City lights look like glitter dusted over planes of pitch black from 35,000 feet in the air. Peering down at clouds and earth, seeing nothing.

Then it’s like light was invented. Hovering over a city or small town, illuminating the dark so much even God could see it.

Blood shot sleep deprived eyes widened at such a beautiful sight.

Rileigh pulled her black and white cardigan off to form some sort of pillow. The plastic corner of the plane window didn’t serve much for comfort. Then again with the altitude shifting, there wasn’t exactly warmth either. Should she be cold or rest her head on hard plastic? Decisions, decisions.

A layover in Chicago had made her day even longer, the poor girl had been fueled by caffeine and a blueberry scone from a coffee shop. For three hours, Rileigh searched for an outlet to charge her iPhone, finally beat level 65 of Candy Crush, and listened to every Lindsey Stirling song possible. Flipping virtual candies could only go on for so long. Wandering the opposite direction of the coffee shop led her to a lounge meant for business men. No one was relaxing in the push chairs, so she plopped down in one, kicked off her ankle boots and sat curled up for a nap. In her way of comfort (the world was out to get her in this area) was a book wedged in the crack of the seat cushion. She pulled it out, reading the yellowing cover of “The Picture of Dorian Gray.” Hadn’t that been assigned in a sophomore English class? Forgetting every detail of it, she started in the first few pages, trying to navigate Wilde’s use of decorative language. Reading wasn’t always a hobby, but it distracted her to another world. At some point a man in a suit gave her a look, but she gave a quick excuse of her “father” taking a call. When her phone alarm buzzed for her to reach the next terminal, the book found its way into her purse as she rushed off.

Although unintentional, she had stolen it regardless. If it was left in the first place, then it wasn’t really theft, right? After the plane took off, she read another chapter before she gave up. A shuttle had taken her from the hotel in Pittsburgh to the airport at 9:40 a.m. At 11:55, there was one flight to Chicago, an unnecessary 6 hour layover (thank you, storm delays) and now she was catching the last transfer back home.

Minimal sleep, copious amounts of caffeine, and cold temperatures mad this one of the worst traveling days Rileigh remembered. The plane took off only 45 minutes ago, but it felt like hours. She switched to another song on her phone, something chill,electronic and down tempo. She doesn’t have time for lyrics anymore these days.

“You look like you could use some coffee.”

She only heard him over the low sound of the beat. People around her were sleeping (much to her envy). Out of her peripheral vision, she saw someone stop at her row, two seats separating them. Pausing the song, she took out one headphone.

“Sorry, music.” Rileigh said.

The boy that stopped wasn’t a flight attendant, but looked as if he knew every passenger. “I said, ‘You look like you could use some coffee.’” He repeats, adding a smile.

Why was this guy asking if she needed coffee? He looks around her age, early 20s, plaid shirt and grey jeans, shaggy hair that looked like it had been slept on. It was obvious he didn’t shave that morning.

“Um…sure? Though it’s not like I really need more caffeine.” Rileigh accepts this random offer.

“Cream or sugar?” His tone was that of a butler.

“Half and half, if you can.” She awkwardly said.

“Light or dark?”

“Light, please.”

“One Nicaraguan roast with half and half coming up, miss.” This guy is so goofy, getting coffee for strangers when he doesn’t even work here.

He walked back up the aisle to the entrance of the small galley and grabbed the attention of a young flight attendant. She smiled with a laugh, disappeared for a few minutes, and appeared with a Styrofoam cup and a napkin. Rileigh watched him come back up the aisle.

“Here you are miss, I hope you enjoy the finest brew Western Air has to offer. “ His smile and sarcastic British-butler accent was too much.

She took the cup, warm in her hands but too hot to sip right now. “Thanks, that was nice.” She said, offering something that was supposed to be a smile, but she was sure it looked awkward and strange.

He just flashed that smirk-smile again and turned back towards the front, hand still on the outer seat. He took a step forward, then paused and brought his foot back.

“Business class actually really blows when you have a fat sales guy snoring next to you. Is anyone sitting there?” He pointed to the empty seats she was blessed with.

Boredom was killing her and there was still another two or three hours on this trip. Why not. Rileigh liked talking to strangers sometimes, it was anonymous. It wasn’t like she’d really ever see him again.

“Sure, go ahead.” She moved her emerald Michael Kors purse off of the seat next to her and put it in front of her feet.

“Thanks,” the boy sat down right next to her instead of the outside seat, strange for someone you just met. “I’m Benjamin, by the way. Holm.”

“Rileigh,” she said, offering a hand. “Rileigh Ellis.”

Benjamin Holm took her hand and gave a firm quick shake. “Can’t sleep, Rileigh?”

“Um, haven’t really slept since about 8 last night. I woke up from an all day coma and had a ridiculous layover in Chicago.” She groaned.

“How are you still awake? That’s like almost 30 hours…” Benjamin looked at her in disbelief. “What brings you to Salt Lake City?”

“Home.” Rileigh answered quickly, not really wanting to go into details of why she was flying back from Pennsylvania. She took a sip of her coffee, he made it well. Or the flight attendant did. Who ever.

“Why did you come over and offer me coffee?” she finally asked.

“Ha, well, almost everyone on this plane is asleep, so I thought if I saw a pretty girl who was also up, it would be rude to watch her suffer. You either need sleeping pills or coffee on flights like this. Also, no, I don’t work here. My cousin is one of the pilots.”

“Ooohh, gotcha. Thanks again, you’re right about the caffeine thing.” She offered a small supposed-to-come-out-as-a-smile-but-doesn’t smile.

