Stand By Me

doce | promise

❋

LAUREL

I WAS ALWAYS THE SEMI-IMPULSIVE ONE.

              Semi-impulsive meaning I wasn't going to be the first one to jump off a cliff any time soon, but if I saw someone else do it before me, I'd definitely be running to be next. Semi-impulsive meaning I would apply to thirteen safe universities and only one reach school, because rejection in any form killed me. Semi-impulsive meaning half-willing, half-in, and half-on-board.

               Maybe my definitions were blurred in another country, but somehow, semi-impulsive didn't strike me as automatically agreeing to chauffeur the most high-profile bachelor in all of Spain, with whom I had only known through tabloids and the other side of the television screen. No, semi-impulsive was not the word to describe it. Maybe downright-insane was the better choice.

           And yet, here he was, standing alongside me in a dimly lit alleyway behind the hotel kitchens. He looked anything but a lone Prince. His gray hoodie had multiple pieces of lint stuck to it and his khaki pants were in desperate need of a good iron. Leaning against the side of the hotel dumpster with his head dropped low and his hands shoved deep into his pockets, he resembled an ordinary guy who was just exhausted.

                 He glanced up, practically feeling my gaze being focused on him. When he met my gaze, a corner of his mouth tugged up slightly in a tired smile. "Did you text your friend?"

              "Yeah, he should be here in a couple of minutes," I nodded, encircling my phone with my clammy hands. My anxiety was shooting through the roof. What exactly would I say to Louis and Isabel when they pick us up? Oh hi, I picked up the Prince on the way out of work. Mind if we go to Barcelona six hours away real quick?

                 "Great, the sooner we get out of these streets, the better."

                 "If it makes you feel any better, from the angle where I'm standing, you barely look like the Prince," I offered. "You just look like some guy that just skipped class."

          He grinned. "Perfecto. That's the plan. You're sure your friend doesn't mind driving us to Barcelona?"

               I bit my bottom lip and force a nod, completely lying. I look down at my phone at the recent texts to Louis and Isabel in our classified, completely chaotic group message.

            LAUREL: SOS. SOS. SOS!

            ISABEL: what's wrong babe

            LOUIS: did you get fired already? that's a record

            LAUREL: hush. I need you guys. NOW.

            ISABEL: what is it? i'm in a study group

            LAUREL: currently stranded in an emergency. Please pick me up!

            LOUIS: Alright, send me your location.

            LOUIS: Isabel, that test can wait, I can come by your dorm in like 40 seconds. On our way, Laurel!

          So maybe I had skimmed over some key details, but there was no time. I had it all planned out in my head. Today was Thursday afternoon. Classes start back up for the second half of the semester on Monday, and with Barcelona only six hours away, I would have more than enough time to get back, get the cash, fund my dead scholarship, and continue my education, and possibly – find Eli Santos while there. But the sun was already going down, and Louis wasn't a night driver – he'd expressed that to us multiple times that his vision was decreasing slightly and squinting at night was the last thing he needed for his eyesight.