Young Love

It was a good infight movie, my headset was working fine, and the meal was moderately tasty and adequate in portion. Flight was relatively turbulence-free, no annoying passengers kicking me in the back. So far this was a smooth and uneventful journey.

Earlier I was a bit miffed that the 2 seats to my left were taken by two teenage girls, complete with tinted hair, black fishnets and puffy skirts, giggling and gasping as they were the last to board the plane. But they were polite, asked for my pardon as they made their way past me, and were quietly nodding off while I was eating.

The movie was over, and passengers started to stir and stretch. Food trays were cleared away, tray tables were folded up. I sense movement next to me, I automatically make some elbow room by moving my arm inside the armrest. I needn't have bothered.

She turned towards her friend, and put he right arm around the other’s shoulders. Her left arm was snuggled deep somewhere between the other’s knees.

The other girl stirred, and her pink head was tucked under my neighbour’s chin. Four stockinged legs twined around each other, the airline blanket askew while their arms wound around each other. I sneaked a peek, expecting their lips to be touching.

And indeed they were. Tender kisses on the pierced eyebrow, whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears. She giggled lightly, then she shushed her. I catch bits and pieces of it..

What’s your first class tomorrow?

I don’t remember – doesn’t matter, I’ll skip it.

Did you sms your mother that you’re on way back? Just in case she forgets to iron your uniform.

Of course I did, did you?

I’m going to school naked!

(Giggles and hushed whispers)

The captain's anouncement about landing approach alerted them to the need to disentangle. They buckled up and sat quietly as my ears popped. All was hushed, they were serene in each other's company.

Shoulders barely touching, heads tilted just that little bit towards each other. Teenage coltish knees within a whisper of a contact. Her right hand was holding her left hand, fingers clasping with no overt passion but an incredible gentleness. The girlish fingers were slowly rubbing the other hand, and the two lovers quietly enjoyed their homecoming together.

A tender, touching, yet strangely surreal tableau.

Travel experience # 274: Spending three and a half hours next to teenage lesbians.