There’s something about the airport that stays the same no matter how many times Pie is there. Something about the warm plastic smell. Something about the shuffle of feet, people weary with travel or bright with anticipation. Something incredibly human, and hopeful. 

It doesn’t stop the people at the information desks from being snappy, though. It doesn’t stop the knot of anxiety that rests heavily in pie’s navel, the fear that something will go wrong, or she’ll end up missing her flight even though she’s two hours early.

‘You can go through,’ says the bored guard standing by the metal detector. Pie passes under the crude arch and the green light flashes. The guard shifts from foot to foot, and beckons the next person through. The rest of Pie’s luggage, a small suitcase and a backpack, slide over the rolling cylinders and come to a gentle rest in front of her, she picks them up and sets her suitcase down on the ground. The clock hanging overhead ticks closer to seven o’clock as she watches. Her flight was at eight thirty, gate three.

‘That’s time to get breakfast, right?’ Pie murmurs, looking around the airport. To her left, closer to the gates, is a semi-circle of shops and café’s where travelers with creased faces sip their coffee and try to stay awake. In the corner is a small shop boasting an array of baked goods and drinks, the glass visibly steamed with the heat from the food. She walks quickly, her suitcase clicking against the clean white floor.

‘What can I get you?’

The woman standing behind the counter flashes pie with the first smile she’s seen all morning, and the sweet aroma of the breads allow some of the tension in her back to soften. Pie smiles back.

‘A pain au chocolat please? And a glass of water.’

‘Good pronunciation,’ says the woman. The name tag on her shirt reads In. ‘Did you study French?’

‘A little bit, in school.’

‘Here.’ In hands the pastry over on a small platter. ‘There’s tap water and glasses in the corner, so you can help yourself.’

‘Thank you.’

Pie carries the plate to a table and sits down. The airport is slowly livening up, like a plant unfurling in the sun. A family or two trail in, children still rubbing the sleep from their eyes and blinking slowly. Possibly arriving for their first time going on a plane. The sun’s fingers probe gently at the heavy eyelids of businessmen; they sit up a little straighter in their seats.

‘Pain au chocolat, please.’

Pie looks absently at the counter. Someone is standing in front of In, their shoulders hunched slightly.

‘I’m sorry,’ says In. ‘We’re fresh out. Is there anything else I can get you?’

‘Out?’ the person’s voice rises slightly. ‘It’s not even eight in the morning!’

‘They’re very popular.’

There’s a pause. The person says, quietly. ‘Could I have a coffee then?’

‘Coming right up. Feel free to take a seat.’

They turn around and all but collapse onto the nearest seat. Pie focuses on her food. She doesn’t look up until she’s finished, scraping the last golden flakes from her plate with her fork, and immediately makes eye contact with the person – the girl – now sitting opposite her. The eyes she’s looking into are very, very bright. Pie’s gaze flicks down to the empty plate, and then back. She can feel her heart fluttering in , she resists looking away. She just ate a pastry, there’s nothing wrong with that. She hasn’t done anything wrong.

‘Coffee’s ready,’ says In, and the girl looks away. Pie lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

She drains the glass of water and gets to her feet.

‘Have a nice flight,’ says In. She’s still smiling.

Pie smiles back.

She passes the rest of the time before boarding in the chairs at her gate. Slowly the seats around her fill with people all travelling to Thailand with her, strangers with a common goal. As more people arrive, more people speaking her language Pie wriggles with the uncomfortable leaden feeling of homesickness. Luckily not one who dealt with it much during her travels, now that she’s on the edge of returning home, Pie can feel the sticky vines wrapping around her stomach. She thinks of her mother, her house, the sights and the smells she grew up with. Mixed in with the homesickness, she can also feel sparks of excitement alighting. I’m going home.

‘Flight 0993 now boarding.’

It’s only after Pie’s stored her suitcase overhead and sat down that she feels all the stiff anxiety melt away. She softens into the chair like wax, anxiety and excitement dampened by a sense of not being in control anymore. Everything up until now was something she had to do, get to the airport, get through customs, now she’s here on the plane and everything is out of her hands. Pie sighs, and settles back with her head against the seat. Out her window she can see the sun, bright and hot, and a blue sky. She closes her eyes.

Someone sits down heavily beside her.

She opens her eyes.

