Last Flight Home [completed]

✈ xviii.

[ LOCAL TIME 17:01 ]

I sit across from Sabrina in the crowded food court with two large, greasy pizzas and two drinks in front of us. Her pale elbows rest against the table, and the stitches that run down her forearm, which were covered in a small layer of white gauze, sends chills up and down my spine.

"You can stop staring at it," She mumbles, taking her elbows off of the table.

I finish the slice of pizza in my hands and slurp down the rest of my fountain soda. "At least you'll have one hell of a story to tell when you get back to your family in New York."

She nods. "Do you think we'll ever get where we need to go?" She questions out of nowhere as she takes a bite of out of her pizza slice.

"Yeah, of course," I reply. "What makes you think we'll never get home?"

She shrugs. "This morning for me was a mess. My rental car wouldn't start, so I had to call a taxi to take me to the airport, which took forever because it's literally one of the busiest travel days of the year. I spilt coffee all over my white shirt before even getting here, so I had to change. Airport security flagged my luggage, which is going to be a mess when I open it in New York because they're searched through it. I bought the wrong plane ticket. We got stuck in a fucking elevator for two hours. I had to get stitches-"

I cut her off. "Yeah, but look at it this way. You want to get home. Despite all of those things that tried to stand in your way, here you are. Your ambition is going to get you home one way or another, I promise."

She nods. "Thanks, I needed to hear that."

We continue to eat our pizza in silence and at some point I decide to get refills on our drinks. When I come back, Sabrina has a huge, genuine smile on her face for the first time.

"I think I'm meant to take that flight to Boston with you. Maybe our paths were supposed to cross for a reason."

[- ✈ -]

Well, finally gave in and entered this story in the #wattys2017 :)