(Malory)
Where is she?
Where is she?
Where is she?
I’m pacing like a madwoman in a small area of the airport, freezing my ass off as I wait.
It’s been an hour –no, an hour and a half.
My message tone rings.
Olive: So?
Me: she’s still not here
Olive: I wonder what’s taking so long
maybe the flight got delayed?
Me: That’s the only reason I can think of. I’m getting so tired of waiting
Olive: I’m sorry I couldn’t keep you company
Me: Eh, whatever. I knew your mom was going to say no. She’ll never let you travel this far for something like this
and with ME. Best friend or not.
Olive: how much longer are you planning to wait?
Me: honestly I don’t even know
Olive: Don’t stress out about it. Maybe just wait for a half hour more, and then leave if there’s nothing new by then.
Then, my phone rings.
“MOM!” I say, rather loudly. “What’s going on? Where are you?”
“Malory...” she says, lowly.
Oh no...
“W...what happened?” I ask.