Page 66 of My Lucky Star
“They have penguins?” Cem’s eyes shone with adoration.
“You like penguins?”
“Who doesn’t like penguins? I thought it was fish swimming around in tanks.”
“You don’t like fish?”
Cem’s thick eyelashes caught the warm evening light. I couldn’t tell if he was smiling. “Fish are fine, but I prefer penguins. They mate for life.”
For once, I felt grateful for the mask covering my hanging mouth. I forced my lips to meet, to stop any snide remarks from escaping. I’d seen his dating history – a series of casual hook-ups. He hadn’t been seen with any woman more than once since Burcu.
“Penguins are better than people,” I finally concluded. Better than either of us, probably.
My stomach plummeted as the plane gathered speed, rattling along the runway.
Cem leaned closer, raising his voice just enough to be heard over the engines. “I want that.”
“What? Penguins?”
“No. Something... someone... for life.”
“Aha.”
“You don’t believe me, but I do.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’ll show you,” he finally said.
The plane lifted off the runway. We were airborne.
He glanced at my fidgeting fingers. “Are you scared of flying?”
I couldn’t help it. I’d applied two coats of clear polish in the morning, and now desperately tried to stick to only peeling off nail polish so I wouldn’t rip off my actual nails. A problem I knew Burcu didn’t have. At least on TV, her nails had shined in glossy perfection. I always noticed other people’s nails.
“No. I’m fine with flying. I’m just nervous about all this. I’m scared I’ll disappoint you. And Emir. Everyone. I feel like I’m not... qualified for this.”
“It’s not a job. We’re friends, remember? You’re helping me.”
“But you’re paying for everything. You’reinvestingin this. What if you don’t get what you want?”
Cem stared out the window at the vast whiteness of the clouds we were pushing through. “I don’t always get what I want.” He turned to look at me, holding still like he wanted to say more. Or maybe he was just thinking.
“I didn’t say you do.”
We emerged from the clouds and into the blue-to-orange gradient sky, the evening sun streaming through the window. Flying to Los Angeles, we’d be travelling away from the sunset.
Cem turned to meet my gaze. “I can handle disappointment. I can give up things... I haven’t smoked in nearly two weeks.”
“You smoke?” An odd mix of disgust and relief filled me. I couldn’t stand the smell of cigarettes, especially on someone’s breath, and had never dated a smoker. If he smoked, it would be easier not to fall for him.
“No. I’m not a smoker anymore. I read it’s best to affirm the new identity. So... I used to smoke.”
“Does your family smoke?”
“Yeah.”
“Is that going to be hard?” My voice came out almost excited. If he lapsed on arrival, it would be so easy to stay away from him. That smell of rotting flesh that secreted from every pore of a smoker after they returned from a cigarette break... I’d experienced it enough times to know how it turned my stomach. I’d be free of my stupid crush and wouldn’t get my heart broken. The blessed little cancer sticks would save me.