All of a sudden a jolt in the plane caused her still full coffee to splash over the tray and drip onto her white striped sweater. It wasn’t just one shake, it was a series of them. Clouds were blocking the small windows, no more glitter dusted skylines. After a few more seconds of pause shake pause shake shake, the seatbelt lights dinged on.

Rileigh’s skin turned clammy and her arm hair raised, not because of the chill. Her left hand dug into her balled up cardigan on her lap, her right hand gripped the arm rest for dear life. Turbulence was something that set her off. No, that was too light of a term. Her heart raced, adrenaline pumping through her tired body, her confused brain thinking the worst and jumping to conclusions. Sometimes anxiety caused her to fidget or have the need to move, to flee. Considering they were suspended in the air at hundreds of miles per hour, jumping out of her seat was not an option. She quickly tightened her seat belt as tight as it would go around her already small hips, back straight and pressed against her seat, every muscle tensing and locking in panic. Eyes were wide and almost unblinking as they fixed on one point ahead of her. The jolts and shaking were still going on, why couldn’t they stop?? Pilots were supposed to control these kinds of things, right? Her mind forgot all about Benjamin sitting next to her, only regarding the alert anxiety and praying that this would stop, internally begging for solid, stable ground.

She barely noticed when Benjamin put on his own belt, somehow wiped up the spilt coffee and was leaning over to lock her tray up. He was calm and smooth in the midst of all of this. Flight attendants as well had taken their seats, the belt light still lit up.

“Attention passengers, we are experiencing a bit of rough air causing turbulence. Please stay seated and upright, we’ll be in smooth sailing soon enough.”

The pilot’s announcement sounded so at ease. Was no one experiencing the same thing? The jittering nerves freezing up? She held her breath to keep from hyperventilating, breathing in sharp through her mouth and keeping it there. She blinked twice, a trick she had developed to keep herself focused during attacks.

“Hey!” Benjamin’s voice was closer to her face. “Hey, are you alright?” He tried to catch her eye.

“An-“ she mustered “Anxiety. Turbulence.” Words didn’t come easily, but hyperventilating on a plane was not the correct choice right now.

“Hey, ok, it’ll be all right,” Benjamin hesitantly took her right hand from the arm rest, it was warm and solid, something much better to hold. The notion made her break her fixed gaze to look at her hand in his then up at his face. He looked genuinely concerned and reassuring. He was right, this would pass. The plane was getting less shaky by the second, and it had even stopped for a while. The light was still on, and just as she was able to get a few breaths in, a huge jolt and a tilt in the plane to the left set it off again. The shift made Benjamin bump into her, their arms touching. Rileigh’s shoulders hunched and tensed, her head instinctively ducked, eyes shut, tears forming. It couldn’t just stop, could it.

Her hand was let go for a second then held again in a more awkward position, fingers grasping fingers. Benjamin’s left hand moved from Rileigh’s to her shoulders, hesitant at first, but still soothing. She forced her eyes open, realizing the plane had stabilized again. Looking up, Benjamin’s eyes were focused solely on her, full of concern, eyebrows together. 

“Hey, it stopped shaking. We’re good. You made it through.” He tried to reassure her, tilting his head to meet her gaze. “Are you okay?”

She gave a short nod, filling her lungs with air again and trying to get her heart rate to slow down.

“Thank you,” Rileigh finally managed. “You didn’t have to do that. I’m fine with flying, just not when you’re shaking thousands of feet in the air.”

“Yeah, well, what was I supposed to do, just sit here and let you struggle?” his voice sounded like teasing but his face was still serious. “I know what a panic attack looks like. Don’t ever catch me in pitch black, I’m a lot worse than you just were.”

The humor caught her on a light note, she let out a nervous laugh.

“You’re afraid of the dark?”

“No,” he defended. “I’m afraid of pitch-black-deep-as-space-can’t-sense-anything-dark. There is a difference.”

“So, you get free coffee on planes, are also going to Salt Lake, and are afraid of pitch black darkness. What else?”

He smiled and rolled his eyes. ”Me? You just freaked out over turbulence, have blue hair, and by the way you’re still holding my hand.” He looked down at their hands, fingers still interlocked.

Rileigh instantly felt her face burning up, released her grip and ran her fingers through her surely messy hair. Green? Clearly this guy didn’t know his colors.

“It’s mint, not green.”

“Oooh, mint. My apologies.” He teased again. Benjamin Holm, weird, but he certainly had a charm on her.

She gave him a side glance and on second thought, actually noticed how attractive he was. There was scruff, yeah, but his eyes were a toffee color, not hazel, but not dark either. It was a comforting gaze, not a mysterious or intense one. Something made her trust him.

“You’re tired,” he said as a fact, not a question. Her eyes were completely blood shot by now from panicking and being awake for so long. She had been stifling yawns during their whole conversation. “You’re also freezing.” He took her hand again to try to warm her up.

“Well, there’s only an hour and a half left, I might as well wait until we land.”

“And wander to baggage claim like a zombie? I bet you’d pass out before you got your luggage.” He thought for a second then took her cardigan, folded it into a square, leaned back and set it in a weird position on his shoulder. “There, get comfy, I can be a pillow until we start to land.”

Rileigh should’ve felt even more awkward and embarrassed, but maybe it was the fact that he helped her through an attack or his steadiness. She felt comfortable as she rested her head and adjusted in her seat to fall asleep on this stranger’s shoulder. Their arms touched and her left hand brushed his as she finally drifted off out of exhaustion.

It didn’t matter; they’d be on their separate ways after they exited the terminal.