Flip the Colleague [Flip Zimmerman]

Ch 8: Road Trip

Three weeks had passed since you and Flip had last seen each other. You stayed in contact almost daily through text, but your phone calls had grown sparse and noticeably shorter. There had been no repeat of that first night away - no late calls, no stolen moments. A quiet suspicion began to creep in that something, or someone, was distracting him. You had never felt jealousy like this before, and it took a brutal toll on your ego.

Thankfully, Sara was flying in from Chicago that day to spend an entire week with you, so you did your best to shove the Flip drama aside and focus on that instead.

You pulled up to the airport arrivals zone and spotted Sara immediately, looking exactly as you remembered her: dark, shoulder-length hair, a perfect olive complexion, dressed head-to-toe in black with sunglasses shielding her dark, heavily lined eyes. She saw you right away and broke into a wide smile, lifting her hand in a wave. You quickly put the car in park, jumped out, and ran to her, wrapping her in a tight embrace.

"YAY!! I'm soooo happy you're here!" you cheered, bouncing up and down.

"I am so glad to see you, and to be off that damn plane! Ugh, I hate turbulence. I've never prayed so much in my life, and I'm an atheist," she went on, lighting a much-needed cigarette. "So! What's on the agenda?"

"Well, I thought we could drop your stuff off at my shitty apartment first. Then I can show you where I work... maybe introduce you to my drunk boss... then probably dinner wherever you want!" you offered in a sarcastically upbeat tone.

She stared at you for a moment, clearly unimpressed, taking a long drag from her cigarette. Then she suddenly squealed, "...Let's do it!"

No one understood you like Sara. She was the kind of friend who never needed daily calls or texts to prove loyalty. You were always there for each other, through thick and thin, and could pick right back up where you left off, even if weeks had passed without speaking. She was confident, unapologetically herself, and gave zero fucks about what anyone thought. Her advice was always solid, even when it came wrapped in tough love. She had your back, always, and wasn't afraid to tell you when you were being unreasonable. Basically, if someone ever crossed you, Sara was both the angel and the devil on your shoulders: one whispering reason, the other ready to go to war.

"Holy shit, what is that smell?" Sara scrunched her nose as she stepped farther into your apartment.

"Dammit... you can still smell it? Ugh. I tried getting rid of it, but maybe I need to light some candles." You rummaged through half-unpacked boxes, already knowing you wouldn't find any.

"Yeah... or we could just light this?" Sara said mischievously, pulling a joint from her purse.

"How on earth did you get that through security?" you asked, collapsing onto the sofa beside her, delighted she'd brought the good stuff.