𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐈 | 𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔

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November 2nd 2018

ZAHRA NICHOLS

I was lucky enough to have scored a direct flight to Brazil. The day before we left, I made the drive out to LA and crashed at Amara's place for the night, knowing we'd be taking off together the next morning. It's nice having her close; the thought of going through a sixteen-hour flight alone was not something I wanted to experience.

Amara and I kept each other entertained throughout the long flight. We synchronized our in-flight movies and watched them back-to-back.

Once we landed, we navigated our way through the airport, our luggage in tow. "Where is this guy?" Amara asked, scanning the crowded terminal. "I'm not sure, but he sent me his location. Now we're just following the dot on the map," I replied, trying to figure out where Charles was waiting for us.

Finally, we caught sight of Charles waiting for us near the exit. He was leaning against a pillar, looking at his phone. "There he is!" Amara exclaimed, and we rushed faster to meet him.

"Welcome to Brazil!" Charles greeted us with open arms, his warm, genuine smile lighting up his face. "Feels like it's been ages. God, I miss thirdwheeling!" Amara exclaimed, brining Charles in close for a hug. Once they pulled out, I made my way over to him. We took a quick look to scan each other, but couldn't resist. "Hey!" I chuckled, and he brought me in for a hug too.

Charles led us over to his car and loaded our luggage into the trunk. I hopped into the passenger seat, while Amara made herself comfortable in the back. As we settled in, Amara leaned forward and showed Charles a location on her phone. "Here's the address," she said, and Charles quickly typed it into the GPS.

"I thought we were counting on Charles to show us around," I said, intrigued. "Oh, I had a little something planned for us," Amara replied with a sly grin. Soon enough, Charles started the engine, and we were off.

The windows were down, letting the breeze flow through the car, and the music was up loud. Before long, we found ourselves belting to Kali Uchis' "After The Storm" at the top of our lungs. I fucking love Kali Uchis. When the song ended, we pulled up to a parking lot, and Charles looked at Amara slightly confused.

"Amara, where are we?" Charles asked. "Grab your shit, we're taking a little walk," Amara announced as she forced us out of the car. We followed her, each carrying our luggage, as she led us down a path.

The path took us to a boat dock, and Amara stopped abruptly in front of a large, elegant yacht. "This one's ours," she announced proudly. "You got us a fucking yacht?" I exclaimed in disbelief. It was spacious—not the mega-yachts reserved for billionaire parties, but definitely bigger than your average boat.

"Well, it's a rental! I messaged one of Charles' friends, who happens to have a boating license, and he hooked us up with a great deal," Amara explained, very cheerily. "Also, no worries about the cost; my grandma just loaded up my account, so we're good!"

Charles and I exchanged amused glances as Amara cheerfully boarded the yacht. We followed her to the main room of the boat. Amara threw herself onto a couch, pulled out her phone, and announced, "Rory and Emmy's flights just landed; they'll be here soon."

"Let me update my friends on where we are," Charles said before stepping aside to make a quick call. Amara and I decided to slip into something more comfortable. I picked out a sleeveless white and blue floral mini dress, Amara went for a matching baby pink set—a tiny skirt and tube top.