The loud girl from the café is in the chair next to her, staring straight ahead, her expression furious.  

Damn it.

 Pie closes her eyes again, trying to regain the sense of peaceful anticipation that had swept through her only moments before. But it was gone, leaving her tense. Was she going to take the ten-hour flight to yell at her for taking the pastry? Was she going to cause a scene? What if, Pie thinks frantically, the plane crashes in an ocean somewhere and the last person who saw her before she died was angry with her because of what she ate for breakfast.

Pie’s fingers grip the arm rests; she can feel her breathing dancing out of her control.

‘Hey.’

Pie whips around, the girl next to her is looking at her closely.  

‘Are you scared of flying too?’ the girl asks. Then she frowns. ‘Hey, aren’t you the –’

The engine rumbles into life, and the girl sinks back into her seat.

Scared of flying?

Out the window, the ground is sliding past them as the airplane picks up speed. At the head of the seats, two air hostess’ stand with demo seat buckles and life jackets, and demonstrate what to do if evacuation is Nessacary. Beside her, the girl’s eyes are closed. On her forehead Pie can see a faint glisten of sweat and the knuckles of her hands have whitened with the intensity of her grip.

‘You’re scared of flying?’ Pie says. ‘You mean you’re not angry?’

‘Angry?’ the girl says, distracted. ‘About what?’

‘About the – the thing at the café. How I ate the last pain au chocolat.’  

‘What?’ the girl’s eyes are darting around the cabin, Pie watches as her gaze lingers on the emergency exit. Her hands on the rests flex slightly.

‘Wait.’ Instinctively Pie reaches out and slides her own hand over the girl’s white ones.

‘I want to get off,’ says the girl, sounding like a child for a moment. Her voice is soft, her face is damp and pale. Suddenly all the apprehension Pie felt drains away, she pulls the girl’s hand off the arm rest and holds it firmly.

‘You’re ok,’ she says. ‘I’m going to help you, alright?’    

‘Help – how?’

‘Look at me.’

The girl turns her head slowly, almost unwillingly, but she does face Pie.

‘Ok,’ says Pie. ‘First things first – I’m Pie.’

‘I’m Kim,’ says the girl.

‘I saw you in the airport, at the café.’

‘I felt so bad about that,’ Kim mumbles. Her hand in Pie’s is warm, her breath is fast and shallow. ‘I gave the girl at the counter a big tip, so I hope that makes up for it, but still.’

‘Why did you want that pastry so badly?’

‘Because my flight had been cancelled,’ says Kim. Her voice jumps slightly with her erratic breath. ‘I just wanted to get on the plane and get it over with, but it was cancelled so I wanted something to take my mind off it. I thought chocolate might.’

‘I eat chocolate when I’m in a bad mood. Only chocolate cake though.’ Pie frowns, holding tighter to Kim’s hand. ‘I’m sorry you didn’t get to eat any.’

‘No, don’t be,’ Kim says absently. ‘I was being a baby.’

‘No, no! I think coming on a plane when you’re scared of flying is really brave,’ says Pie. ‘So you deserve to do something nice for yourself.’

‘I –’ Kim freezes, staring out the window. ‘We’re in the air?’ She looks at Pie, her eyes wide with panic and something else unreadable. ‘We’re in the air I didn’t even notice we took off! I –’

‘I was trying to distract you,’ says Pie. ‘Did it help?’

‘I don’t know.’ Kim isn’t facing her anymore, she’s turned to the aisle and is looking up and down for what, Pie doesn’t know.

‘Alright,’ she says. ‘I’m gonna try something else. Kim.’

‘Yeah?’ Kim twists around.

‘Tell me how you think this sounds. Obviously you know you’re on a plane and you can’t change that. But what if we made it less obvious for all your senses that you were on a plane?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well…’ Pie reaches into the seat pocket in front of her and pulls out a pair of earphones. ‘What if we, for example, played music so you couldn’t hear the engines. And you closed your eyes, so you couldn’t see that you were on a plane. That kind of thing. How does that sound?’

‘We can try,’ says Kim. ‘Thank you.’

‘Mm… think of it as an apology for misjudging you before.’

‘I don’t blame you,’ Kim mumbles, ‘I would have done it too.’

‘Come on.’ Pie holds out the earphones to Kim, who slips them into her ears. ‘What do you want to listen to?’

