3B and 3C

Hannah turned up the volume on her headphones to drown out the complaints of the man in front of her, but unfortunately, there was no escaping him. Apparently, an issue of urgent consumer rights was at stake.

Rolling her eyes at no one in particular, Hannah took her book out and resumed reading. The flight was a long one - well over seven hours - and she had already spent two hours getting to JFK, getting through security, and waiting to board. Now this barking ham of a man was all that stood between her and a huge nap. This could take a while.

Finally, after employees calmed the man down with promises of finding him a new seat, the line started moving again, and Hannah scowled at the notion of such an unpleasant man being rewarded for such obnoxious behavior. With her luck, he was probably her seat mate.

They boarded, and as they passed the calm and relaxed passengers in first class, Hannah looked enviously at the cabin’s appointments. Wide leather chairs, cocktails in actual cocktail glasses, smiling flight attendants, and wow…

Check out the tan guy in 3B. He looked up just as she noticed him and, in that moment, when their eyes met, she had mentally planned their wedding, their lives, their children’s names…

“Excuse me.” The lady behind her nudged. Hannah was holding up the line.

Tan guy gave her a smirk and returned to his phone.

Lucky bastard. He would get six hours in isolated bliss. And there wasn’t even a passenger in the seat next to him. She trudged back to her seat in 39A amidst the huddled masses.

Oh good. Barking Ham was in 39B.

“God damn piece of cheap ass garbage…” he muttered to himself. She wasn’t too familiar with regional American accents, but he must have hailed from the state of entitlement.

A flight attendant approached.

“Oh, thank God, you’re here. I’m going to need a beer, and some peanuts ASAP.” The Ham barely looked at the woman, whose well-practiced smile was beginning to flag.

“Well? Chop chop!”

Hannah winced and looked apologetically at the flight attendant, who looked at her and smiled.

“Miss?” the woman said impishly.

Puzzled, she looked up. “Yes?”

“Will you please come with me? And you’ll need to bring your bag.”

Barking Ham was not pleased about having to get up again, having just shoehorned himself into his seat, but he let her out, and once they were out of range, the attendant leaned in to speak softly to her.

“We are relocating you. I hope you don’t mind. He’s making such a scene that we thought it would be best to let him have the two seats.”

“Uh… ok. Am I being put on another flight?” she asked, warily.

“Oh no! There’s an opening in first class.”

Hell yeah.

She followed the attendant, strutting down the aisle like a supermodel during fashion week, and as they walked through the curtain separating the cabins - wait, was that the smell of freshly baked cookies? - Hannah realized she was getting the seat next to hot tan guy. At first, she nearly fist-pumped. Then she felt a mild panic.

“Thank you for your flexibility,” the attendant said. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Erm… sure, coffee?” she answered.

“Espresso? Latte? Americano?” the woman asked.

Her seat mate looked in her direction, his dark eyes again catching hers. Flustered, she replied “Surprise me.”

He smiled, sensing her nervousness.

“Bit late for coffee, no?” he asked her, after the woman disappeared into the galley. His voice was deep and soothing, like the voiceover in a car commercial.

“Oh, I can’t help myself. I love coffee,” she smiled shyly.

“But since this is a red eye flight, won't coffee prevent you from sleeping?” he cocked his head to one side and gave a bemused smile.

“Caffeine doesn’t usually stop me from sleeping, if I’m tired enough.” She returned his cheeky expression, and snuck in a glance at the rest of him. Not a business traveler. Looked like was returning from holiday. Probably not much older than herself. She caught a glimpse of his bag, which bore a patch - London School of Economics. A student, just like herself.

The attendant returned with her espresso, and Hannah settled into her seat, completely delighted to have escaped the misery of economy.

“Are you coming or going?” the man asked.

She looked up, a bit confused and then realized what he meant. “Oh, I’m headed home. You?”

“I am too.” For a moment, the intenseness of his gaze made her blink quickly and look away, hoping she wasn’t blushing.

She was, and it was cute.

“I’m Richard,” he leaned in.

“Hannah.” His smile was impossible to resist, and she smiled back. “You look like you just came back from vacation.”

“I’m coming back from Antigua. I was just at a friend’s wedding.”

“Oh, wow, that’s a long way to go for a wedding.”

“She was a close family friend. I couldn’t miss it.”

