thirty-six hours with you | georgenotfound x reader

9. lobby waiting

The hotel had a little drink station of tea and coffee for guests. After my recurring nightmare, I wasn't able to go back to sleep, so I smiled at the sight of caffeine this morning. 

The cup of steaming liquid warms my hands despite the lobby's revolving door blowing cool air through the room. I pick a table away from the breeze and sit with my bags, ready to go.

At 7:55, I glance at the opening elevator doors. An old man walks through the doors, and, unless he's magically aged fifty years overnight, I don't see George anywhere in sight.

I sip my coffee, attempting to force myself to wake up. I didn't fall back asleep after my nightmare. Usually I consider it a good thing, but today it worries me for the long drive. Twelve hours of driving a day is a lot for one person, let alone someone without sleep.

Tommy texts a message in a group chat, but I don't read it right away. I'm not in Florida yet, so a Florida meet up is not a stress on my mind.

8:10 passes, and I start to get annoyed. For somebody so confident in themselves getting here on time, George sure doesn't seem to be in the lobby.

Quackity calls at 8:14.

"George is a liar, he is untrustworthy and unreliable," I say as soon as I answer the phone.

"Well, that's a lot for it to be so early in the morning." Quackity chuckles.

"He said he was going to be here at 7:55," I continue, "and guess what?"

"It's 8:15?" he guesses.

"Yes, it is 8:15." I huff, glad to have been able to rant about that. "I don't even have his number to ask if he's up; he said I wouldn't need it." I take a sip of my coffee. "And don't even get me started on his lack of directional skills."

"Sounds like your road trip is going great," Quackity infers, "I'm guessing that means you guys won't be doing the teasers for Tommy's vlog?"

My brows furrow. "What?"

"Tommy texted saying he needs a few people to do teasers, but we have to coordinate before everything is posted," he explains, "I wasn't going to do one, but Tommy really wanted you and George in one."

"I can't even get him down in the lobby at a specific time," I say, "How will we be able to coordinate that?"

"It's just a picture or a tweet."

"It's 8:19 now," was all I said for explanation.

"It's only like twenty minutes," Quackity attempts to defend George, "That's like nothing for thirty-six hours."

"Except that if we got on the road earlier," I say, "then we would be twenty minutes closer to never speaking again."

"You don't mean that."

"Uh, yeah, I do actually," I admit, "He's reached my limits of being annoyed."

First, he led me off the map to steal an ottoman from his Great Aunt, sorry, Great-Kinda-Aunt. Then, he told me he couldn't actually drive for any section of this drive. And now he's not even in the hotel lobby when he said he would be.

I can handle not getting along with someone. I can be forced to talk to them, get to know them, and I'll try my best to be nice.

But George? No, I've given up on George. If Dream wasn't paying for this whole trip, I would've already dropped George off on the side of the road.

"Just give him a chance," Quackity tries one last time.

I roll my eyes. "He has twenty-four hours of a car ride left, then I'm done."