It was all I could see on the screens. The flight to Raleigh, which still would have left me driving three hours home, was canceled.
“I’m sorry, sir, due to the inclement weather, we’ve canceled all departing flights,” the woman at the desk said, looking exhausted.
I sighed, rubbing a hand over my face. Of course this was happening. I hadn’t slept, I was starving, and I just wanted to go home. Now, here I was, fucking stuck.
“I’ll also let you know as well, we’ve been informed that taxis and Ubers to and from the airport right now have several hour waits. I apologize, I wish there was more I could do,” the young lady added sincerely.
“It’s fine, thank you,” I said.
I groaned as I texted my dad.
Flight is canceled. Snowing its ass off. Won’t make it home. Sorry.
Go find a hotel and rest. We’ll see you Sunday.
I threw my head back in frustration. I knew this was hopeless. No transportation for hours. I was sure there were no hotels anywhere near here with vacancy. I was probably better off posting up here, waiting until things calmed down, and catching the first flight to Charlotte.
But I seriously, desperately, wanted to sleep in a bed.
I searched and searched online until I found a hotel with openings. I could book it, but a ride was the issue now.
I had no other option. I called Cal.
I felt guilty for it. I knew he would be with his family, or heading that way at least.
“Si?” He was groggy. He’d clearly been asleep. Lucky him.
“Fuck, I didn’t mean to wake you, sorry,” I said quietly.
“No, it’s alright. Are you okay?” he asked, instantly more alert, the concern bleeding through the static.
“Yeah, I’m fine, I’ve been stuck at the airport all night. They canceled—”
He huffed, a sharp exhale. I could practically feel his glare from here. “Why the hell didn’t you call me, baby?” I heard him moving around, sheets rustling, feet hitting the floor.
“I—”
He stopped me again. “I’m coming to get you. Don’t go anywhere.”
“Thank you,” I said, relief washing through me like a warm wave.
“And when I get to you, we’re arguing. Why the fuck didn’t you call me? You could have stayed at my place,” he scolded, though there was no real heat in it.
“I figured you were with your family,” I said.
“Even if I was, they wouldn’t care. I’ll see you in like forty-five minutes, okay?” Cal assured me.
Forty-five minutes felt like an eternity. I just wanted to get out of this place. It was packed, beyond claustrophobic, and I felt it swallowing me whole.
I’m here.
The text lit up on my phone like a beacon. I was finally leaving this airport, getting away from all these fucking people.
I hurried towards the sliding doors, the biting cold hitting my face instantly. As soon as I stepped out, I saw him. He was leaning against his car, a matte black Honda Civic Sport that looked like it hauled ass, because of course he had a car like that.
Cal pushed off the car, walked up to me, and took my bags without a word.
“Hey,” he said with a smile that warmed me faster than the heater ever could.
