Chapter 7 HOT SEATMATE

Finally, at the airport, I thought I would feel that excitement, you know.

I am finally leaving everything behind, but it feels colder than I expected.

I will miss my sisters, and yes, they can be annoying.

I looked up, trying to blink back the tears in my eyes.

People were moving around, families having a time, couples taking selfies, and solo travelers scrolling through their phones.

I sighed, opened my phone, and scrolled to the gallery app.

My fingers hesitated before tapping: Albums → Recently Deleted.

I found countless pictures of Jun and me.

My eyes went to one of us, smiling at a Chinese restaurant in Chengdu. Then the sight of him kissing my cheek at the New Year's countdown. Lastly, the blurry photo of our hands interlocked under a blanket during that stormy night in April.

It was weird how you could look so happy in a photo but feel like a stranger to that version of yourself now.

My thumb hovered over the "Delete All" button, shaking a little.

The phone asked if I was sure.

I pressed yes, and the pictures vanished.

I stared at the blank screen for a moment, my eyes glassy, then shut the phone and tucked it into my pocket.

"Attention, all passengers on flight JL44 to Los Angeles," a voice sounded through the terminal speakers.

"We are now inviting passengers in Group A to begin boarding."

A sharp breath left my lungs as I sat up straighter.

That was my flight.

I watched as people began lining up and immediately took out my boarding pass.

Another announcement. My group.

I stood slowly and dragged my suitcase behind me.

The boarding agent scanned my pass and smiled. I returned a weak one, the best I could manage.

I stepped onto the plane and waddled gently down the aisle, dragging myself like a tired walrus, trying not to whack anyone in the head with my bag.

People were already giving the "Oh no, she's coming to my row" face.

Get that a lot.

I mean, it's a talent how fast strangers can judge your entire existence with just one glance.

I finally reached my row, turned the corner, and what a miracle!

The two seats beside my window were empty.

"Thank You, God," I whispered under my breath.

I took my seat, exhaled with a sigh, and leaned my head against the window.

I love window seats.

Give me clouds over people any day.

But the trauma?

The trauma of being a plus-size passenger in an economy seat? I've earned medals for surviving.

I had taken a few local flights before.

Nothing major, just regional trips around China.

And it wasn't a very good experience for me.

I remember one trip where a mother and her young son sat beside me.

I smiled politely at first, trying to make more space so the little boy would be comfortable.

The woman didn't even try to hide her irritation.

She sighed loudly, pulled her son closer, and whispered something in Chinese under her breath.

She didn't know I was half Chinese and couldn't understand.

Or maybe she just didn't care.

I pretended not to hear.

A few minutes later, she raised her hand and called a flight attendant.

"The black woman is too big. She's taking up all the room. My child can't breathe," she said in Chinese.

Ma'am, your son is chewing his seatbelt and humming. I think he's fine.

The flight attendant didn't know what to say, but her eyes apologized on behalf of the woman.

I forced a smile back, then lowered my eyes and stayed quiet.

What else could I do? Apologize for being in the body I was born in?

Then there was another. I was seated next to an elderly woman.

Mid-flight, I needed to pee.

Granny bluntly told me that I should've used the restroom before boarding. I shouldn't travel if I can't sit still. And lastly, that I am too fat to be moving around.

Ma'am, you snored with your mouth open, and I didn't complain!

I secretly prayed for turbulence to shake some kindness into her.

Now, sitting in this sweet, blessed, empty row, I am not fully relaxed because I know the pattern.

Someone always shows up at the last second.

"Lord, please. No angry mothers. No body shaming grannies. And lastly, no one thinks I'm taking up 'too much space'. I just want to breathe in peace."

I checked the aisle again, then sighed, staring out the window like some heartbroken main character in a film.

Then boom, the memory of my breakup flashed back into my mind.

Oh Lord, not this again, I groaned inwardly.

"He told me the reason was that I was fat.

Thank you, Captain Obvious. After sleeping with my sister, you suddenly realize that? And here I was thinking I was just fluffy with extra personality. Were you blind when you approached me at first? I am fat, and you are too, too, Jun!

He went, 'Oh, but I'm a man... so it's different. I'm rich, so I'm like a ten. You're a woman... so it's different, you are like a two.'

Just say you want to break up in peace and go! Then he replied. 'The truth is I've always been in love with your sister Chloe. '

I can't believe I was in love with such a jerk!

I was talking to myself, mimicking his voice, exaggerating his facial expressions.

Then suddenly, I felt a presence beside me. I turned my head slowly in robotic mode and found a man dressed in all black sitting at the aisle seat!

My eyes first went to the tattooed fingers scrolling on his phone, then to his face.

A black nose mask covered the lower half of his face.

His jet black wolf cut styled medium hair cascaded down to his neck level, just enough to cover one side of his side profile.

I snapped my head back to the window so fast I heard my own neck crack.

WHAT. THE. FUCK!

When did he sit down?! And I was talking to myself! Out loud.

LOUD and doing voices.

He probably thinks I'm not mentally okay.

This is so embarrassing. What am I going to do?

Do I say hi?

No, he'd probably think I was trying to flirt.

I mean, he didn't say hi to me first, right?

Did he? But I was too occupied with my own thoughts.

No, he doesn't look like the kind that says hello to ladies first.

You think he would care to say hello to me?

Better if I just pretend this row doesn't exist and continue watching clouds.

His cologne swirled across my nostrils.

Oh, sweet Lord. He smells good!

Okay, Charlotte, play it cool. You are not desperate; you may be a virgin, but not desperate.

Don't do anything stupid.

Don't look at him again.

Definitely don't compliment his scent.

Just keep pretending the window is interesting.

But for how long?!

I cried inside.