You Have to Get Used to It - Disc Two: Special Features

Liz’s POV
“Okay, okay. I’m getting on the plane. I love you lots, alright? See you after. Bye.” I hung up the phone, and stuffed it into my pocket. I’m really excited to be moving in with Zach, but it’s a three stop flight and it’s gonna be a long, long time before I ever get to see my new home, good ol’ California.

I put on my glasses, so I wouldn’t lose track them, like I always do. Well, they weren’t technically my glasses. Really they were Zach’s, from when he visited me last and offered for me to move in with him. And because of him leaving them, I’ve been messing with them ever since he left to go do “Heroes”, my new favorite TV show. So, I’m decided that in order to keep track of them, and to occupy myself for the flight, I’ll put them on.

Now, for whatever reason, Zach got me 1st class tickets. Why exactly a science teacher from Minnesota (currently New York) would need 1st class tickets in the first place, I have no possible idea. But, here I am, eating caviar and watching movies. Okay, without the caviar. Yeah, that was crossing the line of stereotypes a little too far.

After hours and hours on end, the plane landed in Denver, my first stop. People got on and off, they got everyone on the plane and we were off. Then after another period of hours and hours, we finally landed in Texas. I’m not sure, but I think it was south Texas. There’s a reason I didn’t become a social studies teacher. I continued the pros and cons of being a science teacher for absolutely no reason but boredom until a flight attendant approached my seat. He seemed like he was in his mid-twenties, and had dirty blond hair and blue eyes. He seemed nice enough, but what exactly did he need from me?

“Excuse me, ma’am?” the male flight attendant said. “Could you possibly be bumped to middle class? We have another passenger that’s also supposed to be in first class, but there was a mix-up and there aren’t any seats left. Would you mind? I really wouldn’t ask you unless it wasn’t important.”

“Oh, sure. He probably wants to be up here more than I do.” I chuckled at my lack of liking anything that was above middle class. I grabbed my purse, got up from my seat and the flight attendant helped me get my things down from the compartment just barely out of my reach.

“Thank you so much. I really didn’t want to get fired from something like this. You sure that this is no trouble? Because I could just take the blame for mixing up the seats and all if it is. You really don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“It’s absolutely fine, I promise.” I smiled, and he took me back to the middle class section, as he scoured the area for empty seats.

Justin’s POV
God, I hate planes. They could drop out of the sky at any moment and kill us all. It’s not natural for a twenty ton metal….thing to be up in the air like this! What’s stopping this plane from dropping out of the sky? These engines could fall right off the plane, causing us to plummet to our deaths and hit the ground on impact. These are the constant thoughts that worry me when I get on these death traps.

Oh, but because we need to get to places right this second (concerts and all), I have to ride these things more often than I’d like. And “more often than I’d like” makes me a frequent flier. Isn’t it fun having to go through one of your worst fears almost twice a month? Gee, I had absolutely no idea!

And the plane hasn’t even gotten off the ground yet.

I have to get back to good ol’ Minnesota where I’ll get to see everyone at home again. Jimmy, Debbie, Mom, Dad, and that dude who works at Video Now that I’ve known since 1995, but I can never remember his name. But the most especially Javelina. She’s really the only thing that’s kept me alive this long. Literally. I get to go back to the lair (otherwise known as my apartment), where I shall hide from humanity once again. One of the perks of figurative social suicide.

I put my hands against the frosted window and made “wings”. Ha, I remember doing this when I was a little kid, when I first encountered the joys of flying. It wasn’t as bad as I made it seem, as my fears have escalated over the years (Flight 711, thanks a lot), but it still was very frightening as a child.

I flipped through a few magazines as people filled the seats around me. Is it[ really[ taking this long, Delta? I thought you were supposed to be really efficient or something. Or was that another airline…I tried to think of a name, but I couldn’t think of anything. My attention span doesn’t seem to hold enough for the names of assorted airlines.

“And this is where you can sit, Miss…” some flight attendant said, directing a woman to the seat right beside me. Wait, I know her. Is that really…
“Jackson.” Liz finished, smiling at the flight attendant like he’d saved her from the evil Empire, as he put her bags in the compartment above my head. She didn’t have much, so it fit fine with my rather large carry-on. Though this beard isn’t very convincing that I’m not part of the Taliban, they let me pass and my perfect plan can operate…Muahahaha!

“I hope you both enjoy your flight. Sorry about the last minute seating arrangements. I hope they aren’t that much of a problem.”

“They’re fine.” I said, looking at Liz. The flight attendant gave me a weird look and walked away and after a moment of confirming, yes, this shit really is happening, I came up with something. “Small fucking world.”

“Isn’t it?” she said, and laughed. Same bright smile that always made me feel warm inside, from bottom to top. Liz took off her black glasses that really didn’t fit her in the first place. Was her vision really that bad now? Did I somehow give off Vitamin C waves and now that we barely saw each other, it ruined her eyes? They didn’t look like hers, either. Maybe she was returning them to whomever and was flying over to visit them.

