But when it happened again, I turned toward him.
“Excuse me. Could you please give me a little more room?”
He glanced at me as though I had interrupted something important.
“What?”
“Your arm and shoulder are pressing against me.”
He looked down, then shrugged.
“It’s hot. There’s barely any room in here.”
“I understand. I’m uncomfortable too. I just need you to stay on your side as much as possible.”
He gave a short laugh.
“Where exactly do you expect me to go? Into the aisle?”
I felt my cheeks warm.
“I didn’t say that. I just asked you to give me some space.”
He looked at the narrow gap between my seat and the window.
“Then move over.”
“I can’t move any farther.”
“Well, neither can I.”
He turned away as if the discussion were finished.
For a few minutes, I told myself to let it go.
Maybe the heat was making everyone irritable. Maybe he hadn’t meant to be rude.