It wasn’t like Richard to talk to his seat mate on a flight, but after a week spent 24/7 with his family at tedious wedding events, he was finally on his own. No one knew him or had any expectations of him, and it was liberating. He was positively chatty.

“So, what brought you to New York?” he asked Hannah.

“I had interviews,” she answered.

“What type of job are you interviewing for?”

It had not occurred to her that most people would assume she was interviewing for a job.

“Actually, it’s for a scholarship.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“Wow, impressive.” She must be a graduate student like himself, Richard surmised. “And may I ask what you are studying?”

“Public policy and philosophy,” she answered, again self-conscious at revealing her academic identity to a man who looked more like an actor than a student. She hoped he wouldn’t ask her about how the two fields were connected as she knew most people don't have the capacity or interest to speak about philosophy.

“Really?” he said with shock. “I’m in economics and philosophy. I rarely ever meet anyone who studies philosophy let alone a double concentration with another field.”

“That’s a major at LSE? I’m surprised,” Hannah answered.

He smirked. “How did you know I’m at LSE?”

Hannah blushed. “Um...I saw your bag,” she admitted.

He laughed, and realizing he was flirting heavily, he looked away.

They got to talking about their programs and studies, but soon it quickly pivoted to Richard’s family and the assorted adventures he had just experienced in Antigua - scuba diving, ziplining, sailing. Hannah was jealous and enthralled.

In truth, they weren’t as fun as he had hoped. His family was not as adventurous as he was. But Hannah didn’t need to know these things. Not that he felt obliged to lie or impress his seat mate on a flight. After all, she was a fellow student like him. But for some reason, he wanted her to be impressed. Specifically, by him.

Richard barely noticed anything happening on the plane. All he noticed was Hannah’s expressive eyes, her genuine smile, and above all, her attentiveness. So, he kept talking. He kept thinking of new things he wanted to ask her about, and more stories to make her laugh.

And he did. Hannah was in stitches, until the man in front of her asked them to keep it down.

Embarrassed, they looked at each other and snickered.

At that moment, the flight attendant arrived to take their dinner orders. Hannah didn’t realize first class had multiple courses with multiple choices. She chose prawns and the guinea fowl, with a glass of sauvignon blanc. Richard had the meze plate, the short rib, and a merlot. The flight attendant served brought their wines first.

“I don’t think my last date was this nice,” Hannah quipped. "I feel so indulgent."

“I should hope so for the price of a first-class ticket,” Richard replied.

“That makes me feel like an imposter since I was upgraded.”

“Right, what happened there? I saw you go by and then suddenly you were back. Did I scare you off?” he gave her a lopsided smile.

She laughed, again feeling her face redden.

“My ticket is for 39A, but the man next to me was throwing such a tantrum they moved me so he could have both seats.”

Richard scoffed. “Oh, that arsehole. So glad he wasn’t the one who got upgraded.”

“Yes, you definitely should be thankful because he has a very, uh, pungent bouquet.”

Richard grimaced.

“In that case, Hannah,” he said with exaggerated humility, “I thank you for your service.”

He raised his glass across the gap, and she returned his toast, just as the meal was being served.

“May I join you for dinner?” he asked.

She laughed. “I don’t think you have much of a choice!”

He smirked. “So, it’s a date?”

She laughed. “Sure.”

“Oh, good. I wasn’t sure if there was an in-flight movie you’d rather watch.”

She smiled and shrugged. “Meh, I know how all those stories end.”

They chatted all through dinner, and then through another glass of wine, and then coffee and dessert.

In the blink of a dark, seductive brown eye, they were already halfway through the flight.

They talked of philosophy, books, music, family, pets. Finally, they realized the rest of the cabin was dark, with the blue ceiling lights casting a dreamy hue on them. Theirs were the only overhead lights still on. The other first-class passengers were all asleep.

Richard leaned in closer to Hannah, so they were now talking barely above a whisper. Richard noticed Hannah’s eyes were blinking slower, her eyelids closing, and her head was nodding. She was beautiful, and the pout of her full lips only endeared him to her. He called for a blanket and draped it over her as she slept, turned out the lights and returned to his seat.

“Goodnight, Hannah," he whispered. "See you in a couple hours.”

She heard him, but she was already too close to sleep to answer.

“By the way, I'm having a great time.”