Takeoffs and Landings Read Free Page B

Then you and Chuck can switch the next time, so he gets a turn.”
    Chuck had no intention of switching. He wondered if Gram and Pop were right—that being away from Pickford County so much had made Mom lose a lot of common sense. How could takeoffs and landings be the best parts, when those were the times you were most likely to die?
    Chuck eased into his seat. The side of his leg hung over onto Mom’s seat. She scooted a little closer to Lori. She was just making room for him, but Chuck felt a stab of self-pity. Here I am, about to die, and my own mother is trying to get away from me.
    Why should she be any different from anyone else?

Lori decided she was going to read a magazine during both takeoff and landing. That would show Mom: the last thing Lori cared about right now was scenery out some tiny window. She just couldn’t face this trip. The world of Seventeen , where everyone had good tans and clear skin and perfect clothes, was her only escape.
    But somehow, when the engine began to rumble, and the pilot said in his clipped, official-sounding voice, “Cabin crew, prepare for takeoff,” she couldn’t help sneaking peeks out the window, just to see what was going on. The pilot revved the engine and then floored it, just like Dan Stephens drag racing on Cuthbert Road. Men—they were all the same, right?
    But there was something exhilarating about zooming along the runway, faster, faster, faster. . . . Lori felt herself straining forward, wanting to leave the groundbehind. Maybe there was something wrong, and they’d never take off. The engine did sound terrible. But then there was a bump, and the concrete of the runway fell away. Lori heard the wheels of the plane being folded up into the plane’s belly, beneath them. It made Lori giddy to think of not needing wheels to move fast. Hey! Look at me! I’m flying!
    In seconds, they were higher than the roof of the airport. Trees, houses, highways—everything receded beneath them. Nothing looked the same from the air. Lori stared at a blue kidney bean-shaped spot on the ground until it was out of sight, and only then did she realize that it had been someone’s backyard swimming pool.
    â€œGreat, huh?” Mom said beside her.
    Lori turned her gaze back to her magazine.
    â€œIt’s okay.”
    Mom didn’t say anything else, and Lori let herself look out the window again after a few minutes. They were in the clouds now. Lori remembered the question that she’d imagined Emma asking: Do the clouds really look like cotton balls? And they did. It was amazing. The clouds looked just like the cotton batting that her great-grandmother rolled out for quilting.
    Lori wanted to tell someone about that idea, but if her choices were just Mom and Chuck, she’d take a pass. Mom would say something like, Didn’t I tell you you’d like this? That would ruin everything.
    Lori glanced quickly over at Chuck in his aisle seat.Maybe he’d tell Mom what she wanted to hear: how incredible this flight was, how wonderful she was to share it with them. But Chuck had his head back and his eyes shut. His face was pale, making the scattering of pimples stand out more than ever. Pathetic.
    Nothing new there.
    Lori groaned soundlessly. Two weeks of nobody but Mom and Chuck. How would she survive?

Chuck was going to throw up.
    He kept his eyes closed—did he honestly believe that what he couldn’t see couldn’t hurt him? But not being able to see just let him focus more on his stomach. He felt like the five pancakes he’d eaten had expanded, grown arms and legs, declared war on one another. He felt a retch pushing its way up his throat, and he swallowed hard.
    Was this how he’d spend his last moments of life? It figured.
    They were taking off. He could tell, the way the plane lurched forward. Some force pushed him back against his seat, like on an amusement park ride. He fought back the urge to