Rowan’s still scrolling on his phone while the three of us look on like a bunch of teenage boys waiting for him to show us a nudie picture some girl sent him. We look pathetic, but damn, we miss our women.
“No flights,” Rowan says.
“Let’s go to the airport. I’ll buy our tickets from other people,” I say.
Rowan shakes his head. “No, I mean, there are no more flights leaving tonight.”
Henry steps closer to Rowan as if it’s taking all his control not to take the phone from his hand.
“The movies always show red-eye flights and people buying tickets last minute to tell the love of their life they love them.” I peer over Rowan’s shoulder.
His shoulders twitch as though he wants us to get away from him.
“I think that’s exactly it—it’s the movies.” Rowan shakes his head with finality.
All of us step back, and our shoulders fall.
“What about a train? Or a bus? Or shit, let’s rent a car?” Tweetie throws every idea out there.
It’s late and car rental places are already closed.
Rowan’s thumbs move across his screen again, and we all crowd him, hoping he’s going to give us the answer we want.
“There’s a bus,” he says, looking at his watch again. “But we’d have to leave, like, now and even then?—”
“Let’s go.” Henry grabs his bag.
I pick up Tweetie’s, shoving it into his chest.
Rowan does something on his phone. “Uber is five minutes out.”
I jog to tell Coach we’re heading out on our own. He tells me we’re crazy, but he’s not going to bother telling us not to because he knows we’ll do it anyway. The rest of our bags will be delivered to our houses when they land.
I meet the guys at the Uber and we all pack in.
Tweetie wedges himself in the middle, wiggling to find room that isn’t there. “No XL, Magic?”
“It would’ve been another five minutes.” Rowan, who took the passenger seat up front, says to the driver, “We need to get there as fast as you can.”
He glances at the three of us jam-packed in the backseat, then puts the car in drive. We all bitch and complain about which parts of our bodies are going numb, and Tweetie bitches about a bruise on his ass that’s killing him in the position he’s in.
“Oh, can we stop at Tasty Burger?” Tweetie asks, and the Uber driver puts on the turn signal.
“No!” the three of us scream, and the driver looks to Rowan for guidance.
“We’re not stopping. You can eat there. I’m sure there are vending machines,” Rowan says.
“Vending machines? I burned, like, five thousand calories tonight. Daddy needs to refuel.” Tweetie groans.
“Exaggeration.” Henry coughs the word into his fist.
“And Daddy? Please tell us you and Tedi aren’t into that?” Rowan chimes in from the front seat.
“Because if so, we’ll have to razz you about it for the rest of your life,” I say with a laugh.
“Not to mention, I’m fucking Daddy,” Henry says.
“Whoa, I guess Jade must be into it,” I say.
