Can you get me a private flight somewhere?
Depends. Is that “somewhere” Albuquerque, New Mexico?
... Maybe.
There’s a pause, then a ding.
Give me thirty minutes.
I really don’t know how I functioned before Heather. She arrives the next day at noon to pick up Morocco and send me off to the private flight she’s arranged.
“I am literally yourmother,” she complains as she repacks my bag. Apparently, everything I packed was wrong.
“You love it,” Matty grumbles from his position on the couch.
Heather grins. She sort of does. She buys all my clothes now, too. I didn’t ask her to, she just started doing it one day. She says it’s like having a full-sized Ken doll, which is extremely weird. But I like the stuff she buys, so I don’t argue with her.
“Wear this shirt when you go see Jacob, yeah?” She waves a gray T-shirt at me. “And that black jacket I got you.”
“What are you going to say to him?” Matty asks me.
“I don’t know.”
“You need a strong opening line,” he says. “Like, ‘Yo, asshole, what has two thumbs, an F1 championship, and doesn’t give a shit what you think of him?This guy.’?” He points both his thumbs at his chest. “Then just drop a mic and drive away.”
Heather rolls her eyes. “So, in this scenario, he’s brought his own mic with him?”
“Obviously.”
“What if he wants the mic back afterward, though?” Heather asks. “Like if it’s an expensive mic, should he ask Jacob to post it in the mail afterward, or—?”
“What’s your suggestion, then?” Matty says.
She shrugs. “Just tell him how you feel.” She hesitates. “But don’t let him brush you off. And make sure you hold him accountable for all the stupid shit he did.”
Okay, I seriously regret telling Heather so much about our relationship. She pointed out that a lot of the time, when I thought Jacob was just being normal, and that the issue was that I wasn’t used to relationships or that I was being too demanding, Jacob was sort of being... intentionally dismissive.He should have thanked you for that racing sim, she said once.And he should have gotten you a damn Christmas present.
Personally, I think it was more complicated than that. But I guess I’ll find out soon enough.
The private plane is so expensive and fancy, I feel guilty, but it is nice to know I’ll get to Albuquerque in way less than eighteen hours. The flight attendant is a nice guy who asks me to sign hisHarper T-shirt and then brings me some food and leaves me alone to watch movies on my laptop. An hour in, I ask if he wants to watch with me, because it seems pointless for him to just stand there waiting to see if I need anything.
We make it throughDie Hard(Matty’s recommendation) andMoana(Hunter’s recommendation) before we land. The pilot asks me when I think I’ll want to head back.
“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “Might only be a couple hours.”
“No problem. We’ll refuel now, and you just text whenever you want to go.”
“Thanks,” I say. “You can pick the movies on the way back,” I add to Joey, the flight attendant.
The car Heather rented for me is waiting. She also managed to get me Jacob’s address, and I’m honestly not sure how. She just said “Ways and means” when I asked. I swear she has secret connections in every team in motorsport.
I put the address into the GPS and head off. I should get a hotel room to shower in, but I can’t be bothered. Jacob has seen me looking way worse than this. And now that I’m here, I just want to get it over with. Rip the Band-Aid off.
My stomach is a cold, anxious knot the whole way there. It’s an hour from the airport, which gives me just enough time to envision every possible worst-case scenario.
It’s late morning when I finally get there. Jacob’s parents live in a really fancy, really creepy-looking suburb. All of the houses look almost identical, and all the streets have basically the same name. Grace Haven Road, Grace Haven Crescent, Grace Haven Lane... the postal service workers must need a drink delivering mail here. Even the GPS seems confused once we pass through the gates.
I finally track down the right house and step out into the cold, dry air. I’m not wearing the gray shirt Heather told me to wear, but I do pull on the black jacket. The temperature isn’t that low, but it’s the kind of cold that cuts right through you. I can’t imagine how Jacob stands it.
