seven.
"I've been meaning to tell you, I think your house is haunted. Your dad is always mad and that must be why."
I stopped my tears just long enough to notice someone loading items into the overhead bin above me. He was tall and muscular, his tattoos peeking out from under the sleeves of his t-shirt. The bottom of his shirt rode up slightly, revealing a chiseled torso. Clearly, he spent serious time at the gym.
Embarrassed, I turned quickly toward the window, trying to get a handle on myself. My nerves flared. The last thing I wanted was to sit next to some hot guy for a seven-hour flight. Or maybe it was exactly what I needed…something, anything, to take my mind off of everything.
But then, I heard his voice.
"Hey, it's Ducky!"
My stomach dropped.
The guy I had just been checking out wasn't some random stranger. It was Justin. Justin.
The universe was definitely playing a cruel trick on me, If I, of all people, was ogling him.
Before I could process the full weight of that realization, everything hit me again, my mother's betrayal, the fear of flying, and now the unavoidable reality of being stuck with him for hours. It was too much. My chest tightened, my vision blurred, and before I could turn away fast enough, the tears broke free.
Too late.
"Hey, is everything okay?" Justin's voice was quieter than usual as he settled into the seat beside me.
For a split second, I debated telling him everything. Which was strange. Maybe I was just so broken that I'd cling to anything…anyone…for comfort. But the thought of unraveling in front of him made my chest tighten even more. I wasn't ready for his condescending jokes, or slights.
I swallowed hard. "No, it's not. But I don't want to talk about it."
He studied me for a moment, his usual sharp gaze unexpectedly soft. Then, in a whisper, he simply said, "Okay."
We sat in near silence as the rest of the plane boarded. My phone buzzed, and I shot Mallory, seated two rows ahead, a quick text:
Mals: "How's it going back there? Are you okay?"
Auggie: "I could die on this plane and I would be totally okay with it…"
Mals: "What's going on???"
Auggie: "A guy was putting stuff in the overhead bin, and I couldn't see his face, but he was super fit. Like, ridiculously muscular. So, obviously, I was checking him out."
Mals: "Okay… and?"
Auggie: "It was JUSTIN. YUUUUUUUUUCK."
Mals: "YOU WERE CHECKING OUT JUSTIN OMG!"
Auggie: "I didn't KNOW it was HIM. It's going to be a LONG seven hours."
The flight attendants started the safety demonstration as the plane rolled toward the runway. I sighed and turned my phone to airplane mode, but the moment I did, my anxiety spiked. These deep breaths weren't cutting it.
"Are you a nervous flyer?" Justin asked in a low voice.
"How'd you know?"
He tilted his head toward me. "You're really pale, and your fist is clenched so tight your knuckles are white," he said with a small smirk.
I glanced down at my hand. He was right. I let out a small laugh as I forced my fingers to relax. "I've flown plenty of times, but I always panic. Every single time."
"Same here. I was terrified as a kid," he admitted. "But I grew out of it after traveling so much for work. You're gonna be fine. Just breathe."
His voice was unexpectedly reassuring. Then, to my surprise, he placed a gentle hand on my knee. Under normal circumstances, I would've recoiled, but instead, a strange calm washed over me.
The engines roared as the plane sped down the runway. My chest tightened, and I squeezed my eyes shut as we lifted off. Justin's hand stayed steady on my knee, his thumb brushing lightly in a soothing motion.
"It's gonna be okay," he murmured. "Just breathe."
I followed his instructions, each word helping until the tightness in my shoulders finally eased. As the plane leveled out and we reached the needed altitude, Justin moved his hand away. I opened my eyes and turned to him. He glanced back, his expression softer than I'd ever seen it.
"Thank you," I mouthed, too embarrassed to say it aloud.
He gave me a soft nod.
I finally looked away from him and rummaged through my bag, pulling out the book I'd brought to distract myself. I managed to read a couple of lines before I heard the flight attendant's voice.
"Can I get either of you a drink?" she asked with a polite smile.
"Yeah, whiskey on ice," Justin answered without hesitation.
"And for you, miss?" she asked, turning to me.
I hesitated. I was finally 21, but I wasn't sure if it was too early to start. Before I could decide, Justin jumped in.
"She'll have a glass of champagne and a side of orange juice," he answered.
"Wait, I didn't-"
"It'll help with the nerves. Trust me," he interrupted with a smirk.
I sighed, giving in, and folded down my tray table.
The flight attendant returned quickly, setting a napkin in front of each of us and arranging the drinks on my tray: a small bottle of champagne, a glass, and a cup of orange juice. I stared at the setup like I was trying to decode it.
Justin noticed. "You look like you're trying to solve a math problem," he teased. "Here, let me help."
He grabbed the champagne, popping the cork with a little pop that made me giggle. Carefully, he poured some into the glass, then added a splash of orange juice before setting it back down in front of me.
"First drink right?" he asked, leaning back and watching me with an amused expression.
