“Translation.” I sat up in my seat as I decoded their childish conversation. “Wyatt, what Ethan means is I’m glad you chose to save money and fly with us. Ethan, Wyatt said, of course, seeing as he inherited the jet he’d use it from time to time. Thank you for taking care of it for me.”
Both of their eyes shifted to me, to which I smiled. “Please don’t stop on my account. I think I’m good at this.”
I wanted to laugh outright when they both rolled their eyes at the exact time and went back to what they were doing. Since they wouldn’t talk to me, I leaned over the arm of my chair at the men sitting in front of us. There were three of them, Greyson I knew, and Lex, I believe, the man who’d been in the car when we rushed to the hospital, and one tall, slim man who wore a golf hat and had a toothpick in his mouth.
“Pssst.” I tried to get their attention, but none of them noticed. Instead, Ethan and Wyatt both glanced at me. Ignoring them as they did me, I took one of the sheets in front of me, folded it into a triangle and then flicked perfectly, knocking the toothpick out of his mouth. “Touchdown!”
“Does she have the mental capacity to consent to marriage?” Wyatt frowned, looking over at Ethan.
“Whether she does or not is no concern of yours,” he said, reaching for his scotch as he went back to reading.
“Wowwww. You’re both assholes.” I frowned, looking between them. “Coming from you, Wyatt, the guy who chooses to piss his brother off because he’d rather fight than sit in silence and pretend he doesn’t care, you insulting my maturity is funny. And you, Ethan, I’m a little hurt. What happened to treating me the way you were taught to treat a lady? I guess it only counts when you’re fucking me.”
Wyatt’s mouth dropped open.
Ethan coughed, choking on his drink.
“Hey, guys?” I waved at the men, trying very hard not to laugh. “How much longer until we land?”
“Another half hour, ma’am.” Greyson checked his watch.
Groaning, I rested back into the tan leather seat. “I’m not sure how much longer we can remain in a metal box at 41,298 feet without someone dying.”
“Uh, 41,298 is a little specific, isn’t it?” Lex asked.
Checking out the window for a second and then sitting back, I shook my head. “No. That should be right considering when we took off and how much longer we have to go.”
They all just stared at me.
“You’re shitting us, ma’am,” Mr. Toothpick said, pulling out the toothpick from his mouth and leaning over the chair to get a better look at me.
Now I was annoyed. “I really fucking hate it when people think I’m kidding when I’m being serious. It feels like you’re calling me stupid. Are you calling me stupid?”
Before he could reply or beg for forgiveness Ethan pressed the call button next to his chair.
“Sir?” A voice came over the intercom.
“What’s our current altitude?” Ethan asked, his eyes trained on me as well.
“It’s 41,298 feet, sir.”
“Thank you!” I threw my hands up.
“Holy shit,” Wyatt muttered under his breath.
“Sir?” the pilot called.
“It’s fine,” Ethan said, releasing the button.
I smugly nodded at him. “You’re all just like Ms. Lisowski.”
Ethan shook his head. “Should I even ask?”
“Ms. Lisowski was a fourth grade teacher at my school.” I went on as if he hadn’t spoken. “However, the fourth grade teacher I was assigned to told her I was smart and so I should be in her class. Ms. Lisowski took one look at me and laughed, saying I wouldn’t fit in with her class.”
“Until you stunned them all with your brilliance?” Ethan added, and I could feel the dry sarcasm rolling off him in waves.
“No. Though that is how the story should have ended. Instead, Ms. Lisowski never spoke to me again until she substituted for my teacher during test day. I finished early, like I usually did, and went to sleep, like I was allowed to, only to be woken up by her ruler on my head. She didn’t believe I’d finished so quickly and when I showed to her, and got everything right, she still didn’t believe. She said I must have cheated and made me sit in the corner with this sign that said God doesn’t like cheaters.”
Wyatt laughed.
“Not funny!” I grabbed one of the papers on the table and threw it at his head.
“Did she put a cone on your head too?” he joked.
“No.” I pouted, though I was sure if there had been one she would have. I turned to Ethan, who listened, though looking bored. “Anyway, she told me I’d have to sit there every day for the whole week until I admitted to cheating. I kept telling her I didn’t cheat and on the third day one of the boys threw glue at me.”
Wyatt stopped laughing at that. The smile on his face slowly faded.
But mine didn’t. “It got all over the shirt my mom had bought for me, so I came out of the corner and picked up my chair and threw it at him.”
Ethan snickered. “I’m guessing that didn’t make school any easier for you.”
I shrugged. “Ms. Lisowski said I was a wild animal that would end up pregnant, living in a trailer park, eating out of plastic plates for the rest of my life since I couldn’t act like or look like a lady. I told her she didn’t look like a lady either because she had a mustache. All the kids started laughing at her then. We called her Ms. Whiskers.”
“I don’t know who to feel bad for anymore,” Wyatt muttered.
“Me!” Did he even really have to ask? “She is the one who judged, humiliated, skipped school almost every day…can we put her on the list?” I looked at Ethan eagerly, sitting up.
“Let me get this straight.” He sat up as well. “You want to add your fourth grade teacher, who is most likely an old woman at this point, to the list of people you want revenge on?”
I didn’t like how he said it or the hypercritical high horse he was sitting on. “Yes, does it make me sound petty?”
“Very,” both Ethan and Wyatt agreed.
Look at them. They were now ganging up on me.
“Excuse me. I was traumatized, thank you,” I said, placing my hand over my heart. “I had no friends, was already being teased. In fact, I barely blocked out most of childhood because it was so bad. She could have made me retake the test, but noooooo she had to be like everyone else and make my life hell.” I crossed my arms.
“As you wish,” Ethan answered, and I cheered, trying to think of anyone else.
“Wowww.” Wyatt stretched out just like I had done. “You both have no shame.”
“Screw shame,” Ethan and I both said. And when we did both of us locked eyes for a moment. Reaching over to Ethan’s work, I grabbed another piece of paper, but he grabbed my wrist.
“You do realize this isn’t for paper football, right?”
I nodded. “It’s information about Boston, and the big wigs in town. You’ve already read and memorized them, firstly, and secondly, half of this shit is wrong. You should shoot the person who got it for you ’cause they’re shitty at intel gathering.”
“Bye-bye, Hugh.” Wyatt waved behind him and all eyes were on Mr. Toothpick.
“Oops.” I didn’t really think that person was on the jet. What was worse was how terrified he was, now staring at Ethan’s back. Ethan cracked his jaw to the side, gripping on tightly to the glass in his hand.