I’ve been scrollingmy phone for the past hour waiting for this message. I know she’ll be fine; she’s an intelligent woman who’s fully capable of figuring anything out. But I care about her and that automatically means I’m going to worry until I know she’s on the ground and made it to her destination safely. I’m perpetually protective of people I care about, and she’s currently sitting at the top of that list.
I type a quick response, hoping I catch her before she closes out of the app.
So, the science/magic thing that keeps planes aloft worked?
Sophie
Shockingly, yes. Without a doubt, it’s magic.
I fucking love her sense of humor. I feel like I’d kind of lost mine until hers helped me find it again.
How’s Atlanta?
Sophie
I’ve been outside for 2.2 seconds but can confidently confirm humidity is real. And disgusting. Eleven out of ten, do not recommend. Waiting on my Uber now. Inside.
You’re riding alone?
Sophie
Yeah. They were supposed to pick me up, but they’re behind schedule, so I’m meeting them at the venue.
I start to type,
Can I send you my phone number so you can share your location with me?
Because I want to watch that fucking dot drive from the airport until she arrives, so I know she’s safe. But I erase it and send,
Have you shared your location with someone?
Sophie
Lola and Hannah.
That makes me feel better.
Good. Make sure you text them a photo of the driver and his details too.
Sophie
I will.
Please let me know when you get there so I know you made it safe. And have fun!
Sophie
Will do. Do me a favor and hold out your hand?
*holds out hand*
Sophie
*drops in earrings*
God, this woman. “Go get ‘em, killer,” I whisper to the screen.
sixteen