I nodded.
He picked up his whiskey and held it out toward me. "Cheers."
"Cheers," I said, clinking my glass against his before taking a small sip.
The taste was bitter, and the bubbles dried my tongue out. My face immediately scrunched up. Justin burst out laughing.
"Champagne's an acquired taste," he said, reaching over to top off my drink with more orange juice. "Here, try my whiskey."
He slid his glass onto my tray. I wrinkled my nose but picked it up anyway. The smoky scent hit me first, and I hesitated before taking a tiny sip. It burned all the way down, making me cough.
Justin grinned. "Whiskey's an acquired taste too."
"Yeah, well, I think I'll pass on acquiring that one," I said, laughing as I wiped my mouth with a napkin.
"Hold on," he said, raising a hand to flag down the flight attendant.
She returned quickly. "Is everything okay?"
"Do you have vodka and cranberry juice? Oh, and water?" he asked.
"Of course. Are we celebrating anything special?" she asked, her gaze bouncing between us with a curious smile.
Justin didn't miss a beat. "Yep, our honeymoon! We just got married."
"What?!" I smacked his arm. "No, we didn't! It's my birthday, I don't even know this man, we just met!"
The attendant laughed. "Well, happy birthday," she said before walking away.
I turned to Justin, shaking my head. "What the heck, weirdo?" I said, stifling my laugh.
"Just a little fun," he said with a grin. "And I wanted to see if maybe we'd get some extra perks. You never know."
"We're already in first class. Perks are included," I said, rolling my eyes playfully. "Besides, you couldn't afford the carats I'd want anyway."
His grin widened. "Oh, I definitely could. But you don't strike me as a double-digit carat type. I'd guess… single round diamond, two carats tops."
I raised an eyebrow, playing along. "Close, but no. Pear-shaped, three to four carats, lab-grown because blood diamonds are a no-go, and on a platinum band." I raised my left hand, pretending to look at an imaginary engagement ring.
He tilted his head, pretending to consider. "Classy. I'll remember that for when Erik proposes. He's clearly loaded, so he'll probably get you the double digits if you ask." He laughed.
I laughed, rolling my eyes. "The last thing on my mind is marriage right now. I've got bigger things to figure out."
For a moment, Justin's expression softened, and I thought I caught a flicker of something genuine in his eyes.
"Well, when you are ready, just make sure he knows you've got high standards," he said lightly, his smirk returning.
I couldn't help but smile back. This version of Justin, the unexpectedly thoughtful version, was one I could definitely get used to.
I took another sip of champagne, still not liking it much. It felt like one of those moments when a kid's forced to eat their vegetables, except no one was actually making me. I set the glass down and turned to the window, watching the endless sky stretch out before us. And for a moment, there was true calmness settling over me.
"When you finish that, I'll have you try this," Justin said, nodding toward the mini bottles in front of him.
I raised an eyebrow. "Guess that's my cue to finish it, huh?"
Grabbing the glass, I tilted it back and began chugging. The bubbles burned a little against the inside of my mouth, and by the time I finished, my face had twisted into the same scrunched-up frown as before.
Justin smirked. "Still not a fan?"
"Not even close," I said, pushing the glass toward him.
"Here, let me fix that for you." He grabbed the empty glass, opened one of the vodka bottles with ease, and poured it in before cracking open a can of cranberry juice and topping it off. "I said it before, you're definitely a vodka cran kind of girl."
He handed me the drink, and I took it cautiously, pressing it to my nose for a quick sniff. It smelled like gasoline, or maybe rocket fuel.
"Great. This is promising," I muttered before taking a sip. To my surprise, it wasn't bad. "Okay, not terrible. Still gross, though," I said, laughing as I set the glass down.
Justin grabbed it from my hand and took a sip himself. His eyebrows shot up, and he grinned. "Needs more liquor!"
"More?" I exclaimed, wide-eyed.
He didn't hesitate, opening the second vodka bottle and pouring it in. He handed the glass back to me, looking pleased with himself.
I stared at him like he was insane but eventually relented. "Fine. But if this kills me, it's on you."
Taking a big gulp this time, I instantly regretted it. The burn traveled down my throat and hit my stomach. The aftertaste made me gag slightly.
"That's awful! I hate it! Not as much as champagne, though," I declared, shoving the glass away.
Justin burst out laughing, leaning back in his seat. "You're a lightweight, I can tell already."
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't deny it. I could already feel the tension in my body melting away. Every muscle seemed to relax, and my head felt light, almost floaty. Even my fear of flying didn't seem as suffocating anymore.
"Fuck," I muttered under my breath.
"What?" Justin asked, leaning forward with an amused grin.
"You were right. This actually calmed my nerves." I glared at him momentarily.
He raised his glass in a mock toast. "Told you. Stick with me, kid. I've got all the tricks."
I couldn't help but laugh, shaking my head. "You're ridiculous."