“Are you okay, Justin?” Liz asked, and I realized I was shaking. The damn airplane was actually starting and, as expected, was scaring the living hell out of me. “You want to hold my hand? I know you hate planes.”

Huh. I didn’t know that she caught onto that sometime during our time together. Even after everything I’ve done, she still offers to hold my hand. She’s quite weird sometimes, but if I didn’t realize that by now, I’d be pretty stupid. And you know what? Her being here, while I’m silently praying to God that it would soon be over, made it all a little less bearable.

Liz’s POV
I really didn’t let go of his hand at all, but neither of us made a big deal out of it. Like this weird kind of shit happens every day. But he did calm down a little, which is better for the both of us. I did it out of generosity, and I know that he hates planes as much as my sister does. Think of it as giving a night light to a little kid who’s scared to death of the dark.

“Would either of you like a drink or a snack?” a woman operating one of those snack carts said to the both of us.

“Yeah, could you get me a Diet Coke and what do you want, Justin?” I turned to him, and he obviously didn’t expect it.

“Um, I’ll have a Diet Coke as well.” He thought after a short pause.

“Put it on my bill.” Hey, Zach’s paying for the thing, and again, I’m being generous. Oh, that’s mean. Making Zach pay for my generosity, but he got me coach seats for no reason, even though I told him not to. God, I take things so off-set from what the original intention was; it’s sad. But I’m being generous, that’s it. The end justifies the means, right? The flight attendant handed me two bottles of Diet Coke and walked away.

“You didn’t have to do that. I’ve got money.” Justin said, as I handed him his bottle of Diet Coke.

“Just say ‘thank you’ and we can worry about who has money and who doesn’t. And I still owe you anyway.” I said, taking a swig of the soda. I probably shouldn’t have mentioned one of the reasons we aren’t together anymore, but neither of us really noticed it. God, I should’ve thought of this earlier. Diet Coke never seemed to taste any better.

“Well, Miss Who-Has-Money-And-Who-Doesn’t, how have you been?” he asked me, looking at me like he hasn’t seen me in years. This is true if you make “years” singular. We all know of the lovely ”Even If It Kills Me” incident. I mean, my hair’s a little longer; it’s down to my elbows now. But really, I’m not any different than last year. Maybe just the shock that I just so happened to have sit next to him on one in a million flights. These strange familiar concepts of old coincidences makes me feel at home.

Though I’m half-suspecting that this is all just one of Melanie’s set-ups, I think she’s given up in me ever since I moved to New York City. And how would she be able to set it all up without knowing where the hell I was and what exact flight I’m on. But, she could if she really wanted to. At times, she really does have that willpower.

“Things have been going alright. Got a boyfriend, as you know. I don’t think you met him last time I saw you. I’m moving in with him in California. He’s an actor on a primetime TV show.” I explain, even though I’m surprised that all of it is really true. Honest to God, no lies are being told in the least.

“Wow. What’s the lucky guy’s name?”

“Zachary Quinto?”

“There is no way in hell. How the fuck did you manage that? Did Mohinder put you on “The List” or something?” Ah, so he did watching “Heroes” like I thought he was. The guys owe me 25 bucks next time they see him. And you’d think they’d know, seeming as that they hang out a lot since they’re in a band together and all.

“I was in a book store, looking for teaching guides and fiction books-“

“Wait, ‘teaching guides’?’

“I’m sort of a science teacher now. Got a degree online, and I was at Central Park East High School for two years until now. Didn’t I tell you all of this in 2007?” I replied, confused on why I was repeating myself.

Justin’s POV
Fucking Deja Vu to infinity. And how the hell did it all happen? I remember those fucking glasses now; Zachary Quinto was wearing them in some magazine article about “Heroes” I read a few weeks ago. Who would’ve thunk it? And yes, she has said all this before, but I didn’t think of it all ‘till now. Wow.

“’It was an isolated incident, back in 1984. On a plane from south to west Texas. I stuck my wings to the frozen window.’” I sang, hoping she’d realize why I was freaking out (mentally).

She laughed, making me laugh. Why I did, I’m not completely sure. All I know is that it perfectly fits my de ja vu of twenty-five years ago.

“I don’t think we have a radio.” Liz said, still grinning.

“I don’t think in 1984 I did either.” I replied back, smiling back.

Liz’s POV
Things are weird when it’s been predicted eight years before and has already happened twenty-five years ago.

“Well, I perfectly fit the roll of Miss West Virginia. Shall I explain how shuttles and airplanes aren’t the same?”

“Something to do with that the plane isn’t going to space and it’s a lot more efficient and tested on, compared to shuttles, which four out of seven have been destroyed?” he said, looking like he was mentally trying to recall that conversation from his memory.

“Also that planes are more suited to humans and that we aren’t leaving the troposphere in any way, shape, or form.” Ha! Throw some teacher-ific lingo in there and see what you make of it.

“Troposphere?” And…nailed it!

