...Schoephoester Road, USA

171 21 17
                                    

I went backwards in time. I'm so fucking exhausted and I'm ready to die. Technically, I should be getting dinner right now.

I stop walking and step to the side. Because for some reason, that bothers me a lot. 'I should be getting dinner right now.' Steve'd invite Jessie over and we'd order takeaway. Maybe Gavin'd come over. Maybe we'd catch a train to a restaurant somewhere in the City.

Last night was the last time I'd sleep in my own bed. It was an amazing bed.

Or have my own room.

But why was I thinking about all this now?

I sit down on the floor with my bags and sigh, running my hands through my hair. I know I wanted to do this, but...I wish I really thought about this before I left. If dating Murph was the biggest thing I'd ever done, this was trying to push a planet into a fucking sun with my bare hands.

I unlock my phone and stare at the messages on it. My phone's not connected to the airport WiFi, but Murph's last messages show up onscreen. They're all sweet, wishing me safe passage and that he'd be here to get me. No taxi. It'd be him.

Here.

With me.

I let out a shaking breath and try to connect to the airport's WiFi. When it connects, my phone's spammed with messages from Murph.

Are you okay?
Let me know when your plane's landed
I'm here :)
It says your plane landed.
TOMMY COME ON I MISS YOU
I WANT TO HUG YOU
WHY DIDN'T YOU LET ME COME AND VISIT YOU
I mean, I know why, but STILL
Did you check any bags?
GO GET THEM I MISS YOU

Oh my God. Murph. Stop.

I call him.

"Are you here?" he shouts. The way he says it makes me think he's bouncing.

"No, I'm calling you from beyond the grave."

"Tommy!" he shrieks. "Don't joke about that! I once read a story where this guy's fiancé got detained for too long at Dublin and he missed his flight by mere minutes!" He scoffs, but the sound itself is cute. "That'd be gut-wrenching to find that out."

"Well, if that did happen, wouldn't I of called you in Dublin? Not...like, 9 hours ago?"

I hear Murph inhale, and then whisper, "Maybe."

I chuckle. "I have my shit, by the way."

"Good. Now come ooooon," he whines. "I miss you."

"You don't get to say that anymore."

"...no, I'll still say it."

"Gross."

I stand up and grab my shit. "I'll be there in a second, okay?"

"Okay. I'm standing by..."

"Luv, I'll find you," I say, stepping through the doors to the arrival hall.

"How?"

And I see him from across the room. He's got a blue t-shirt over an opened grey button down and tan shorts on. He's wearing flip flops, and his toes still look weird to me. And his smart black glasses, in my opinion, are just wrong for the moment. He should've gone for the turtle shell ones.

"Because you're hard to miss. Look left."

He looks left, but his eyes skims pass and turns all the way around.

"Luv – "

"What are you wearing?" He begins another turn-around, this time starting the wrong way.

My lost Pup is so amazing. "Murph, other way."

He turns around and catches sight of me walking towards him. A big toothy smile spreads and he trots over, flip flops smacking the ground. Murph stops half a foot from me while I drop my stuff.

"Hi," he breathes, voice shaking. As soon as my backpack hits the floor, Murph snakes his arms around my neck. "You're here," he whispers.

I inhale and hug him back. "Sorry if I made you wait."

He pulls back and wipes his eyes, smiling. "This wait was more than worth it."

I blush. I hate it when he gets mushy.

But I smile back and wipe his eyes. "C'mon, now. Do you really want to be crying now?"

"I'm...happy," he mutters, and hugs me again. "It feels like eons ago when we were last in the same place together."

I know.

"Okay, I have all my shit." I lean down for my backpack. "Did you park your aunt's car?"

Murph grabs one of my duffel bags and smiles. It's a forced one. "Yeah...about that..."

I blink. "What, did you get, like, an Uber or something?"

He inhales and cocks his head. "No..."

And then I see Lizzie taking pictures from behind a line of people.

"Hey." I look back at him. "Did you want me to come get you?"

"Yeah, but – "

"You didn't want to take a taxi to my house?"

I sigh. "Wh – no, but - "

"I'm sorry. It's for an hour, and you have my full permission to swear at her and ignore her." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out an old-ass iPod. "I...made a playlist for you, if you want to ignore her together in the car."

Okay, he made up for it.

So we walk over to Lizzie, whose phone has been put away, and she sniffs. "Thomas," she says, like she's greeting an old enemy.

"Lizzie."

"It's. Elizabeth." She dramatically scoffs and turns away. "Fucking tsunderes."

I'm so happy I still don't know what that is.

Murph's hand snakes into mine. "You okay?"

I squeeze his hand. "Only if you're there to stop me from ripping her head off."

He laughs, and we trail behind her out of the terminal.

And the air's never felt so fresh.

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