7
Dreaming Out Loud
Friday, January 13th
· Patrick ·
When Nualla had asked if I wanted to get out of here, I didn’t think she had meant to another state. Which is why it came as a total shock when I found myself standing near a ticket counter in SFO staring at Nualla as she watched the flight information flash across the screens.
After our daring escape from the mall, we blazed a trail out of the city and down 101 to the SFO Airport. I was so caught up in the laughter of diving into a car just as Michael came out the mall doors after us that I didn’t even notice we were going to the airport. I actually got all the way into the terminal before I even acknowledged anything other than I was with Nualla and we were not at school. Even when I finally looked around and saw where we were I thought it was a joke, until I remembered I was with a bunch of super rich kids. Out of town to them meant something completely different.
But I was already in too deep at this point and I really didn’t want to bail. I just prayed that they would at least keep it in the country because I didn’t actually have a passport. I silently calculated how much money I had in my bank account. I really didn’t want to have to look like a dork for being too broke to buy my ticket to the crazy place they were planning to run off to.
“So where are we going cuz?” Nikki asked Nualla, who was still staring up at the flight board.
“Wherever has a flight leaving first,” Nualla answered without looking away from the board.
Nikki raised an eyebrow “We running from something?”
Parents. Homework. Nualla’s stalker punk. Life. Any one of these things seemed like perfectly logical things to run from.
Nualla eyed me covertly. “Naw, the fun is in the surprise.” She whipped her head back around to look at the board causing her hair to fling out just like in a movie.
God she is beautiful.
How the hell had I gotten so lucky to end up here with them, with her? Maybe I had been hit by a bus and I was in a coma dreaming, or dead. Naw, as unbelievable as this was, I knew it was reality because A: my fantasies aren’t this delusional and B: I had absolutely no idea what the inside of an airport looked like in real life—until now.
While I was contemplating my sanity and luck, Nualla had apparently made her decision because she walked over to the ticket counter to purchase our tickets.
Shawn looked up at the flight board. “My money’s on New York.”
“Hawaii,” Nikki chimed in cheerfully.
“LA,” I guessed without even looking.
Nualla returned a few minutes later holding four tickets. She thrust them toward us. “Vegas,” she said with finality.