To say the plane was snug was an understatement, and I very quickly realized how glad I was that Dolph had allowed me the aisle seat because of my foot. He was squashed between myself and a rather overweight gent who snored like an ox. Dolph however, didn't appear to mind too much. Almost as soon as we were seated and belted into place, he pulled a headphone coil and his iPod from his pocket, plugged himself in, leaned back and closed his eyes. I wasn't one to deny anyone of a snooze, napping was fast becoming my favourite past time, the little amount of sleep I got. He almost looked peaceful, off in his own little dream world. Perhaps he was dreaming of spray tans, or Florida beaches. My first day on the job in NXT they'd recommended I at least get a light tan – not hard for most in the heat, but I refused. Call me old fashioned, but I just didn't see the appeal in lighting up the screen like a tangerine.
I eased myself into the red chair and glanced about at the dozens of other people on the flight to good old Philly. Dolph and his magic fingers had already managed to sort a hire car for us at the end of it all, and he'd graciously agreed to act as chauffer. There was nothing wrong with my ankle, not really, I was pretty sure I could drive for an hour, but still, beneath those grey-blue eyes he could be a gentleman. If he really tried. Maybe he was just trying to buy his way back into my good favour, if that was the case – he was doing a good job I had to admit it. Blocking me out for the entire journey would possibly lose him points. My phone slept in the bag at my feet and I tried to get comfortable, my head against one of the seat cushions, but no matter how I adjusted myself, no matter which way I faced, it just wasn't happening. I huffed, I sighed, I even yawned deliberately to try and summon the netherworld of naps. I envied Dolph then; he seemed to have the ability to fall asleep wherever he was. Was he really out of it? He seemed so...wasn't moving. I cautiously reached out and waved in front of his eyes slowly. Nothing.
'Dolph?' I asked softly. Again, no response, perhaps he couldn't hear me over the headphones. They were the sort that you placed inside your ear, and looked like a nightmare waiting to happen. I clearly didn't need any help injuring myself, and I could almost see future hospital trips to have an ear bud like that removed. Reasoning that if he was indeed fast asleep that he wouldn't need both headphones in and that I wasn't doing any real harm, I gently plucked one of the blue headphones from his ear. He didn't move. My teeth bit down on my bottom lip, and I turned my head to the front, pushed it into my own ear – only after I'd done it thinking about the fact that we were now sharing ear wax. Gross.
But when I started to listen, I realized to my complete and utter surprise that I knew who blasted through the speakers.
With a squeak I sat up in excitement, the bud popped out of my ear, and pulled free from Dolph's own, and he jolted away, eyes flickered and he felt instinctively for the headphones.
'What just happened?'
'Mötley Crüe!' I grabbed his arm and beamed at him, eyes screwed shut, a smile on my mouth that could have belonged to a three year old. 'I didn't take you for a Crüe fan at all! What's your favourite album? My brother got me into them when I was little...always had such a thing for Nikki Sixx, maybe that's where the ink obsession came from!'
He almost looked scared of me when I finally opened my eyes. But then his face collapsed and he started to laugh. The overweight man next to him snorted, his lips smacked and a line of drool rolled down his face as he turned away. Dolph ran a hand through his dyed blond hair and looked up at the lights above us, as if taking himself back to some before date.
'I think that's the most you've said to me in one go Sparky.'
'Details, details!'
He looked down at my hands, nails near spearing his muscular arm, but I didn't let up. This was uncharted territory; I'd certainly made friends for my music tastes back in NXT, but the chances of finding someone into the Crüe at random, especially someone who I'd have to spend as much time with as Dolph, was brilliant.
'Yeah love them; getting into hair bands too...you can thank Jericho for that.' He looked down at his iPod, and flicked through. I tried to lean over and have a nose, but he pulled it away so that I couldn't see. 'Nosy.'
'I just wanna see if your excellent taste continues.'
'That's for me to know and you not to find out.' He said and put a finger on my forehead to push me back; I was near standing up in my seat, the belt straining against my waist. It hurt, and I hadn't even noticed until I was sitting down like a good girl once again. 'Got some Manson on here, Dropkick Murphy's, Poison, Steel Panther...not in that order, obvs.'
