“Well, we’re not late.”
“No shit.” He glanced around. “Let’s go grab you something to eat.” He nudged me toward a little bar-and-grill across from our gate. “You ain’t ate since we left Azalea. I’m not dealing with you hangry and panicking.”
“I’m not panicking,” I lied, tripping a little over my own suitcase wheel.
“You sweating yo’ edges through your bonnet. That’s panic, book girl.” He huffed out a laugh.
“What if they start boarding early?”
“I’m sure we can hear them from over there, Harlowe. Plus, I got the app, and I’m watching it.” He held up his phone. “Now, you want fries or mac with yo’ tenders?”
“Fries.”
“There she goes,” he said under his breath. “Never no stress that a chicken tender and fry can’t solve.”
I rolled my eyes as we made our way over to the restaurant and took a seat. I didn’t know how he’d done it, but my shoulders were beginning to relax. Hasheem always knew what to do to get me to calm down. It was our thing. He was always the calm to my crazy, always putting out my fires. He’d been my fireman long before he’d ever become one.
“Aye, my man.” Hasheem got the host’s attention.
Five minutes later, we were at a table near the windows where we could watch the planes take off. I dropped into my chair and exhaled so hard my soul left my body for a second. My phone buzzed on the table, lighting up with a banner from the group message I had with my parents. I was sure they were just checking in. I glanced at the message.
Mom:
You make it to your layover?
Send me a picture of your gate. I wanna see where my baby at.
My mom had been worrying herself to death ever since I told her I was traveling to Africa.Only child problems.When I told her last night that Hasheem was coming with me, it calmed her a little.
Me:
I’m good. We made it. About to grab food with Hashy. I’ll text when we board.
Dad:
Text us the name of the airline again.
And the time you land so your mom knows what time to worry.
Me:
I’ve already texted y’all all the information last night.
Mom:
Well, send check point photos.
Me:
Mom!
Mom:
What?
Me:
My food is here. Text y’all when I land in Zanzibar.
