Planes are…fine.

Lou doesn’t love them. She isn’t afraid of heights. They are just confining without any fresh air. But they are temporary. They get you to a different place far away. So they are acceptable. As long as the place they touch down in has a lot of animals.

Another reason to not like them is because that her animal friends can’t come on the plane. She usually doesn’t get to bring them on vacations or trips. She begs her parents, practically on her knees. They’ve learned to not budge.

Ajax isn’t a service animal, though she wishes he was so that he could be with her all the time. She managed to convince her animal friends to not tag along (especially Greg) because of getting them food and having the time to care for them. She is thankful that Jones agreed to take care of them while she and her family were gone.

People are weird. There’s the awkward small talk and expectation to talk, depending on who you are next to. Actually, maybe Lou doesn’t like planes now that she’s listing the reasons.

Her parents really wanted to go on this trip to New York. They met there by chance and wanted to not only narrate the story to her and her brother but have them live it. She dreads it because there won’t be many wild creatures there. Big cities aren’t her favorite. They’re cold. Sterile. Dirty. Not very natural.

“I don’t know how you packed everything into a carry on backpack, Ladybug,” Fen, her brother, comments, lugging a suitcase that Lou doesn’t know how it counts as a carry on and a humongous backpack. The nickname slipping easily from his lips.

She shrugs. “We’re only here for a week. I’m surprised on why you need so much.”

“You never know when I need extras.”

He may sound over prepared to anyone else, but Lou and their family are very aware of his tendency to make his clothes disappear. Well, not quite disappear but lose them. His power is camouflaging inanimate objects by touch. That means a lot of items around the house go missing.

So she adds animals to the household and he disappears objects. Lou isn’t sure how her parents still have hair on their heads anymore.

Without the unnecessary weight, Lou easily finds and sits down in her seat, shoving her backpack under the seat in front of her. She preferred having her stuff with her in her sight.

Fen struggles getting his luggage in the overhead compartment but eventually does and collapses into the seat next to her. Their parents were a few rows up.

Looking down at her phone, she is hit with a wave of homesickness. Or the equivalent term for missing her animal friends. Her lock screen is of a group picture of most of them. The ones she couldn’t fit were on her home screen.

It’s almost as if she could hear Ajax’s loud meows.

To distract herself, she turns to Fen. “How is June? This would have been more fun if she came along,” Lou says. She doesn’t like many humans, but her brother’s fiancé is one of her favorite people. With her brother and June having moved an hour away, she doesn’t get to see them as much as she would like. She actually thought June would be with Fen until he showed up alone.

“She’s good, says hi by the way. She didn’t feel great leaving the state with her Nani’s condition not so good.”

Lou doesn’t say anything else, not knowing how to respond to that. She didn’t know about June’s grandmother. Maybe she should text her.

He must have read her mind because he warns her not to do the very thing she was thinking of. “Don’t text her. She doesn’t want anyone really knowing.”

“That her Nani is sick?” Why would that be a secret?

“That she’s worried,” he counters.

“Why?”

She probably sounded like a kid, but it confuses her. People often do.

“She was taught that being strong means taking everything on her shoulders. That’s how to not show weakness.”

“But it’s basic human emotion. Why would that be weakness.”

She is met with silence. Just like her feelings must be written on her face, so are her brother’s. His face looks drawn. Tight. High with tension.

“We were raised differently than June. With her culture, it’s different,” he replies after thinking for a moment. The way he says it makes her think the conversation is done now. Final.

Lou settles into her seat more and rests her head back, eyes closed. “You guys should get a cat. They help with stress,” she suggests.

She doesn’t see him, but he gives a light chuckle, a slight rumble that makes her feel a bit better.

People are almost all filed in now. This is the longest time, waiting for others to get seated. She sometimes falls asleep before the plane ever takes off, but when it finally does, then it wakes her and she can’t sleep.

She wishes she could be home with her animal friends. Her soul must be intertwined with Ajax because she can hear his meows. It’s even more clearly now.

“It’s ok. Everything’s going to be ok,” a voice purrs. Her eyes shoot open, realizing they aren’t the phantom noises from her cat friend, but of a cat on the plane in the seat across from her and Fen’s in the aisle row.

The kitty cat is a beautiful dark grey with the brightest eyes. This one is obviously a service animal if the nervous girl is anything to go by. She is pale, eyes screwed shut, frantically petting the cat, trembling. Looking to be twelve, Lou feels for the poor girl. The human and for the cat. The feline appears calm, being a perfect friend.

“Switch seats with me,” she hisses. Her brother had the aisle placement.

“And why would I do that, Loubug?” He teases, with an all knowing smirk. He must have noticed the cat before her, well aware of why she wants to be closer to the aisle.

“Because I met the love of my life?”

He laughs but complies like the good brother he is. She clamors into his seat, leaning over her armrest, partially into the aisle.

“Hi, my name’s Lou. What’s your name?”

The girl looks around her but answers when she is sure Lou is talking to her. “Mira.”

Her voice is so quiet, slightly shaky.

Truth be told, she wanted the cat’s name, but Lou supposes it would be helpful to have the human girl’s name as well.

“What about you?” This time she directly lowers her gaze to the animal in Mira’s lap.

“Storm,” the cat meows.

“Nice to meet you Storm and Mira.”

Mira’s eyes widen and her petting halts. In an instant, she stops quaking, almost like she forgot to. “How’d you know my cat’s name?”

“She just told me.” Mira continues with her confusion.

“My sister can talk to animals,” Fen interjects from her left, putting Mira out of her misery. “A bit obsessed as well.”

She can’t deny it, though she wouldn’t have used that word. What’s so obsessive about wanting as many animals as possible?

“Is it ok to pet Storm? I know some service animals, you shouldn’t distract.” Lou knows that Storm isn’t one of those kinds, but she does have to play nice with her human.

“No it’s ok. Storm is for my anxiety. Is it ok with her?” She has this curious look. No longer scared.

By now, Lou is practically hanging off her seat. People around them are staring at them, disapproving looks on their faces. People are just weird.

“Sure! I like pets. Especially under my chin,” Storm answers, tilting her head up, ready to receive the pets.

“She said it’s fine,” Lou translates, though that’s only to be polite since it is obvious that Storm likes her.

She reaches across the aisle and scratches right under her chin, purring so much that she feels it on her fingertips.

“You sure have a way with animals,” Mira comments.

“I understand them better than people.” Mira giggles like it’s a joke, but Lou is serious.

Fen leans forward and reiterates what Lou was thinking, “She’s not kidding.”

The flight isn’t so bad with Storm near her. Storm is such a good cat, calming her human and being quiet.

She barely takes her eyes off of Storm. What can she say. She loves cats.

And when the flight ends, Lou isn’t lying in that saying goodbye to Storm was one of the hardest things to do.