‘Anything.’ Kim’s eyes are closed again; she slumps back in her seat as Pie flicks through the music on the tablet attached to the seatback in front of Kim. When the music starts playing, she watches Kim turn up the volume. Pie sits back, hoping to see a shift in the tension that stands out in Kim’s rigid fingers, that clings to her forehead and lines her eyes. After a few moments of no change, Kim pulls the earphones out, shaking her head.

‘Sorry,’ she says, ‘it’s not working. I can still feel the vibrations of the plane.’

‘Hm.’ Pie presses her thumb into her cheek, thinking. Then she points at Kim. ‘I know!’

‘What?’

‘Here.’ Pie pushes up the arm rest separating them. ‘Can you sit with your legs folded?’

‘No, they’re too long.’

‘Well… can you turn your back to me comfortably?’

‘I think so.’ Kim twists, pulling one leg up under the other and bracing her hand on the seat.

‘Ok. Now put your earphones back on and close your eyes.’

‘Pie…’

‘Just trust me,’ Pie says, leaning around to look at Kim. ‘Ok?’

‘Ok.’

‘Good.’ Once again Kim puts the earphones back in, and when Pie leans forward it’s clear Kim’s eyes are closed. ‘Alright,’ Pie murmurs. She stretches out her arms and places them lightly on Kim’s shoulders. Kim jumps at her touch, but doesn’t turn around. Slowly Pie begins to rub slow circles against Kim’s back. She moves her fingers gently, trying to channel as much reassurance as she can through her touch and into Kim. An air hostess passes by, smiling at them.

‘Can I get you anything to drink?’ she asks.

‘No thank you.’

‘Anything for your girlfriend?’ she gestures to Kim.

‘My – um, no, thank you,’ says Pie, and the airhostess nods, leaving Pie with a flush that creeps up the back of her neck and tinges her cheeks pink. Her hands still on Kim’s back and Kim turns around.

‘That was wonderful,’ she says. Pie smiles faintly.

‘I’m glad it was helpful. Um, how are you feeling?’

‘Better. Thank you, really. Sorry for causing you so much trouble.’

‘Don’t apologize. If I may ask, why are you flying when you hate it so much?’

‘I’m going to visit my Dad,’ says Kim. Her forehead is still damp, but it’s abundantly clear that her breathing has calmed somewhat. Pie feels a strange roll of warmth in her stomach. ‘He’s a farmer. I’ve been travelling for a few years, and I thought it was time for me to go back and see him. What about you?’

‘The same,’ Pie says. ‘Except I’m going to see my Mum for her birthday.’

‘Ah,’ Kim’s smile is small, but genuine. For a moment Pie wonders if the lack of oxygen in the cabin means somethings malfunctioning. ‘You travel a lot?’

‘Kind of. I’m a marine biologist. I’m based at home but I travel around to examine different species. That’s why I came to Australia, I’ve been out looking at the Great Barrier Reef.’

‘That sounds amazing.’

‘It is,’ says Pie, feeling herself swell with the familiar love of marine life. ‘It’s so beautiful out there. This job has been like paradise for me, I can’t believe I’m being paid to do it. Ah, but does your job require a lot of travel? That must be tough on you.’

‘It can mean a lot of travel, but it really depends. I’m a journalist, I was out interviewing some people for an article I’m writing.’

‘And now we’re both going back to Thailand. But how do you normally get through the journey? Just sleep?’

‘Sleep,’ says Kim, nodding, ‘or count the seconds as they go by. I don’t really have a strategy for dealing with it which isn’t very good. I do watch movies sometimes.’

‘Oh, I forgot they have movies!’ Pie leans forward, turning on her own tablet. ‘I wonder if they have any good ones.’

‘You can watch a good amount in ten hours.’ Kim’s voice quivers slightly at the end of her sentence, she takes a sharp breath. Pie reaches out and takes her hand again.

‘Do you want to watch a movie?’

‘Ok.’

‘You can pick,’ Pie says, settling back. ‘I don’t mind what it is, as long as it’s not sad.’

‘Do you need earphones?’

‘Oh, right.’ Pie reaches into the seat pocket in front of Kim this time, feeling for another plastic pack of earphones. She frowns. ‘There aren’t any in here.’