I stared at him. It was a curious thing to hear someone rattle off the music you loved out of the blue. I wasn't even looking at the iPod anymore, just at him. He seemed totally engrossed and after a couple of seconds I couldn't even hear what he was saying anymore. It was just a jumble of words that didn't matter because the man had somehow managed to earn himself a heck load of points. Music had always been my escape – when things became difficult, and when I'd heard the word no, no, no a thousand times too many, I'd just plug myself in, lay down on whatever bed that was offered and let the world blast away. Perhaps I was just a walking archetype – the tattooed rocker chick. But that didn't bother me. Growing up in Montana to conservative parents who didn't like anything different from their own dull lives was one thing; if Jake hadn't been born first there may have been a very different story. He'd been determined to be different.
'Why are you looking at me like that?'
I'd been a fan of his. Marked out at his matches, watched with wide eyes at the level of skill he showed, winced at some of the incredible bumps he took. Dolph Ziggler was a wrestler. A man I'd seen on the TV. He was right there next to me. But I'd forgotten just who he was; he was so human, so easy to touch. His flesh in my fingers was real, the confusion in his eyes was really there. No TV screen separated us, and I knew I was seeing the man behind the Show Off. I didn't like everything that was there for sure; but what had happened so far that day and now this...well it was a start.
'We should be friends.'
He regarded me with suspicion, 'I tried that. You didn't like what I had to say last night, remember? What if we try and talk something heavy. You just gonna bust my balls all over again?'
'I didn't say best friends.'
'If I say yes will you let go of my arm?'
I nodded, but didn't loosen my grip. Given how hard I held him, when I did eventually let go he was probably going to have my fingerprints embedded into his skin. What skin – it was soft, like he bathed in moisturiser every night...and it wouldn't have surprised me at all if he did. He still smelled like sweat – not given enough time to shower because of the cripple to his left. He'd given me hours of his day, and I gave him minutes back. A fair trade.
'Alright.'
With a broad grin I gave him freedom. He raised his arm above his head a little as if trying to get the blood flowing. Then, to my surprise, he turned off the iPod, rolled up the headphones and pushed them into his pocket. He turned in his seat to face me as best he could, arm on the rest and head propped up by the other. Mischief flashed in his eyes and I leaned back a little, wondering whether or not to trust that grin.
'So, friend. Tell me about you.'
'Me?' I replied incredulously. No one ever wanted to know about Nora White. Why would they? There was nothing to tell.
'I don't see anyone else right now.' He said, and true to his word, his gaze didn't even flinch from me as an air hostess stalked by. He shrugged. 'We have a couple of hours, and I'm in the mood for a life story.'
'Why don't you tell me yours?'
'You already told me everything about me yesterday. Today is Sparky day.'
I shifted uncomfortably. I didn't really like to talk about myself – it seemed such a dull subject when everything that happened around me was so exciting. I'd fallen into a world that never stopped moving, and now, confronted with a simple request, I felt like time had jumped to my feet and frozen everything.
'Um...well. My name is Nora Gabriella White...I'm twenty five...I'm a Taurus...'
'You're making this sound like we're speed dating.'
'Damn, seen straight through me.'
'Come on make it entertaining. Where you from?'
'Winnett, Montana.'
'What's there?'
'Nothing. It's practically a ghost town. Only like...a hundred and eighty people live there, I know them all by name and birthday. It's great for hunting though so every now and again people go through for deer or elk...definitely not a tourist spot. It pretty much generally sucked all of the time.'
'Is it pretty?'
'It's in the middle of nowhere and everything looks like it's breaking...but its home.' I shrugged. I tried not to think of my hometown. It seemed so far away now, like it was on another planet or something. I'd managed to drag my ass out of the dust and into the limelight, I sure as hell wasn't going back. 'Jake always said we should be proud of the dirt we came from. I guess I am, but that's a hell of a lot of dirt.'
'Jake?'
I looked away from him. My hands looked interesting. Far more interesting than the question which so obviously hung in the air. The constant chitter chatter of the other passengers was interesting too. That couple behind us with their plans to breed turkeys sure had good turkey breeding plans. Oh and that woman over there, yes, yes she really did need medical attention because of that obviously put on cough, just to get away from the screaming child next to her (was it hers?).
'Hey, Sparky.' He tapped my arm.
'Next question.'
He blinked, but thankfully didn't pursue, and I was grateful.
'What are your parents like?'
Family...again.
'Pass.'
'Any pets growing up?'
