{Amara}
"Yes, Marissa, I'm leaving for the airport soon. Uh-huh, I have my dresses and my shoes. Please don't bring up your brother; it's enough that he'll be in your wedding party. What do you mean play nice? I'm always nice, it's your brother that's the unbearable one. Yeah, yeah, I love you too."
I hung up the phone already annoyed and frustrated with the weekend that hadn't even started. I grabbed a long black cardigan and draped it over my gray t-shirt dress and said bye to my darling Teddy before leaving for the airport. I don't even know why I give that cat so much of my love. The only time he wants anything to do with me is when he's hungry, and then after he's fed it's back to treating me like the shit in his litter box. I need a man.
I arrived at the airport in record time and tipped the Lyft driver before entering the terminal. I checked in at the self-check-in kiosk and cringed. 24B? Oh, hell no. I can't sit all the way in the back and between two strangers at that. I eyed the drooling customer service representative. Oh, he likes what he sees, I thought to myself, formulating a plan to try and get an upgrade.
I leaned in, peering at his name tag. "Ian is it?" I asked the gangly ginger man.
"Y-yes ma'am," he stumbled.
"Oh no baby, just call me Amara," I winked grasping his hand from across the counter. He visibly gulped and I had to give everything I had to keep a smile on my face. His hands are so fucking sweaty...I mean got damn!
"You seem cool. We should hang out when I'm back in town. Wouldn't you like that Ian?" I cooed. He nodded furiously with his ginger hair shaking everywhere. "Here's my number," I drawled sliding my "number" to him scrawled on a luggage tag.
"By chance Ian, are there any vacant seats in First Class? My sciatica tends to act up from time to time and the extra legroom would do wonders and make my four-hour flight bearable."
"L-l-let me check for you...Amara," he whispered while he furiously typed away on the keyboard. "There's an aisle seat left. I can upgrade you for free."
My eyes sparkled in excitement. This was too easy. "Oh my God, I think we just became best friends!" He grinned and I almost felt bad for scamming this sweet innocent boy.
"3A. Much better Ian. Don't forget to call sweetie." His cheeks turned a shade of inferno red. Poor thing, I thought as I halfway skipped to security. Oh shit son, my sciatica! I turned around and found Ian watching me with a puzzled look on his face. I blew him a kiss, causing him to avert his eyes.
I made it through security without any complications. It seriously baffles me when it takes people forever to get through security. I swear some people act like it's their first time flying, like little miss miss over here in her lace-up heels. Damn wear slides until you get through security or something.
I sauntered to my departure gate with a chocolate chip frappe and a slice of lemon loaf from Starbucks. I settled into a seat and pulled out a paperback mystery to pass the time until we boarded.
{Austin}
Of course, the weekend of my brother's wedding had to be the busiest week of my career. My assistant Drew assured me that he could handle things on his end and insisted that I focus on unwinding and having a good time, but my Type A personality refuses to obey.
I was cutting it close and knew that my plane was beginning to board, meaning I missed priority boarding. Great, now I have to wait with everyone else. Coming to New York is a huge inconvenience with everything I have going on with my real estate business. I begged James to have the wedding here in Texas but like a lovesick puppy, his soon-to-be-wife got her wish to be married in her hometown amongst her family and childhood friends.
I knew ahead of time that I would be devoting the next several hours towards work. Drew purposely purchased the seat next to me so that I could avoid being annoyed by another passenger and distracted from my work. I was finally permitted to board after standing in that insufferable line for over twenty minutes. Seriously, why does boarding take so long? People behave as if they've never traveled before. Find your seat, throw your bag in the overhead bin, and sit your ass down. It's as simple as that.
I entered the cabin and was greeted by a leggy blonde flight attendant. "Good evening and welcome aboard Delta Airlines! My name's Stacy and I'm here to attend to your every need," she said seductively biting her lip. As much as this busty blue-eyed woman is my type, I'm just not in the mood.
I acknowledged her with a grunt and breezed past her to find my seat. To my utter dismay, someone was already occupying my seat. My fist clenched in anger. This is the shit I'm talking about. I approached the mocha-skinned woman and attempted to grab her attention. She was singing quietly to herself, something about her type and riding dick all night. Ugh, how vulgar.
