When The Time Comes

chapter 12; Ben

I check my phone for the fourth time since I've woken up, now sitting at the back of Omar's car. I push the phone back in my pocket and resume to counting today's earnings. Michael's probably not awake yet so I shouldn't expect him to reply for at least a couple more hours.

"You finish counting?" Omar asks from the front.

"Recounting them."

"How much was it the first time?"

"Three thousand and fifty five," I say which causes both of them to smile a little.

That makes $8,385 for each of us.

I sit with that number for a while. My stomach twists, threatening to throw up breakfast. I'm done recounting and the anxiety creeps its way back in. Eight thousand dollars isn't nearly the amount I had in mind for Michael. And while Omar and Lib are giddy about their allowance, I want to make more money. I have no idea how but I need to do it fast otherwise I'll be in Maryland, wasting my time on a guy who might not even exist. And dying before doing right by Michael.

But how exactly do you make such a large amount of money when your days are numbered like mine. If the answer was simple, the entire human population wouldn't be struggling the way they are. Some people do know though. I'm not one of them but it gives me hope that there's a possibility I just haven't figured it out yet.

"Ben? Did you hear what I said?" Lib asks, the leather making an awkward prolonged squeak as she turns.

"What?"

"The greyhound leaves at two o'clock. You good with that?"

"How much is the ticket?"

"Around eighty dollars," she says.

"One way?"

"Yeah. Travel time is twenty hours," she directs her attention to Omar now. "Why don't we just fly there, I can't sit in a bus for twenty hours."

"How much are the flights?" I ask.

After a second, she smirks, "Same price but it's a round trip."

"Fine, book the flights," Omar gives her the green signal.

"Whose card are we using?"

"Venmo me the money, both of you. We can use my card."

I hesitate but Lib gives me his code and I scan it, pausing once more before hitting send on the amount. Ever since the stag mail, I can feel the heaviness of each dollar slip my out of my wallet and into the gutter. Every dollar I don't need to spend. Every dollar I keep wasting on my short life.

"Are you done?" Lib asks, taking Omar's phone back from me.

"Yes."

Lib's curious gaze lingers for a moment before she turns back around. We stay in the parking lot for about twenty minutes more while Lib books the flights for us. I want to back out so bad but how do you when you're in the backseat of someone else's car? Maybe this is meant to be, maybe I'll get lucky in another state. The money is out of my account and into his. It's safe to say, I think it's a little too late to be thinking about all of this.

Panic rises in me and my own unsaid words are starting to feel like heavy chains around my neck. I swallow them, choosing to stay silent- like every god damn time. I thought things were changing for me, I really did this time.

"Nobody needs anything from their places, right? We can head to the airport straight from here."

"What about your car?" I ask.

"I'll leave it at the airport," Omar says, coolly.

"I need to pick up something," Lib announces.

"I texted everyone so we wouldn't need to stop anywhere," Omar complains, slightly agitated.