"And you're finally starting to loosen up. You're welcome," he said with a wink.
I rolled my eyes again but found myself smiling.
"Okay, now you need water. You've got to stay hydrated when you drink," Justin said, unscrewing the cap off a water bottle and handing it to me.
I took a big gulp and set it back down. "I definitely feel relaxed now. Thanks."
"It's all good," he said with a casual shrug. "When the attendant comes back, I'll have her take all this stuff, except I'm saving this little guy for later." He shook the mini unopened bottle of champagne lightly, smirking when I made a disgusted face.
I leaned back and closed my eyes, letting the alcohol work its magic. I could feel it coursing through my veins, weightless buzz settling over me. I knew I'd be a lightweight, but I didn't expect to feel it this fast.
The attendant, whose name tag read Marissa, came by shortly after, collecting our empty glasses and bottles. "We'll be serving lunch in about two hours. Would you two like a light snack in the meantime?" she asked with a bright smile.
Justin nodded. "Yeah, that'd be great. Thanks."
Marissa handed each of us a plate with a silver cover. I lifted mine to reveal a warm croissant with butter and pineapple jam on the side, along with a small bowl of mixed fruit.
I laughed softly to myself. First class was definitely the way to travel. Thank you, Mallory.
Tearing off a small piece of the croissant, I spread a bit of butter and a dollop of jam on top. It was warm, flaky, and practically melted in my mouth. I ate slowly, savoring everything. By the time I finished, Marissa had come back to collect our plates and handed us warm towels.
"Let me know if I can get anything else for you two," she said with the same friendly smile before moving on to the next row.
I used the towel to wipe my lips and hands, then set it aside, noticing how light my head felt. Was this what being tipsy was like? I wasn't sure, but I didn't hate it.
After our snack, things quieted down between us. Justin pulled his laptop from the overhead compartment and started working on something, while I picked up my book and tried to focus on reading.
Not long after I started, I realized I needed to use the bathroom. I stood up carefully, making sure I didn't stumble, and made my way down the aisle. On my way, I stopped to check in with Mallory.
"Hi!" I whispered as I leaned over Mallory's seat. She jumped slightly, then pulled out her headphones, realizing it was me.
"Oh, hi!" she said with a grin. "How's it going over there? Is it weird or anything?" she asked, intrigue written on her face.
"Surprisingly, I'm having a good time!" I admitted, feeling a little silly. "He had me try vodka, which was okay, and champagne, which was gross. I hate champagne." My voice got a little louder as I said it, and she laughed.
"Oh my god! Your first drink, and you shared it with him and not me?" she said, giving me a dramatic glare.
I laughed. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm more inclined to get wasted with you now."
"Justin had you drinking?" She raised an eyebrow, leaning forward conspiratorially. "Okay, but how's he treating you? Is he still...you know...Justin Justin or is he behaving himself?"
I paused for a moment, thinking about it. "Honestly? He's been really nice. Like...weirdly nice. He's being funny, a little annoying, but in that harmless way. Not at all what I was expecting."
Her eyes widened. "Wow. Color me shocked. I figured he'd make fun of you or be all cocky the whole flight."
"Trust me, same. But he's been...I don't know, kind of sweet? He even noticed I was nervous and helped calm me down before takeoff."
Mallory's eyebrows shot up even higher, and her mouth dropped open in an exaggerated expression of disbelief. "Justin? Sweet? Are we talking about the same person?"
I rolled my eyes. "Don't make me regret saying anything. It's probably just the altitude or something."
"Uh-huh. I mean you did think he was hot before you knew it was him Or maybe he has a crush on you," she teased with a mischievous smile.
"Stop it!" I whispered, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. "He does not. It's just...whatever. He's being a decent human for once."
Mallory smirked knowingly. "Okay, okay. But if he starts serenading you with a ukulele, I'm gonna need you to text me."
I laughed, shaking my head. "You're ridiculous. Anyway, I just came to check on you. I'll see you after we land."
"Fine, go enjoy your weirdly sweet Justin experience," she said with a wink.
I giggled and walked away, heading to the bathroom before making my way back to my seat.
"How's Mallory doing up there?" Justin asked casually as I slid back into my seat.
"She's good," I replied with a small grin. "Although she's jealous I got to share my first drink with you and not her."
He smirked and held up two new mini bottles. "Speaking of, I had Marissa bring us more drinks. Tequila and rum."
"Oh no…" I said, widening my eyes at the tiny bottles like they were trouble incarnate.
"We don't have to take them now," he reassured me, shrugging lightly. "Just eventually, so you can try a little of everything, without the commitment."
"Good point. At this rate, I'll be a professional by the time we land." I laughed softly, shaking my head.
"Exactly," he said with a small grin before turning back to his laptop. I returned to my book, letting the quiet settle comfortably between us.
At some point, I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew, I woke up startled as the plane jolted sharply. My heart jumped, and I noticed something soft draped over me, a blanket. I didn't remember grabbing one. Before I could fully process, Justin's hand was on my leg again, his voice calm and steady.
