Game Theory × NH

010 | neon

× Horan

It was the last place I wanted to be on a Sunday night.

I could have been at the gym, or the football field, or the chemistry lab, or in my hall sleeping. But instead, crying babies filled my ears, people practically sprinting to get to their flight, and parents who didn't know how to control their children stood with bags under their eyes and hair a mess. People were lined up at the check in desk with suitcases and baggage. In the arrivals lounge, there was a curious mixture of bored and excited people. Men in suits talked loudly on their phones, not caring who overhears them, and couples saying their goodbyes with a kiss.

There were plasma screens of arrival and departure times on the wall of the airport. An abstract sculpture the size of a blimp above everyone's head looked heavy enough to create an earth quake if it were to fall. In the background, soft classical music played.

It all pissed me off.

I couldn't believe Coach talked me into doing this. He claimed that he had paper work to do, but I knew he hated airports just as much as I did. He was probably at his house at that very moment laughing at me because I didn't have a choice in the matter.

I wasn't even sure what exit she would be coming out of, and I didn't have the patience to ask someone or to look to see California on the screen. I was going to wait one more minute - okay, five more minutes - and if she didn't show, I was just going to leave. She could fend for herself in the city like a big girl; she was going to have to at some point, anyways.

Right when I was about to leave, I saw her caramel brown hair through the throng of people. It was hidden under a knitted gray beanie as it fell in loose curls down her back. A white V-neck was under a black bomber jacket and she had on gray sweatpants with her last name printed in white down her leg. A rolling suitcase was following after her along with a backpack, a large duffle bag over her shoulder, and a drawstring pouch in her hand. It didn't look like she was having any luck trying to maneuver them.

Lynn was looking around, figuring out where to go, I was sure. I saw her pull out her phone, probably to call Coach, but I quickly made my way over to her before she had the chance. I weaved through bodies of business men and around obnoxious kids until I knew she was in hearing distance.

"Hey!" I shouted as I broke through the people. "Princess!"

Lynn looked up from her phone and around the terminal until her deep blue eyes landed on me. Her eyebrows furrowed as she saw me walking up to her.

"I thought..." she paused. Her mouth tipped down into an understandable frown. "I thought Coach Mathews was going to come get me?"

"Plans changed. Believe me, I don't like the situation either," I told her stonily. I held up my car keys in her face and jingled them. "Now let's go before my night is completely ruined."

I started walking away, stuffing my hands in my pockets. Maybe if I was lucky, I could be back at campus by nine and still have time to kick some goals before I needed to get my sleep for Monday morning classes.

"Wait!" Lynn shouted after me angrily. "Are you not going to help me?" she accused, pulling the rolling suitcase to a stop beside her and dropped the large bag from her shoulder. It fell to the ground with an odd clank that made me wonder what the fuck she packed.

"Uh, no," I stated simply and continued walking. I heard her groan and say how much of a dick I was under her breath from behind me, but I kept going, making my way out of Heathrow Airport as fast as I could. My only responsibility was to get her safe to campus, not all her shit.