I force my eyes to his face. He’s completely calm, maybe even amused, and I want to punch him in his stupidly perfect face.
“Turbulence has never brought down a commercial aircraft,” he says. “Not once in the entire history of aviation.”
“There’s a first time for everything.”
“Not for this.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I looked it up.” He pulls out his phone, scrolling through something. “I heard you telling Mason you hate flying so I thought I’d look up some stats.”
“You… researched turbulence? Why? Because you thought my irrational fear might respond well to random statistics?”
“For my own peace of mind.” But there’s something in his expression that suggests otherwise. “Look. Severe turbulence, the kind that actually causes injuries? Happens to about fifty flights per year. Out of millions. And even then, the plane doesn’t crash. People just get hurt because they weren’t wearing seatbelts.”
“That’s supposed to make me feel better?”
“You’re wearing your seatbelt.”
I look down. I am, pulled so tight it’s probably cutting off circulation.
“See? You’re safe.”
“I don’t feel safe.”
“What would make you feel safe?”
Mason holding my hand again.The thought comes unbidden and I shove it away.
“Landing.”
“Well, that’s going to happen eventually either way.”
“Jesus, seriously?”
“Sorry, bad joke.”
The plane drops again, harder than before, and this time Atticus’s eyes go wide. His hands shoot out, gripping his armrests, and for the first time since we took off, he looks actually afraid.
“Okay,” he says slowly. “That was… different.”
A hysterical laugh bubbles up my throat. “Not so calm now, are you?”
“That felt like?—”
The captain’s voice crackles over the intercom, cutting him off.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We’re experiencing some unexpected severe turbulence. Please ensure your seatbelts are fastened securely. Flight attendants, please take your seats immediately.”
The plane lurches sideways. Someone screams—not me this time, maybe the flight attendant.
“Additionally,” the captain continues, and there’s something in his voice that makes my blood run cold, “as a precautionary measure, please locate the oxygen masks in the compartment beneath your seats. In the unlikely event they’re needed, place the mask over your nose and mouth and breathe normally.”
“Unlikely event?” My voice cracks. “What unlikely event?”
Atticus doesn’t answer. He’s staring at the locked cabin like he can see through it to whatever’s happening in the cockpit.
The plane drops again. Not a bounce or a lurch but a full drop, like someone cut the strings holding us up. My ass leaves the seat entirely, held down only by the seatbelt, and the scream that tears out of me is pure animal terror.
