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36 | florida!!! | part one

Maybe it was a little too on the nose that Eddie ran away from San Francisco by catching a plane to an airport literally named MIA.

Eddie had been to Miami before. She had told people she was leaving the last time she went. And had booked a hotel room in advance. A suitcase, too.

That time, Eddie was running on no sleep, half a protein bar that she didn't bother checking the expiry date on when she found it tucked into a pocket of her poorly packed backpack, and the hope that somewhere, a hotel had a vacancy that she could take advantage of.

There was only one person in the world she wanted to talk to at that moment and for the first time in likely 30 years, it wasn't one of her sisters or Rush Tua. Crazier things had happened. At least she got a discount on her flight to Florida. Frequent runaway miles and all.

Taking her phone off airplane mode was a ridiculous thing to do in a time of stress. All it led to was a thousand—okay, maybe over 30 but below 40—texts coming in all at the same time from various people in her life that she ditched to run across the country. She didn't know how she'd feel if she were trying to get a hold of someone and her texts weren't even delivering. To make matters worse, the first 25 were split between August and Axel. The rest were split between Coach, Rush, Moxie, Mick, Cruella, Indy, Stevie, and Maverick. A ridiculous thing to ask when her friends lived all over the continent—the world, depending on where Maverick was at any given time.

Maybe Eddie shouldn't have gone to the airport three hours early. Maybe it was silly to steal a backpack from her Axel and stuff it with all the clothes she'd moved into his apartment in the time she'd been there. Maybe she shouldn't have booked a flight that left at five in the morning. Maybe she should've had Axel drive her to SFO instead of grabbing a taxi and pretending she wasn't who she really was. That would've meant being emotionally mature and good at admitting whatever she was feeling. That would have meant telling him about the text message about someone breaking into her apartment. Axel would've insisted on calling the police, Eddie would've insisted on moving to Europe and never showing her face in public ever again.

A couple girls taking a selfie in Miami Marlins jerseys with the flash on made her heart skip a beat. Eddie offered to take the photo for them, took a couple, and promptly flagged down a taxi outside. If she used her Uber, she had a sick feeling in her stomach that someone would find her hotel room when she eventually got one.

"Hey, darling." Her one piece of luck in the last couple days was that her taxi driver was a woman. "Where are you off to?"

"The Autodome," Eddie said. She dropped the backpack into the seat beside her. "If that's okay."

"Sweetie, I'd drive you for hours if you needed it," she replied. "You goin' to the Grand Prix?"

"Something like that," Eddie said. She did have a ticket for it, she'd even paid for it with her own money. The only person she wanted to see was too nice for his own good and would've blabbed to all his worried friends where she was if she'd warned him she was coming.

"Oh, I would've loved to go." She flicked her signal on and pulled away from the airport.

"Big F1 fan?"

"Windsor's my team," she said. Pointed to the Windsor racing air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror. "I just love that Brendon Ellis. Such an incredible driver to watch. Sometimes it's like he's psychic on those tracks—lightnin' fast. I always feel tickled pink when he's in my city. He's got such a great pole position, I think he's going to take it easily. Who are you rootin' for, sweetie?"