“The troposphere is basically is our area of the atmosphere. We live, eat, and breathe in, and planes never pass through the next level of the atmosphere. Which is good for us, ‘cause it’s a long, long, long way down.

“But enough of my weird science teacher speak, how have you been?” I asked, hoping that it whatever happened while I was gone wasn’t as bad as it sounded on ”Commit This To Memory”. We’ve never really talked about it, though I had implied it in “Hold Me Down”, even when he was around in 2007.

“If you mean 2006-2007, it was me spiraling downward to a point of no return. I got better, as you can see. Interacted with people, did another album, and I’m doing alright right now. Better than before.” Justin said, starting to smile. “Is that the answer you were hoping for?”
“For the most part, yes. I’m happy that you’re okay and that things are looking up for you and everything.”

“Not as much as you, Soon-To-Be-Mrs.-Zachary-Quinto. You’re dating Sylar, superhero mass murderer, slash Mr. Spock. You’re doing fricking fantastic.”

I laughed at the whole Mrs. Zachary Quinto thing. I’m the worst candidate to be married, in any situation. I’d fuck something up, or the other person would fuck something up and it’d cause a great catastrophe. I’ve just never been a huge fan of marriage as a whole anyways. I’m a waffler; wafflers go back and forth.

After that entire thing, I explained my viewpoint. “I know, I know, I’m dating a movie star. But me moving with him gives him bad rep. And I know, laugh at me, but who in Hollywood’s boyfriend/girlfriend is a school teacher? It’s sort of out of place, don’t you think?”

“Liz, I don’t really think he gives a fuck whether you’re a maid or a millionaire. He likes you for you, and that’s what counts, right?”

“Yeah, but…” I began, but Justin stopped me.

“Bethany Elizabeth Jackson, no and’s, or’s, or but’s. Liking you for you is what counts, is it not?” he repeated.

“Yes.”

“Then don’t worry about it, alright? Things will be great, and don’t say they won’t be, you get me?”

“Alright, Justin.” I said, grinning at Justin’s seriousness.

“Alright, Lizzy.” Damn, I miss that nickname.

After that, we talked about random things, like how good we were expecting the Hugh Laurie SNL Christmas Special would be, or comparing different shoes. Things like that.

“Converses look prettier!”

“Rainbows are easier to slip on and off!” I said, supporting the popular flip-flop brand. Justin, supporting the also popular Converses. Don’t get me wrong, Converses are great and all, but Rainbows are more useful when trying to get out the door and put your shoes on. And I’d be using them quite a lot in Cali.

One thing I’m going to like about California: The fact that I can wear t-shirts and shorts all the time. That’s something you’d do in Minnesota if you were hoping to be ambushed by the cold and get hypothermia within thirty seconds. Death by Minnesota.

“Are you really from Mahtomedi? What ever happened to the Liz I used to know? The one who never even dreamed of wearing those open-toed whatever they are!” Justin said, louder than he should.

Then I heard something from the speaker. It was a message from the captain flying the plane, and he said something that sounded like “descent” and “electronics”. I could Justin’s fingers tighten around my hand as we started to go down. God forbid these things go any faster, otherwise we might actually get this over with a little sooner. We finally landed, safe and sound. Justin breathed a sigh of relief when the plane stopped completely.

“Passengers leaving for stop Los Angeles, California, please exit the plane and thank you for flying with Delta.”

I turned to Justin. “I guess my time is up.” Justin got up to help me with my bags, even though he’s only an inch taller than me. After we managed that, I stopped and turned around. “Try to remember the troposphere thing, alright? It might help.” I said, giving him a small smile. I will not admit to myself that I might never see Justin again, according to my unhealthy attachment to Justin. But, in effort to make me move on, I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him on the forehead. “Bye, Justin.” And I left.

Just like you always do.

Justin’s POV
This is it. This is her moving on and away from me. We had a great run, I guess, but it’s over. And I’m just going to have to deal with that. My de ja vu, “The Hear Away,” style, is done. I sighed and sat back down, preparing myself for the torment of another plane ride. One more flight to go… My stomach growled at the thought of it, as in its way of saying “I can barely take this; can we get off this death trap already?”

But I found something. It was on the floor, near the seat where Liz was sitting right next to me, only minutes ago. They were the big black pair of glasses that I was certain weren’t hers. I picked them up and looked them over. No scratches, no cracks.

Ha, now she has to come back and visit me.

I put them in my lap and held onto them because I also realized that she grabbed my pair of glasses by mistake as well. Another reason to get my hopes up, another chance for things to start off good. I know I’m just kidding myself, but I don’t need to ruin it just yet. Our dependencies on yesterday will never leave us, and I know that neither of us will ever really change. She’ll still be Lizzy and I’ll still be Justin. The make out kids that never had the chance to be best friends. And as the plane started to lift off, I thought of the glasses, tropospheres, and everything else in between, and I can honestly say that I’m feeling fine.

And that’s exactly who we are.
It’s who we are
Miss West Virginia, please tell me that Texas is not that far..