'A fat Persian cat named Jasmine – she was my grandma's. Our house had belonged to her, but we'd always lived there. She died when I was four and left us with the white fur ball. She was ok, hated being woken up...guess we have that in common. She lived forever,' I tapped my chin with a finger and looked up in thought. 'I think she was like twenty when she finally went? Old kitty. God she smelled...but I loved her in my own funny way. She had this thing, where she could always tell if you were sad, and she'd come along and just sit on you. She wouldn't budge, and you just had to pay her attention until you forgot what you were upset about...' I smiled. 'I miss that.'
Dolph smiled, but it seemed he still wasn't satisfied.
'Where did you go to school?'
'What is this? Twenty questions?'
'Maybe.' He rubbed his chin and shrugged once again. 'It's keeping me entertained so we best carry on, I can be a real bitch when I'm bored.'
I don't doubt it, I thought to myself.
'So, where'd you go to school?'
'I didn't. Home schooled.'
He made a face then, 'Winnett such a ghost town there's no school?'
'No no, there's a school. WISD...it's just my parents didn't let me go.'
'How come?'
'That counts as one of your twenty.'
'Fine.'
I sighed. My fingers slid through my hair and I twisted it into curls that didn't want to exist. He was a nosy bastard...but I knew I'd brought it on myself. He was right – I knew all about him...well what I'd seen over the years. Wasn't it only fair we traded information? Perhaps if we knew each other a little better, we might get along easier. Perhaps.
'Mother disapproved of the school because my father was one of the teachers there. She thought it was inappropriate for me to be taught by him.'
'I guess that makes sense. She thought he'd show favouritism?'
'Oh no, she thought I wouldn't make it to first grade.'
'Oh.'
'That's ten questions so far. Think about the last very carefully.' I said and held up my hands, waggled my fingers to illustrate just what he had left. Despite it, I was actually enjoying myself a little bit. He was easy to talk to, and whilst I hated just how much I was telling him, it just came out before I had a chance to filter it. Private didn't quite cover it; I'd made it as far as I had with most not knowing a thing, perhaps with the exception of Sami. He'd be proud of me now, for actually sitting down and talking about myself. I watched as Dolph rubbed his jaw in thought, clearly mulling over just what he wanted to know. This was possibly his only chance, so he had to make it good.
'Have you ever killed anything before?'
I blinked. Well, I guess it was better than what's your favourite pizza topping. 'Yes. I've hunted; I was taught by my neighbour Harry how to use a crossbow, he used to take us out with him. His wife Annie always made up these great stews with whatever we caught. But human wise? Not yet, give me time...see if you annoy me more.'
'Hey I'm not gonna actively annoy a lady with a crossbow.' He held up his hands defensively but grinned, 'Not gonna say I really agree with the killing the innocent woodland animals thing, but the idea of you holding a crossbow is pretty hot. I'll keep that image if you don't mind.'
'Be my guest.' It came out slightly squeaky. I swallowed it down. 'Next question.'
'If you could meet any former president, who would it be?'
'Roosevelt.' I said without hesitation. 'Just so I could meet his wife. There was this thing she said,' I held up my right arm. From the inside and spiralling round to my wrist, words were inked forever in script: no one can make you feel inferior without your consent. I read it out loud to him. 'I try and live by that.'
Dolph cocked his head to the side so he could better look at the tattoo, and nodded appreciatively.
'What was your first tattoo?'
I giggled at that, couldn't help the slight wave of heat that passed through my face.
'Butterfly, inner thigh.'
He raised his eyebrows. 'Now that requires a story.'
'Must it?'
'Hey hey don't break the rules. I'm the one asking questions here missy.' He waggled a finger at me.
'My parents hate tattoos, it was the only place I could think of that they'd never see, and I always wanted to be a butterfly – they're stunning, and they're free. I guess...when I was younger I felt pretty trapped in a place like Winnett.'
I'd put down a thumb and two fingers on my left hand when he'd asked. Seven to go and the whole ordeal would be over. I wiggled the remainders left at him and winked.
'Running out of digits Dolph.'
'Do you have any weird skills, like party tricks?'
'Apart from the mean shapes I throw on the dance floor?' there were no shapes. It was normally safer if I stayed in one spot and bobbed about a bit. Moves required at least some kind of co-ordination and rhythm. I possessed neither. 'I'm really bendy.' To illustrate my point, and without so much as flinching, I bent the fingers back on my right hand. They moved freely. 'It's called hypermobility, a bit like being a contortionist...just without the big jars. Like I can bend my knees backwards...it's one of the reasons I'm so clumsy, because sometimes it just happens and I fall flat on my face.'
