Chapter 5

It was dark out, and I hadn’t eaten anything. I was a half-drugged, half-asleep, pissed off nervous wreck and probably dehydrated as well. I got my bag and headed outside to where I could see my brother when he came to get me, except, of course, I hadn’t called him yet. I stopped at a Starbucks, which probably wasn’t the wisest thing that late at night, but more caffeine seemed like just the thing I needed most right then. And a scone. And a cookie. I was starved. It was half-dark there, and I switched on the phone, swiped to Mike’s name, and pushed call.

When he picked up, I said, “It’s me. I’m at the airport. Come get me.”

He answered with, “Fuck. Go stand somewhere I can find you then. Like under the big number seven. Can you find that?” (Followed by what I inferred was a silent, but fervent, asshole.)

I almost snarled, “What are you driving!”

“The big white one!”