"Hey, it's okay," he said. "We're just hitting a little turbulence. You're fine."
I nodded, though my chest tightened as the plane rocked again. The turbulence seemed to get worse, and the seatbelt sign pinged on overhead. Panic set in as my heart pounded harder, and I felt myself gripping the armrests.
Without thinking, I reached for his hand, the one still resting on my leg. He didn't pull away, letting me latch on tightly.
"Just breathe," he said softly, his thumb lightly brushing against my knuckles. "This won't last long. I promise."
I shut my eyes, focusing on his calm tone and trying to ignore the shaking plane. The turbulence dragged on for what felt like forever, though it was probably only twenty minutes. Finally, the shaking subsided, and the plane steadied.
Embarrassed, I let go of his hand and sat back, exhaling shakily. "I'm so sorry. I just—"
"Hey," he interrupted gently, leaning slightly closer. "It's okay. Don't apologize. I've got you."
His words were simple, but the sincerity in his expression caught me off guard. I gave him a small, grateful smile before leaning back in my seat, pulling the blanket a little higher. For once, I didn't feel so on edge. I could actually relax.
He shifted in his seat, and I could sense his discomfort.
I turned to look at him, waiting until he finally met my eyes. "Is everything okay?" I asked.
He studied me for a moment, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. "We're friends, right?"
I tilted my head. "No… we're not friends." My tone was teasing, and he could tell.
He pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. "What! We're not?"
"We most definitely are not. This is the most I've ever talked to you! You literally hate me."
"I don't hate you," he laughed. "We're friends. We literally shared your first drink together. And if we weren't before… we are now." His smirk was lazy, confident.
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Why do I feel like you're saying that for a reason?"
"Okay, fine." He sighed. "I'm stuck on part of the Addison client project."
I gasped dramatically. "Are you… asking me for help?" My smirk deepened.
"Don't flatter yourself, kid." He chuckled, shaking his head as he reached for his laptop.
I lifted the center divider between our seats and scooted closer to see the screen. He turned it toward me, shifting as well.
"Let me see…" I scanned his work, immediately spotting where he was going wrong. "Oh, okay. Here's your issue." I pointed at the screen, tilting it toward him.
We worked on it for about an hour, bouncing ideas off each other. It was a nice break from the usual 'Ducky, that will never work' dismissals he gave me. This time, he actually listened—he heard my thought process, considered my ideas, and even agreed with them.
Eventually, he shut his laptop, turning to face me fully. His gaze lingered until I finally looked over.
"What's up?" I asked softly.
His smirk returned. "I think it's time…"
I groaned, already knowing what he was talking about. I yanked the blanket over my face.
He laughed. "C'mon, you promised."
"Fine," I relented, peeking out from under the blanket.
He grabbed the tequila bottle and cracked it open, handing me the tiny glass container.
"Just take a small sip," he instructed. "Breathe through your nose, not your mouth."
Before I could overthink it, I threw it back, finishing the entire mini bottle in one go.
Justin's eyes went wide. "You weren't supposed to drink the whole thing!"
My face twisted as the heat burned through my chest. I gagged, coughing as I tried to catch my breath, laughing and struggling all at once.
Justin patted my back gently, chuckling with me.
"I wasn't?" I exclaimed, still recovering. "Wait… did you want some?"
He shook his head, amused. "No, I mean, you need to take it easy. Tequila's hefty all at once."
His smile held genuine concern, and maybe it was the alcohol, but I suddenly felt warm for an entirely different reason. My face heated.
"Here," he said, handing me the water bottle. "It'll help get the taste out."
The moment stretched between us, I took a sip, but we didn't break eye contact. I was the first to look away.
"That was worse than vodka but not worse than champagne," I admitted with a giggle.
Justin exhaled a small laugh and turned to face forward. For the first time since we sat down, the silence between us felt awkward.
I cleared my throat. "Uh—can I get through? I need to grab my laptop."
Instead of letting me squeeze past, he stood and pulled my duffle bag down for me. I grabbed my laptop, and he put the bag back up. I hesitated before opening it. My email was the one place I hadn't blocked my mom, and deep down, I had a feeling she'd try to reach me there. When I powered it on, the WiFi wouldn't connect. I sighed in frustration, clicking through the network settings.
"I had trouble connecting earlier, let me see. I think I know the trick." Justin offered, holding his hand out. I hesitated for a second but passed it over. His fingers moved quickly over the keyboard, resetting the connection.
"There, that should—" His voice cut off.
I followed his gaze to the screen, my stomach twisting.
The second the WiFi connected, my inbox flooded with unread messages from her. The subject lines alone made my chest tighten. Justin didn't say anything, but I knew he saw them. I yanked the laptop toward me, slamming it shut. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, my breath coming faster. I tried to hold it in, but the tears came anyway, spilling down my cheeks. My face burned from the weight of them. I dropped my head, pressing my palms against my eyes, but it was useless. I felt broken. With the divider still removed, I barely registered Justin shifting closer until his arms wrapped around me. I sank into him without hesitation. He didn't say anything. He just held me. And somehow, that made me cry even harder.