"Miss? Miss? Miss?" What the hell? It's like she's in her own little world. I yanked the wireless earbuds out of her ears, not giving a single fuck. She looked at me, quirking an eyebrow with much attitude. "May I help you, angry White man?" she snapped. "Yeah, you can get the hell out of my seat, stupid Black woman!"
A collective gasp echoed from the other passengers in first class. What? She can call me White but I can't call her Black? Freaking double standards. She smirked confidently, obviously unrivaled. "I suggest you check your boarding pass again mister."
"And I advise you to do the same. I purchased both of these seats and I intend to have them both to myself."
"Is there a problem here?" Stacy interrupted. "Yes, there is this...this person is in my seat!" I sputtered.
"May I see your boarding pass miss?" Stacy asked sweetly. The rude woman smugly handed her the boarding pass. "Sir her boarding pass indicates that she's in the correct seat, 3A."
"This is impossible!" I shouted practically on the verge of a complete meltdown.
"Sir, your seat is 3B and you're the last to board. I need you to sit down so that we can depart."
"I'm not sitting next to her!" I shouted.
The woman covered her face and her shoulders began to tremble. When she looked up, she had tears streaming down her face. "It's because I'm Black isn't it?" she wailed. Wait, what? "I can't believe that in the year 2019, a Black woman in America can't simply travel in peace without getting harassed because of the color of her skin," she choked out.
"No wait, I'm not a racist!"
"Are you sure about that?" a passenger asked. "We all heard you call her a stupid Black woman not even five minutes ago!"
"He should be removed from the flight," a Hispanic woman chimed in. By now passengers in the main cabin caught a whiff of what was going on and began to voice their disapproval.
"I'm not a racist! Fine, I'll sit!" I shoved my bag into the overhead bin and squeezed past her to the window seat. Stacy kneeled down, handing 3A a couple of tissues and was whispering words of encouragement to her. 3A assured her that she would be ok and would reach out to her if she needed anything. I sat back in my seat, closing my eyes, wishing that I was anywhere but here.
3A began giggling to herself as she dabbed at her eyes. "That was too fucking easy," she sighed erasing the last tear from existence. I stared at her in abject horror.
"Wait one got damn minute! We're you fak-"
"Shhhhh," she hissed, cutting me off. "People can't know I was faking, then I'd look like some asshole," she whispered.
"News Flash! You are an asshole," I scoffed.
"Ehhh I have my moments. So listen 3B, we have four hours stuck together. Don't talk to me, look at me, or breathe in my general direction and we'll be just fine."
"Oh, you don't have to worry about that," I sneered. "And another thing, keep your filthy singing to yourself. No one wants to hear about you riding eight-inch dicks," I spat, buckling myself in.
She chuckled. "You're just mad because you wish you were eight inches." Not only did she get a plane full of people to believe I'm a racist but she's now insulting my manhood as well?!
I leaned into her closely. "You're right, 3A. I'm not eight inches...I'm much bigger," I whispered, ensuring that my breath caressed her ear. Her eyes instantly averted to my crotch and then back to her phone once she realized I caught her. "What's the matter? Cat's got your tongue?" I smirked.
"Wow, a racist and a sexual deviant?! Sir, I am not interested in the size of your penis!" she gasped aloud, clutching at her chest.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I hissed as the curious passengers looked our way.
"That's what happens when you break the rules. No talking, looking, or breathing."
"Fuck you, you annoying bitch," I growled.
"Come on," she said, looking at me with her big innocent brown eyes. "You're gonna have to do better than that," she said grinning from ear to ear.
"Woman you are a fucking nightmare. I have only known you for all of ten minutes and you are easily the worst person I've ever met. I bet your longest relationship only lasted two minutes, just long enough for him to bust a nut and leave your sorry ass."
A smile ticked at the corner of her full lips. "Five."
"What?"
"It took him five minutes to bust a nut, then he left."
She placed her earbuds back into her ears and began humming quietly to herself as the plane jetted down the runway. I am never flying Delta again.