‘If you don’t mind sharing you can use one of these.’ Kim holds a bud out. Pie smiles.

‘Thank you.’

Pie accepts the earphone and presses it into her ear, looking at Kim’s tablet. ‘What are we watching/’

‘It’s a kid’s movie.’ Kim rubs the back of her neck a little sheepishly, glancing down at Pie. ‘Is that ok?’

‘That’s fine,’ Pie says, shrugging. ‘I have to warn you though; I’ll probably cry at the end.’

Kim laughs.

They watch two and a half movies before Pie feels something warm drooping next to her, and a weight lands on her shoulder. She moves her head slightly and sees Kim with her eyes closed, her face open, fast asleep beside her. Kim’s hair is soft against Pie’s neck; she can feel Kim’s breath on her skin. Her stomach is full of sparks again, but not because of their imminent arrival to Thailand. It’s something else completely. When the same airhostess from before walks past, Pie just nods at her. There’s no way to convince her she and Kim aren’t dating now. A part of Pie hopes Kim will stay asleep until they’re safe on solid ground again, and she doesn’t have to be scared anymore. Another, louder part of Pie hopes Kim wakes up so they can finish watching the movie together, because it’s a silly comedy and the sound Kim makes when she laughs is one Pie’s beginning to suspect she wouldn’t mind hearing again and again and again.

When Kim does wake up, with wild eyes and a red patch on her cheek from where it was resting against Pie’s shoulder, she seems to briefly forget where she is.

‘Kim,’ Pie calls softly, ‘Kim, look at me.’ Kim does, her face pinched with fear, her body shaking. ‘Listen to me. We’re only an hour away from Thailand now. We’ll be beginning our descent soon. We’re almost there.’

‘We’re nearly there?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Ah.’ Kim seems to fold in on herself, she slides to the side.

‘I bet you can’t wait to get off the plane,’ Pie says, giving her a little shake. ‘Not long now.’

‘Well,’ says Kim, her voice muffled slightly because her face is pressed against Pie’s side again. ‘This trip – hasn’t been too bad.’

Pie tries very hard not to smile for too long after she says that.

The final hour of the trip passes much faster than Pie wants it too, and soon the plane is landing with a thud. Kim and Pie walk together through customs. Before they reach the doors that lead out into the wider airport, Kim pulls Pie to the side.

‘Can we have lunch sometime?’ she asks, looking at Pie. ‘Please? I really don’t want this to be the first and last time we meet.’

‘Here.’ Pie pulls out a pen from her pocket and writes her number on Kim’s arm. ‘Call me. I’d love to have lunch, especially seeing as you slept through the one on the plane.’

‘Oi,’ says Kim, grinning. ‘Well, I guess I’ll see you later.’

‘Yeah. It was nice meeting you.’

‘You too.’

And then Kim’s hugging her, briefly, far too briefly, before she pulls away and walks out through the doors to where her father is no doubt waiting. Pie takes a deep breath, and follows.

(one week later)

‘You have to put up with me again,’ Kim says, stowing her luggage in the overhead compartment.

‘It’s ok. I have a whole new list of things to try to help you through the flight.’

‘Oh?’ Kim sits down besides Pie, grinning. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind? You didn’t get sick of me even though we had lunch almost every day last week?’

‘If I recall correctly I think I invited you on several of those lunches.’

‘Maybe you were just being nice.’

‘You could be right,’ says Pie, sighing. ‘Maybe I actually don’t like you very much, I’m just trying not to hurt your feelings.’

‘Well, you’re doing a great job. My feelings are the opposite of hurt.’ Kim raises her eyebrows. ‘So, what are your ideas?’

‘Well, there is this one,’ Pie says. ‘Tell me what you think.’ She pushes up the arm rest between them and leans over, reaching out a hand to ghost over Kim’s cheek. Slowly, slowly, she closes her eyes. And then she waits. One second passes, two seconds, and then she feels Kim’s hand threading through her hair. She feels Kim’s lips, quick and light on hers, like a mistake almost, except then they’re back, and she trails her hand around to rest under by Kim’s jaw, and Kim is kissing her sweetly, carefully. They break apart, Pie stays close enough to rest her forehead against Kim’s, and smiles at her. ‘Well? Did it work?’

‘I don’t know,’ says Kim, a little breathlessly. ‘Maybe you should show me again.’