The tears slowly faded and I finally lifted my head from his chest. Still covering my face with my hands, moved back over to my seat and fixed the blanket back over me. The blanket. I had no idea where this even came from. I laughed quietly to myself and looked over to Justin who was turned to me but on his phone, as if trying to not make it obvious he was watching me.
I cleared my throat quietly, "who's blanket is this?" I asked.
He looked up from his phone and a smile formed on his face. "Oh it's mine, I threw it over you when you were sleeping, it seemed like you were cold." he continued to smile softly.
This contrast from the Justin I know, to the Justin in front of me is immeasurable. If someone would've told me a week ago that Justin would be not only thoughtful but comforting, I would have laughed in their face. But it's true, he is all those things, at least for now.
"Thank you so… about what you saw-"
He cut me off, "you don't have to talk about it, it's okay."
I took a deep breath, I didn't have to talk about it but weirdly I wanted to. Whether the liquor or the fact that he knew just enough from the emails I started spilling it all to him.
"I think I want to talk about it." I met his eyes, hoping he'd understand. He did. He put his phone away completely and turned his body toward me, the center divider still out of the way. I turned my body completely to him, leaning on the window as I brought my knees to my chest. I inhaled and exhaled one more time.
"You know how my mom has cancer right?" I asked him.
"Yeah I remember you telling us a couple weeks ago." His expression is unreadable.
"Last night I found out she isn't actually sick, and…she never was…" I pressed my forehead to my knees, not wanting to see his reaction. Tears spilled once more.
"What do you mean?" He said quietly. Finally I looked up and wiped my tears quickly.
"I mean she lied about having cancer. She was never sick…she just wanted to…control me." I paused, taking a deep breath as he studied my face. "So she faked her entire illness to get me to come home from school. And now I don't even know what's real and what's not." A single tear fell down my cheek and I quickly wiped it away. I think he's seen me crying enough today.
"What about your dad? What did he say about it?" His face was filled with concern at this point.
"My dad died when I was four, so it's just been her and I ever since. I just feel like an idiot. I literally made infinite promises to God to please spare my mom, to save her, to take her illness from her and it was all in vain. And when I found out the truth... somehow, the aftermath felt even worse. The things she said to me… the way she feels about me. Just the most…" I stopped, a knot forming in my throat. My eyebrows pinched together. "The cruelest things a mother could ever say to her child. And the worst part? I don't even know what I did to deserve it. I've spent my entire life bending to her will, her beliefs, her wants, her needs. And still, it wasn't enough. I…wasn't…enough." This time I couldn't stop the tears. I let them fall and let everything go.
His brows pinched together, his expression unreadable at first. Like he was searching for the right thing to say but coming up empty. His lips parted, then pressed back together, and I could tell he was treading carefully.
"August… that's not just cruel. That's—" He exhaled slowly, shaking his head as if he couldn't quite wrap his mind around it. His gaze flickered to mine, holding it, steady but unsure.
Then, after a beat, he reached out. Hesitant at first, like he was giving me space to pull away if I wanted to. When I didn't, his fingers curled gently around mine, grounding me.
"You didn't deserve that," he said, quiet but firm.
The weight in my chest didn't disappear, but it shifted, just enough for me to take a full breath. He didn't try to fix it, didn't try to reason it away. He just stayed steady. And somehow, that was enough. We sat there quietly for a moment, his hands still in mine. Even at this moment I'm still processing my moms actions, her manipulation, her betrayal. I didn't want to continue dropping this all on him but the tightness in my chest persisted. I opened my mouth slightly but nothing would come out. I mustered enough courage to continue, maybe talking it out loud will help me understand it.
"I just don't even know how I didn't catch on. She was so believable, I would've never even considered it not being true. She just played the part so well. She looked like a cancer patient, went to doctor's appointments, even to a chemo clinic. I drove her…" And there it was—the clarity.. "I drove her but…she never let me go in. All this time, I thought it was because she was protecting me from her harsh reality but it was my reality that was harsh because of her. She didn't want to protect me, she wanted to control me. I thought I had freedom but…maybe I never did?" I searched his face like he had the answers.
"Maybe it was enough freedom to keep you from questioning." He said, his words sinking into me like a truth I had been avoiding, unraveling everything I thought I knew.
"My mom is a master manipulator, and I would've never caught on if she hadn't ingrained in me, 'Because that's what good daughters do.' I went to the pharmacy to pick up her medication, to help her out so she wouldn't worry while I was gone. Her words, used against me like venom, still leave me feeling like it's my fault. If I wouldn't have gone to the pharmacy I wouldn't be so…broken." I felt my own words cut through me like a knife.
