“Becs, are you, like, okay?”
Beca heard Chloe’s voice from somewhere outside the world she was currently paralyzed in, and when she blinked through the haze of panic, Chloe’s features slowly became clearer until Beca found herself latching onto the dark blue speckles in her eyes to stay grounded.
She tried to speak, tried to respond in some way to the worry on Chloe’s face, but when she opened her mouth, all that came out was a croak. She swallowed, shaking her head and trying again. “Yeah, no, totally fine. Nothing to see here,” she said, fiddling with the seams of the seatbelt and letting out of quick breath of air to reward herself for getting the sentence out in a semi-convincing manner.
She forgot, however, how her tendency to word vomit was nearly as strong as Aubrey’s tendency to actually vomit. So the breath she exhaled quickly became a nervous mumble.
“Just, like, a girl sitting on a flying metal death-trap who’s not thinking at all about the fact that she’s about to fly over hundreds of miles of ocean, where, were the plane to crash, they could disappear completely without a trace.” When she paused, she realized what she’d said, coughing and sending a shaking hand to scratch at the edge of her temple. “But, like,” puffing out her cheeks to breathe out casually, Beca glanced up at the ‘fasten seatbelt’ sign, “Nothing to see here.”