took a few steps backward, unable to process what the woman that he liked for months had just said. Jenna’s eyes were burning with compassion and determination, which rebuked him even more.
“Did you really just say that?”
“Yes, I’m your girlfriend now.”
“…Oh, wow….” He grinned, and hugged Jenna.
It was not always Cay had moments like that, or anyone at all! To Cay, it felt like a once-in-a-lifetime accomplishment, even though he had lovers before the woman sitting in front of him.
After the embrace, they kissed, passionately, like any two who just got together after a few months - or possibly years of struggle - guessing who he or she liked, analysing dubious signs when passing each other by, and asking certain questions after waking up in the same bed the next morning. Jenna led Cay back into his room, leaving the ceiling light in the middle of the shared kitchen on.
Cay had always wondered about Jenna, particularly her name. Jenna Quentin Tong was born in one of rooms of the Royal United Hospital in Bath and raised in Frome, a small town just South of the city. Her loving parents who immigrated from Taiwan back in the 1980’s had mostly stayed in England ever since; growing their Chinese takeaway within the little and insignificant town.
Her first name was even more interesting to Cay than her middle, which meant “Fifth” in Latin. The only answer Jenna gave him after their first courting was ‘Why would I want to be named Jenny? It sounds too common, I hate it. It’s even worse when parents add ‘-fer’ after Jenni”.
They went about their business in his room, along the hallway where 4 other students lived, their doors identical and spaced between each other almost perfectly. Second term was almost ending, and Cay was slightly struggling with referencing. He had never cared about it until he was given his first assignment on the university’s campus.
But right now, it mattered not, as Cay slipped into a state of half-conscious ecstasy while Jenna was on top of him, half-naked with her hips moving slowly, back and fro, enjoying every movement she made.878Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡB7EEaKK0Gh
