I'll Meet You There

Chapter 4

So apparently Lane is filthy rich. He told my parents that Surf Style and one big family. He's flying his private plane somewhere.

No family members are coming.

It's four in the morning. I've just gotten out of the shower.

I put a bra on, and a black tank top, and a pair of sweats. I throw my hair in a bun and put on thongs. Or flip flops, in America.

I brush my teeth and eat a quick breakfast, and then I let Mom panic over my packing, and Dad drives me to Surf Style.

There's one person sitting on the steps.

It's 4:45am.

Liam.

I sigh.

"Is that him?" Dad asks.

I nod, sighing.

"Well, have fun."

"Okay."

I get out and shut the door. I grab my suitcase.

He's wearing a pair of sweats and a white t-shirt.

I shut the trunk.

"Call when you land." Dad says.
"Okay."

He rolls the window up and drives away.

I sit on the steps as far from Liam as I can get.

Neither one of us speaks.

"Do you know where we're going?" he finally asks.

"No." I mutter.

He doesn't reply.

A few seconds later, he asks, "Did they call your parents?"

"Yeah."

He nods.

We sit in silence.

Grace comes next, and then Jackson and Lucas.

Slowly, everyone starts arriving.

Lane is last to show up, in a fucking bus.

"We're driving?" Liam asks.

"No. That's actually impossible, unless we had a boat. We're flying. Get in."

All of us get on the bus.

We go to sit wherever.

"No, there's assigned seats. Abigail, you're there, against the window.

I sit and sit down. "Liam, you're next to her."

"No."

"Yes." Lane says. "Sit."

Liam grits his teeth and sits down next to me, trying to scoot as far from me as he can.

He sits everyone next to everyone that hates each other, and we start driving.

The bus is dead silent.

I'm as close to the window as I can get.

We drive across the bridge to Clearwater and then all the way down Gulf to Bay to the Courtney Campbell.

We drive all the way across the bridge, onto the interstate and go to the Tampa International Airport.

The bus drops us off out front and we get out, dragging our bag behind us.

"Does anyone who isn't a manager have parents that told us where we're going?" Jackson asks hopefully.

"Nope." Everyone sighs.