'That is one of the most awesome things I've ever seen. I demand to see the knee trick when we're off this plane and surrounded by padding.'
Well I wasn't suspecting that – most people recoiled from the sight or called me a freak. It was quite refreshing to be accepted for it. 'I inherited it from my Father.'
The large man next to Dolph snorted and turned again, this time to face both of us, his head slipped and very nearly landed on Dolph's shoulder. The wrestler winced and leaned forward as far as he could to avoid being slobbered on. He was so close our noses nearly touched until I shuffled back a little in my seat.
'Any chance of trading seats?'
'Not a chance.' Two more fingers down. 'Your next question needs to be worth a pinky.'
'Ok let's go to the basics for this one...what would your last meal be?'
'Oh that's easy. Buckwheat pancakes with Nutella, strawberries - served warm. That'd be a starter...then for main it'd be an elk burger, double cheese, curly fries with all the rocket I could eat and desert would be huckleberry macaroons. If I'm dying I'm having all the calories and you can't stop me.'
'Damn girl. How you so tiny?'
'Amazing restraint, and knowing the sad truth that fat girls don't get hired by the WWE.' I shrugged. 'I knew I'd have to be in the shape of my life, so out went the curly fries, in came kale, I bought a juicer and my frenemy is the elliptical.' Whilst I'm sure calling me tiny was a compliment, I didn't buy it and I didn't want it. Healthy was what I aimed for, not skeletal. There was nothing wrong with being small, as long as it gave out the right messages. I wanted to be heard, not just for what I said, but for what I did. 'Four questions left!'
'Your top five shag list?'
'Nikki Sixx, obviously, Jared Leto, Tom Hiddleston, Jennifer Lawrence because damn and without question the Crow, because watching that was the first time these ovaries knew anything other than cramps.'
' Nice. And he doesn't count, he's a comic book character.'
'Does that matter?'
'It does in this game.'
I chewed the inside of my mouth. This was more difficult than I'd thought. 'Damn so that takes out the backup plan of Mulan...ok then Danielle Harris. Because I know for sure she's a scream queen.'
'You being serious right now or just fucking with me?'
'You'll never know. That counts as a question by the way.'
'Damn.'
'Two questions left Dolph.'
'Your favourite wrestler of all time?'
I shook my head, and didn't put down a finger, 'I don't have an answer for that – I chose to appreciate every single one of your guys for your commitment and the time you spend and your devotion to the sport. I think it's selfish of people to declare someone their favourite just because of their looks or their status.'
Dolph actually clapped his hands at that. 'Thank you. Too bad you didn't say me because you might have got something more than a clap, but it's good to hear someone say something so sincere. The amount of bullshit you get is unbelievable. So do I still have two questions left?'
I nodded.
'Hmm...are you religious?'
'Raised Catholic, but I guess the same as everything else, I wanted to escape it. I still believe there's something else, something more. But whether that's of my own making or of someone else's design I don't know. I think it's good to have a little faith though, makes you more open to possibilities when miracles do happen, you know?' there was only a thumb left. 'Last chance Dolph.'
He didn't even hesitate this time.
'What's your dream?'
'I'm living it,' I said with a shy smile. 'All I ever wanted when I was small was to be a part of the WWE. I wanted to be heard, when you come from a small town with no prospects, it's easy to think you'll never amount to nothing. But I made a promise that I'd chase what I wanted, and I'd never give up until I had it in both hands...and I've finally made it.'
'Sounds to me as if you need a new dream.'
'Well no one asked you Mr.' I punched his arm gently. 'Next time it's my turn.'
'Nah.' He sniffed and shuffled against the seat. 'Don't feel like it.'
'No fair!' I shoved him, and watched in amusement as he slipped back against his neighbour and managed to obtain drool on his shoulder. 'Ew.'
'I'll get you for that Sparky.'
'I'm an injured party, you can't harm me. It's against the rules.'
'What rules? I've seen no rules.'
'I'm writing them right now.' I sat back in my seat and closed my eyes. 'They're ever so fun. You'll love every single one of them.'
'Great.' I heard him grunt.
The noise of the plane soon started to drift. It was strange how you could push the din away when you felt so at peace. In a way, opening up to him was just as freeing as my very first ink. I breathed in deeply, feeling calm for the first time in days, and after all the questions, it was definitely a nap well earned, next stop, Philadelphia.