He stared at me for a moment, caressing my knuckles with his thumb. "I think you're gonna feel like that for a long time, but just know in the end, this wasn't your fault. None of it was. You didn't deserve this. Believe me, I've been there too." He dropped his head, eyes softening as if he understood the depth of my pain.
It was then that I realized maybe he had felt this pain too. Maybe I wasn't so alone in this.
I opened my mouth to speak, but my words caught in my throat. I wasn't sure if I was ready to hear his truth, but I needed to. To understand him. To understand why he was sitting here with me, holding my hand when all this hurt seemed so unbearable.
"Your mom—" I began, but he cut me off before I could finish.
"My dad." His voice was quiet, and when he lifted his head, the hurt in his eyes caught me off guard. His pain wasn't hidden anymore. It was there, raw, unshielded, like an open wound staring back at me.
"I don't talk about it," he said, his words heavy, "not at all actually. But my dad… He was an awful human being. Absolute scum of the earth. He'd beat my mom and me senseless when I was growing up. For little things, for everything. We couldn't do anything right in his eyes. He was abusive, in every way you can think of."
His words hung in the air, and I could feel the weight of them, even though I wasn't sure how to respond. I didn't have to say anything. The way he looked at me made it clear that he understood. There was no need for me to fill the silence with my own confession. Still, I felt that pull in my chest, the kind that wanted to escape, even just for a moment.
Without thinking, my gaze shifted to his bag. His bottle of rum was still there, a small thing but enough to quiet the buzz in my mind.
There was unspoken communication as Justin noticed my gaze and shifted slightly. Dropping my hand as he began reaching for the bottle he'd hidden inside his bag. He cracked open the mini rum bottle and took a sip, then passed it to me without a word.
I didn't hesitate. I grabbed the bottle and finished it off in one quick swallow. The burn slid down my throat, not fixing anything, but offering a temporary distraction.
Justin gave me a look as I handed the empty bottle back, but he didn't say anything. The silence between us felt heavy, but not uncomfortable. We didn't need words to communicate; it was like our pain, though different, resonated in the same space.
I moved half the blanket over to him, offering what little comfort I could, and he let me. We sat there for a while, wrapped in the warmth, just staring at each other. It felt like the quiet was saying everything, but I could sense there was more beneath the surface, something he wasn't saying.
So, I pushed gently.
"I don't mean to pry, but... did your mom ever leave him?" I asked softly, watching his face for a reaction.
There was a flicker in his eyes, like he was deciding whether or not to answer. His mouth barely twitched at the corner before he shook his head slowly, the weight of the answer in his eyes more than his words ever could be.
My heart sank, the depth of the pain in that simple gesture hitting me harder than I expected. Without thinking, I reached for his hand. He let me, his fingers curling around mine, and I could feel the heaviness in his touch.
His gaze lowered, distant, like he was back there, reliving it. Finally, he spoke, his voice rough.
"He passed away before she got the chance to. I hate him. The day we tried to leave he beat my mom into a coma. And she never tried again. He still continues to haunt me even after all these years. At the party where Hailey ran out screaming about… me not being able to get it up. I couldn't because…" His voice cracks for a second, and I see the flash of pain in his eyes before he looks down, taking a deep breath.
He didn't need to finish the sentence. I knew exactly where he was going.
"That night, she was just a hookup. That was it," he continued after a pause, voice low. "But I couldn't even do that right. Couldn't even do something as simple as sleep with someone. And in that moment, I realized I was still letting my dad control me, even after all these years. His voice, his fists, his fucking presence, it was still there. I was too scared to even be with someone the way I wanted to, because every time I tried, I heard his voice in the back of my head telling me I wasn't enough. To him my mom wasn't enough. She got the brunt of his abuse and she tried to protect me as much as she could. She still hasn't forgiven herself for not being strong enough to leave, but I forgave her. Because it wasn't her fault, it was his. Just like it's not your fault, it's your moms." His eyes were heavy, trying not to meet mine. "I told you to believe me, I've been there too."
Despite the tears welling in both of our eyes, he cracked a smile. It broke my heart and warmed it all at once. A small tear left his eye, and he immediately wiped it away. And suddenly, my pain didn't feel so big, not because his was greater, but because in sharing it, I wasn't carrying it alone anymore.
Maybe that was the point of all of this. Maybe pain was never meant to be held in isolation. Because now, his pain wasn't just his, and mine wasn't just mine. It was ours. And somehow, that made it just a little easier to bear.
I slipped my hand out of his and crossed my arms, hugging myself.
"We're quite a pair, huh? Mommy issues and daddy issues galore," I said, sharing the smile he gave earlier.
He laughed softly, but his eyes held something deeper. He studied me for a long moment before speaking.
"You make a lot more sense to me now, August."
I raised an eyebrow, unsure of what he meant. "What's that supposed to mean?"
