Chapter 2 — Turbulence Within and Without
Jason Calloway
Jason gritted his teeth as the plane shuddered again, the turbulence rattling the tray table in front of him. The seatbelt sign blinked insistently above, casting an irritating glow that seemed to intensify the pounding in his temples. Beside him, Claire leaned back in her seat, one leg tucked beneath her, completely unfazed by the unsettling jolts. She tilted her head slightly, humming under her breath, as though the chaos around them was nothing more than background noise.
The laptop perched on Jason’s tray table displayed a spreadsheet filled with critical notes about his firm’s misdeeds—a damning mosaic of dates, transactions, and correspondence. He’d planned to spend the flight meticulously organizing the data, but the turbulence turned every keystroke into a gamble. It didn’t help that Claire radiated an insistent, carefree energy that grated against his fraying nerves. Every bump the plane encountered felt like a personal affront to his need for control.
“Relax, Mr. Business Class,” Claire said, shooting him a lopsided grin as she caught sight of his white-knuckled grip on the armrest. “Planes are built for this stuff. It’s like a bad road trip, except higher up and with fewer snack stops.”
Jason shifted his glare to her, irritation sharpening his features. “I wasn’t asking for a travel analogy, thank you.”
She shrugged, unbothered, and returned to her notebook. Jason caught a glimpse of her doodling in the corner—a cartoonish sketch of the plane with exaggerated swooping lines. A stick figure, presumably him, was scribbled near the window, clutching the armrests in terror with the words, “Why me?” scrawled in a speech bubble. He clenched his jaw and returned his attention to his screen, though the spreadsheet that had once commanded his focus now blurred into a meaningless collection of cells.
The plane lurched harder this time, the movement so sudden that it sent a ripple of gasps through the cabin. Claire’s drink—a syrupy orange soda—wobbled on her tray. Jason’s eyes darted to his laptop, his chest tightening as he reached out instinctively to move it. Before his hand could reach the keyboard, the plane jolted violently, and the cup tipped, its contents cascading directly onto the keys.
A sharp intake of breath caught in Jason’s throat as he stared in horror at the spill. The orange liquid seeped into the crevices of the keyboard, spreading out in sticky waves. His mind blanked, then sprinted in a dozen directions at once: the data, the evidence, the hours of work—all of it at risk of slipping away because of one careless moment.
“Oh my God!” Claire exclaimed, snatching a handful of napkins from her tray. “I’m so sorry! Let me—”
“Don’t touch it!” Jason’s voice came out sharper than he intended as he swatted her hand away. He tilted the laptop sideways in a desperate attempt to salvage it, but the keys squelched ominously beneath his touch. His heart pounded as he mentally inventoried what had and hadn’t been backed up, the implications of any loss crashing over him like the turbulence outside.
Claire flinched at his tone but didn’t retreat. “I was trying to help, okay? It’s not like I poured my drink on your laptop on purpose.”
Jason glared at her, anger mingling with the cold edge of panic. He wanted to shout, to demand how she could be so careless, but the words felt knotted in his throat. Instead, he grabbed another napkin and dabbed at the keyboard. It was a futile effort—the damage was likely already done—and the helplessness of the situation only made his frustration burn brighter.
“You’ve already done enough,” he said curtly, his voice low and tight. He could feel Claire’s gaze on him, her expression shifting from apologetic to something harder, but he didn’t look up. He couldn’t. The thought of confronting her right now—or anyone, for that matter—was more than he could manage.
“Well, excuse me for trying to lighten the mood,” Claire shot back, crossing her arms. “You’ve been sitting there glaring at your screen like it personally offended you. Maybe if you weren’t so tightly wound, things like this wouldn’t send you into orbit.”
Jason’s head snapped up, her words slicing through his thin veneer of control. “Not everything is a joke, Claire,” he snapped. “Some of us actually have responsibilities—things that matter.”
Her expression froze, and for the first time since they’d met, her playful mask cracked. The hurt in her eyes was fleeting, quickly replaced by steely resolve. “Right,” she said quietly, her tone tinged with sarcasm. “Because running a blog and building a career from scratch doesn’t count as ‘things that matter.’”
Jason opened his mouth to retort, but the words faltered. He hadn’t meant to diminish her work, but his frustration had spilled over, leaving jagged edges that he couldn’t smooth out. Before he could decide how to respond, the plane dipped sharply again, sending a jolt through the cabin. The overhead compartments rattled, and a few unsecured items clattered to the floor. Jason’s stomach flipped, and his hands instinctively tightened around the armrests.
When the plane steadied, Claire let out a shaky laugh. “Okay, I take it back. Maybe this is a little more than a bad road trip.”
Jason didn’t respond. His chest still heaved with anger and adrenaline, but something about the vulnerability in her voice tugged at him. He sneaked a glance at her, catching the faintest trace of unease in her posture—just enough to make him wonder if he’d misread her earlier levity.
The intercom crackled, and the flight attendant’s voice came through, calm but tinged with urgency. “Ladies and gentlemen, the captain has informed us of a minor technical issue. As a precaution, we’ll be diverting to Marrakesh for an unscheduled landing. Please remain seated and keep your seatbelts securely fastened.”
Jason barely registered the announcement, his focus still locked on the laptop in his hands. The crackling intercom faded into the murmurs of passengers, the occasional gasp cutting through as the plane began its descent.
Claire tilted her head toward the window, watching the landscape outside come into view. Her face softened, her earlier defensiveness giving way to something more introspective. “You know,” she said, her tone quieter now, “maybe this is a sign.”
Jason raised an eyebrow. “A sign of what?”
She shrugged, the corner of her mouth quirking upward. “That you could use a little chaos in your life. You know, shake things up, live a little.”
Jason snorted, though there was no humor in the sound. “I think I’ve had enough chaos for one day, thanks.”
Claire’s smile widened, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Well, you’re in luck. Marrakesh is the perfect place for that. Trust me—you’re going to love it.”
Swallowing a sigh, Jason turned back to his laptop. The idea of navigating the maze-like streets and sensory overload of Marrakesh was enough to give him a headache. And yet, as the plane touched down with a jarring thud, a flicker of something unfamiliar stirred beneath his irritation: curiosity, perhaps, or maybe resignation. Either way, he couldn’t deny that chaos was coming—whether he liked it or not.
The cabin erupted into the usual shuffle of passengers retrieving their belongings, the air thick with overlapping voices. Jason carefully packed away his damp laptop, his mind already racing through contingency plans to recover his data. He’d figure it out. He always did.
As they stepped off the plane and into the warm, dry air of Marrakesh, Jason glanced at Claire out of the corner of his eye. She was craning her neck, her expression alight with curiosity as she took in the bustling tarmac. For a moment, he envied her ability to embrace the unknown so easily.
“Ready for your fresh start?” she asked, her voice light but laced with something deeper.
Jason hesitated, the usual quick retort eluding him. The question lingered in the air between them as they headed toward the terminal, the weight of it pressing down harder than he cared to admit. Was he ready? He wasn’t sure. But one thing was certain: Marrakesh was about to test him in ways he hadn’t anticipated.
