“Oof, big facts. Mom called me this morning to ask me if you remembered your passport.”Of course she did.“How would I know that? Anyway, you’re right. I just need to get my ass into first class and get a drink to kick this whole trip off.”
My arm slips from hers. “First class?”
She turns to me in confusion, which only serves to bring the blood boiling in my body closer to the surface. “Yeah? We’re all in first class,aren’twe?” She looks around the row of seats we’ve claimed for ourselves for confirmation and everyone but Evie and I nods their heads.
“Evie and I didn’t book first class because when I asked you if you wanted to, you said you didn’t see a point in paying the extra fee.”
Dani chimes in. “Oh, she told me that too, but I said why start a luxury trip in Coach? So everyone switched up.”
“Not you caping for her just because she’s the bride,” Evie chastises.
Dani snorts, sticking her tongue out at Evie. “I only cape for myself, thank you. I’m just saying it’s my fault she switched it up last minute, so I’m sorry.”
I internally roll my eyes. Amerie and I met Evie and Dani in high school and have been friends ever since. We even went so far as to call ourselves DEJA vu for the first letter of our names. I love these women. I would do anything for them. But, fuck, do I want to slap some fucking sense into both Dani and Amerie right now.
Even if what Dani said were true, it would still be Ri’s fault considering she knows she had a conversation with me where she told me not to book first class and then did not follow up with me to let me know she changed her mind.
I look to Evie, whose lips are pressed together and eyes are hard.
“We could’ve just flown private like I suggested,” Christian quips.
“It’s the fact that you actually think you’re helpful for me,” Evie says, shooing him away with her hands.
“Well, why don’t we go over to the desk and see if they can upgrade your tickets? My treat.” Amerie shrugs.
Now, I’m just insulted. I can pay for my own first-class ticket, she should know that’s not the damn point.
Stop what you’re doing and count to ten. It’s her wedding vacation, you can’t go off on her.
I take a deep breath, trying to dispel my anger.
Ten.
Nine.
Eight.
Seven.
Six.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
Fuck that, I’m still pissed.
“I’m good. I’ll stay where I am.”
Her shoulders sag. “Nelly, it’s not a big deal. I can just—”
I interrupt her. “You’re right. It’s not. That’s why I’m not gonna bother upgrading.”
