Trey
I don’t think. I just react.
I’m well aware I’m going to eat this cancellation fee, but it’s a small price to pay if it means Hudson will be okay.
I don’t wait until the cancellation is confirmed, my feet moving almost as fast as my heart. I could go to the rental car counter and complain, maybe even ask to see a manager.
I know rentals are supposed to be inspected and kept up on, but sometimes shit gets overlooked. People return cars and aren’t always honest with the condition. But I also know it’ll take time to argue with them, get a manager, maybe even get someone to ride out and change the tireifthey happened tohave enough staff to spare someone. Not to mention, there’s this damn storm to contend with.
No, my best option is my least favorite, but I try not to think about my past experiences. I get the notification my Uber driver has arrived just as I’m bursting through the doors to the rideshare pick-up. I don’t waste time with pleasantries, nor do I bother using his trunk. I toss my suitcase into the backseat and climb in, slamming the door shut.
“Where exactly am I taking you?” he asks, too lazily for my liking. Thunder rumbles in the distance, and I have to remember to breathe.
I’m not going to get anywhere if I blow up at the guy, but all I can think about is Hudson.
He sounded so fucking scared…
I should have just driven him myself, and then maybe…
No, you can’t think like that, Trey. Hudson’s not some kid. He’s a grown man. This kind of shit can happen to anyone.
“I gave you the address,” I say as politely as I can. The driver—who looks not a day over twelve, and not old enough to drive a car, period—squints at me in confusion.
“I think your address got cut off or something because this is the middle of the highway.”
It takes everything in me to not snap at this guy and reconsider my options. But the longer I take, the longer Hudson has to suffer—alone.
“I know that. I’m meeting a friend,” I say as coolly as I can. “I will tip you one hundred dollars if you stop with the twenty questions and just drive the fucking car.”
The kid nods his head. “Whatever.”
I close my eyes and let out a long breath of relief when he puts the car into gear and takes off.
I watch the map on my phone screen. Hudson’s only about thirty minutes out, not far at all. But in this weather and traffic he might as well be an hour away.
I swipe out of the app and pull up his number. He picks up on the first ring.
“Hey, Huds,” I say, my heart racing like a damn firetruck straight for a fire. I do my best to keep my voice even. Calm. Last thing I need is to add to his panic attack.
“Hey, ” he says.
“Did I ever tell you about the time I went to Disney World with my ex?”
Hudson’s breath is shaky, and I think he’s not going to say anything. That he’s going to hang up, but he says, “No.”
I let out a sigh of my own.
“Well, she wasn’t my ex at the time. She wasn’t really my girlfriend either, but we used to mess around once in a while when I was in town and—” I clear my throat, feeling strangely self-conscious for some reason. “Anyway, I thought it would be fun to, you know, surprise her with tickets to Disney World. Got them for cheap through my company, showed up in a Minnie-Van—”
“A minivan?” Hudson asks, almost surprised.
“No, not aminivan,a Minnie-Van. It’s like this little red and white polka dot van service—”
I hear a faint laugh.
“Minnie Mouse has a van?”
I let out a chuckle of my own. “Duh. Minnie Mouse has everything.”