He tilted his head slightly, exhaling. "I guess I had this perception of you. I always thought you were the Mallory type, some rich kid who never had to fight for anything. You know, young, seemingly innocent, sometimes intelligent," he teased, a small smirk playing on his lips before it faded. "But there was always something else there. Something I couldn't put my finger on."
I held his gaze, waiting.
"My abuse was straight to the punch. Literally. But yours…" He shook his head slightly. "It was buried so deep, even from you. And I think that's why I would push you. Why I would get under your skin. Because even when I didn't understand it, I could feel it. You had this thing in you, this strength, and I think I always knew you could outdo me. And that scared the shit out of me."
"I always knew you were intimidated by me!" I squinted at him with a smile on my face causing him to laugh and break the intensity between us. We were offered more relief when Marissa showed up for lunch time.
"Hi you two, would you like lunch?" she smiled warmly.
"Yes please." I responded as Justin and I shifted back to our seats, pulling down our tray tables.
"Are either of you vegan or have allergies?" She asked as she was moving stuff on her cart.
"No" Justin and I answered in unison causing us to laugh a little.
She handed us a plate with the same silver cover as before. This time though the plate had grilled chicken with mixed vegetables and roasted potatoes. The smell of the food permeated the air around me, strangely making me feel at ease. Breaking some of the tension from our heavier conversation.
"What about to drink?" she glanced over at us.
"Do you have white wine?" I asked. Justin sharply turned his head to me, with a smile that showed intrigue. It was a look I was starting to recognize, like he was still piecing me together, still finding little things about me that didn't fit the version of me he once had in his head. And I liked that.
"I'll do the same." He said.
She dug into her cart and brought out two 8oz. Bottles of white wine and placed them in front of each of us, as well as two glasses.
"Enjoy! Let me know if you need more wine, I'll be back with dessert shortly." She smiled as she started walking up to the row in front of us.
"So why white wine?" Justin asked as we began to eat our food.
"Well it's chicken so white wine pairs well with chicken." I said very matter of factly. He turned to look at me with an eyebrow raised, like he was questioning my knowledge.
I smiled slightly as I cut my chicken into bite sized pieces. "I may or may not have done my research the other day, cause I anticipated being more of a wine drinker than a liquor drinker."
He dropped his fork and reached for my bottle of wine. "Let's find out!" He poured the wine into the glass about halfway and proceeded to open his and do the same. I waited as he finished pouring his. I grabbed my drink and raised it to his. "Cheers," echoed as our glasses clinked. I took a small sip, the sharp flavor of the wine coated my tongue but not like the other drinks did. I nodded my head softly as he waited for my reaction.
"Yeah I was right I like wine waaay more than hard liquor." I laughed quietly as I placed my glass down and continued cutting my chicken.
"You'll come around to vodka-crans, just you wait." he said teasingly.
We ate quietly for a moment, I enjoyed my wine and all the food was flavorful. I noticed Justin moving his food around his plate like he was either full or deep in thought. I got my answers within seconds.
"So uh I wanted to apologize about listening to your conversation with Erik at my house. I knew it was a dick move to listen but it was a bigger dick move to-"
"Loosely threaten me?" I joked.
"I didn't loosely threaten you, if you recall I promised to keep your secret safe and I did." he turned to look at me with a pleased smile plastered on his face.
I turned to look at him and smiled softly. "Well you half kept it, but I accept your apology." I turned back to my plate and continued eating.
"What do you mean half? I didn't tell anyone I swear!" He playfully defended himself.
I looked back at him sipping my wine now. "Well Hannah said that you told Dani that Erik and I were dating when she asked about us being at your party"
"I did no such thing! I said I thought you MIGHT be dating… Speaking of which, where did he end up taking you?"
"I guess its semantics then huh? But if you must know, he took me to an aquarium." I took another sip before setting it down and turning my body to be facing him more than my food.
His face bewildered and his eyebrows furrowed lightly. "An aquarium? What are you five?" he chuckled quietly.
"No! I mean he RENTED an aquarium out for our date, and it ended with a candlelit dinner in a private room surrounded by floor to ceiling windows with the fish swimming all around it was a near perfect date!" I softly exclaimed.
"Wow, I was right about him getting you double carats if you were to ask, wait, near perfect…" He looked at me puzzled, like he wanted to ask more but didn't want to pry.
"He took me home, he really drives a Maserati by the way, don't let that mustang fool you" I laughed but continued, "I'm kidding but he walked me to my door and that was it. He watched me walk inside and our date ended."
"First of all, I knew he was truly a show off, renting an aquarium, AND using the Maserati but then not even kissing you? Criminal, really." He finally started eating again.
"He's not a show off! He used to work there as a teen so he knows the owner and the Maserati was a gift from his parents. But yeah no kiss felt criminal, I looked sooo good too!" I rolled my eyes playfully, but a small pang of disappointment still lingered in my chest. "It just left me feeling more confused than anything, I thought he really liked me." I said quietly. I went for my wine but it was empty, Justin noticed and immediately poured the rest of his wine into my glass, giving me a subtle nod to drink it. He leaned back, eyes studying me with that familiar intensity, but his smile was softer than before.
