The friction of the blue scrubs was unbearable, chafing against my legs with each step. My nerves were already shot, and now this fabric was pushing me over the edge. The heat was suffocating, California’s sun beating down on me like I’d made some personal enemy of the sky itself. I had no choice but to endure it, though—Luca, the driver, had given me my passport and ID, and that was the only reason I was able to stand in this stifling airport.
Pin had at least given me some white Adidas flats. They were comfortable, easy enough to run in if it came to that, but the weather was making it feel like a marathon just to stay upright. I twisted my hair in my fist, my fingers tugging at the damp strands that clung to my neck. I cursed myself for not bringing a hair tie. My sweat was already soaking through the scrubs, and it only made the fabric cling tighter. I shoved the papers deeper into my pocket, the material stiff and unforgiving as I tried to figure out how to move faster.
My breath hitched as I panted in frustration, my eyes darting around the crowded terminal. I knew where I was supposed to go—the hangar—but I was lost in this maze of heat and bodies. My heart raced as I stumbled backward into someone, both of us letting out a startled "oof."
“Sorry,” I muttered, flustered. I turned to face her, trying not to stare, but failing.
Her eyelashes fluttered, too long and feathery, her fingernails a shade of pink that looked more like a weapon than a manicure. How did she even function with nails that long? I dismissed the thought. I couldn’t care about that now. She was probably judging me just as hard—wondering why someone in scrubs, drenched in sweat, and clearly unhinged, was sprinting through the airport.
“What are you doing?” Her voice was laced with irritation as her heavily made-up face scrunched, creating cracks in her caked-on foundation.
I pointed weakly at the taxi sign. “How long?”
“Did you call for one?”
I ran a hand over my forehead, wiping away the sweat. “No.”
Everyone else was dressed for the heat—shorts, tank tops, summer dresses. Hideous tropical shirts that made me want to scream. The sun streamed in through the glass ceiling, casting golden light over the indoor palm trees, mocking me. I coughed, the humidity making my throat burn. I could feel the dizziness starting to creep in.
She fiddled with her watermelon-colored hair streaks, clearly trying to ignore my erratic behavior. “What’s your problem?” she muttered, a snarky edge to her voice.
Her words struck a nerve. I could feel the simmering frustration building in my chest as I scanned the sidewalk behind her, trying to plot my escape. She snapped her fingers in front of me, the sound sharp and grating. My gaze drifted to those ridiculous nails again. How the hell could she even snap with those?
“Oh, just ignore me then,” she huffed, crossing her arms like a child denied a toy.
“Excuse me.” I pointed past her shoulder, ready to step around her, but she moved in front of me again.
“I don’t think you understand my situation,” I said flatly, my voice growing more stern, my eyes locking onto hers. “What point are you trying to make here?”
“You’re not the only person who needs to get somewhere,” she shot back, her voice rising in pitch.
“Oh,” I let out a dry laugh, barely holding back my irritation. “You’re going to step away.”
She smirked, her grin spreading slowly, clearly amused by my seriousness. “What, is someone dying?”
“Yes.” I pushed past her, my shoulder brushing hers as I forced my way through.
YOU ARE READING
Subdue-X
RandomAna's world is turned upside down when she becomes entangled in a deadly drug trial, orchestrated by someone she trusted. As she fights to survive the harrowing ordeal, Ana's relationship with Christian is tested to its limits. Amidst their struggle...
