Page 165 of The Waiting Game

Felix’s jaw was tight. “I know you don’t want me here right now but I’m going to be here for you whether you like it or not.”

“I don’t want to talk right now,” Jonah said tightly. “I—we’ll talk later, okay? But right now I can’t.”

Felix pulled his book out. “Who said anything about talking?” And proceeded to stare intently at the pages like Jonah didn’t exist.

Jonah just blinked at him.

But he didn’t have much time for confusion as the small flight crew prepared for takeoff.

When the plane taxied down the runway, Jonah closed his eyes and gripped the armrests of the seat.

His grandmother was going to be okay.

But they’d lost the game. Lost the series. Lost their shot at the Cup this year.

Jonah tried to tell himself it wasn’t all him. He wasn’t the only one who’d played poorly. But he’d made it so much worse.

God, how could he be so fucking stupid?

And worst of all, had he lost Felix? He’d said he wanted to be here for Jonah but … but how did he mean that?

Jonah glanced over at Felix. His face was mostly in shadow, the cabin lights dim except for the one that shone down on his book. He appeared to be reading calmly.

He looked unbothered, like it was any other game. Like he wasn’t worried about the fight he and Jonah’d had. Like he wasn’t worried about Grandma Ji-min.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t upset. Felix had always cloaked himself in that layer of perfect, unruffled calm when there was deep pain lurking beneath.

Jonah wanted to reach out and touch Felix but why would he want anything to do with Jonah right now? He must be so disappointed in him.

Hurt by the way Jonah had pushed him away. And God, Jonah didn’t trust himself not to fuck it up more.

The plane was nearly silent tonight.

Everyone was either quietly doing something on their phone or tablet or talking softly to their seatmates. There were no whoops of excited card players, no trash talking across the aisles as guys played video games.

Jonah leaned his head against the bulkhead, closing his eyes, trying to will himself to at least doze a little. He was in a strange state between sleep and waking when the plane trembled with a sudden gust of turbulence.

Jonah’s stomach lurched and he glanced out the window. He caught a glimpse of lightning flickering in the clouds, winced, and lowered the shade.

About ten minutes later, the intercom crackled to life. “This is your pilot speaking. Due to the storms, we may be experiencing a bit of turbulence. We’re going to take the plane to a slightly higher altitude to see if that helps even things out.”

But despite the pilot’s best efforts it was a bumpy flight.

When the plane shuddered again, Nico’s purple water bottle tumbled into the aisle with a metallic clang and rolled toward them.

Jonah’s stomach tumbled to his feet and he closed his eyes, praying for strength, repeating the mantra that he always used whenever he had to fly.

Every day, millions of people fly around the world safely. Every day, millions of people fly around the world safely. Every day—

He felt a nudge against his forearm and glanced over to see Felix sitting with his hand out, palm up.

Jonah stared at it blankly.

The airplane made another horrifying lurch and Jonah slammed his eyes closed, blindly reaching for Felix’s hand.

The warm press of his palm was comforting, the touch familiar. Jonah sucked in a deep breath and then another, the anchor of Felix’s touch the only thing keeping him from a panic attack.

He was exhausted, his nerves frayed.

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