"So, you're saying you did want the kiss, huh?" he asked, with a mix of playful teasing, but there was a hint of concern there too, like he was trying to figure out if this was something I needed to talk about or just move past.
I smiled faintly and took a sip of the wine he'd refilled. "I guess so. I mean, who doesn't want a kiss after a date like that?"
He gave a thoughtful pause, then smirked. "Well, maybe he's just dumb then." He shrugged, taking a small bite of food. "Because if it were me, and I rented an entire aquarium, I wouldn't have wasted a second." He winked and wiggled his eyebrows jokingly, which caused me to laugh a little louder than I had been.
"You're so dumb," I threw my head back laughing.
"Or hear me out, maybe he wanted to wait to kiss you in Hawaii, you know, build the intensity between you and then BAM, make out on the beach. Maybe he's not dumb, maybe he's a genius, and you'll be in a bikini, which makes it hotter. I need to take notes."
His playfulness was such a welcome change of pace. I found myself smiling more than I had in days, almost forgetting the lingering disappointment from Erik's date. Almost forgetting about my life being torn to shreds by my mom. This Justin, the one making me laugh and giving silly advice, felt like a complete shift from the one I used to know. The one who'd always shot me down at every turn was nowhere to be found, and instead, I found myself... comfortable around him.
I noticed it then, how different it felt. My shoulders were less tense, and my laughter wasn't forced. Justin wasn't the person I thought I had to keep a guard up around anymore. He was... just Justin, and I found myself enjoying the conversations with him. In fact, the teasing didn't bother me like it used to. It wasn't cruel or sharp, it was just... fun.
I laughed quietly, the sound more genuine than it had been in a long time. I guess Justin had that effect on me now.
"Okay, okay, I'll give him some credit," I said, still grinning. "But if he's waiting for me in a bikini, he's gonna be sorely disappointed."
"Yeah, well," Justin teased, leaning back in his seat with a soft chuckle, "it's his loss."
As I sipped my wine, I caught myself smiling at him a little longer than I meant to. Something about his ease, the way he wasn't trying so hard to impress or get under my skin, it was new, and I liked it.
We finished our lunch and continued talking, but I couldn't shake the feeling that, maybe, Justin wasn't the person I had thought him to be. He wasn't the smug asshole anymore. He was someone I could talk to. And, for once, I wasn't dreading the next word that might come out of his mouth.
The rest of the plane ride was easy. We slipped into casual conversation, moving from one topic to the next with a comfort I hadn't expected. I learned his favorite movie growing up was The Sandlot and how he swore he was going to play in the major leagues because of it. We bonded over our shared love for Oreos and sour candies, laughing a little more with each new drink we had. I was starting to feel the heavy buzz, the alcohol giving me a warm, light feeling that made everything feel easier. I couldn't wait to land, to feel the ocean breeze and leave the heaviness of the mainland behind. As we got closer to Maui I could see the turquoise blue waters I used to swim in daily when I lived here. The mountains are still the lush green that I remember them to be.
I looked over at Justin, who was scrolling through his phone, and nudged him. When he looked up, I pointed to the window, wanting him to see the view. He moved the divider up and pressed his body against mine. My heart skipped a beat, and I suddenly realized how close we were. His face was inches from mine as he leaned in to look outside, his warm breath brushing my skin.
For a split second, our eyes met, and something in the air shifted. Time slowed as I felt my breath catch. But just as quickly, he pulled back, and the space between us returned to normal. Still, the tension lingered, but I couldn't quite pinpoint it, not with the alcohol settling in, clouding my thoughts. He looked over at me and I looked at him, we shared a small smile and went back to what we were doing before the window incident. Like nothing ever happened.
As the plane began its descent, the Hawaiian air seeped through the cabin's vents, carrying with it the faint scent of saltwater and tropical flowers. I could almost hear the sound of the land beneath us, the waves crashing in the distance as we neared the island. It felt like the calm before the storm, the tension in the air between Justin and me still noticeable, but unspoken.
There was an understanding between us now, a shift in how we viewed one another, and maybe even in how we'd move through the rest of the trip. But I couldn't help but wonder: Would it really be that simple? The second we land and rejoin the others, would we slip back into the old roles we had with everyone else? Would I be okay with that? Part of me longed for the ease we'd found, and another part wasn't sure how to handle what came next.
Justin shot me a quick glance, and I could feel the weight of the quiet words and the shared moments between us, lingering like an unsaid agreement. He smirked and nudged me with his elbow.
"Ready for the chaos of the airport?"
I didn't respond immediately. My mind replayed everything we'd shared, each conversation, each laugh, and I realized I was nervous. Not about the trip, but about how things would change once we rejoined the others. With a small smile tugging at my lips, I nodded.
"Yeah, let's go."