eyes my way. “Yes, why?”
“Dammit, Freedom, I’m sensitive to coconut,” I grit through clenched teeth as I grab my carry-on bag from beneath my seat and start to riffle through it.
“What do you mean sensitive to it?”
Ignoring her question, I look through my bag for the small ziplock I bring, containing some common over the counter medicines. Tylenol, Motrin, cough drops, Neosporin, and Tums. I pop an antacid out of the container and throw it in my mouth, chewing rapidly. I glance down in my bag once more, but don’t find what I’m really looking for.
“What’s happening?” she asks, taking my hand in hers, halting my frantic movements. Her skin is warm, her eyes full of concern as she looks over at me.
“I’ve always been sensitive to coconut.”
“I didn’t know. What does that mean?”
My stomach rumbles and I swallow the extra saliva gathering in my mouth. This isn’t good. “It means I need to go and get something for my stomach,” I state just as my belly turns angry. There’s no way I’ll have time to get to the store before I hit the bathroom, and if there’s one thing I know, I’ll need to find the bathroom fast. Everything in my body is about to come out—very quickly—and I definitely don’t want to be here when it happens.
I stand up, wishing I was at home and as far away from Freedom and her coconut as possible. Unfortunately, the only place I’m going is the public bathroom, in which I will expunge all of my bodily fluids from my ass, while in a multi-stall public bathroom.
Fun.
“I’ll help!” she hollers, surely drawing the attention of everyone around us, as she grabs our bags and pulls me through the gathering crowd at our gate. Even in my pre-disaster ass state, I still wish she’d keep her voice down and her hands to herself. Her touch just…affects me.
“I’m fine, Freedom,” I mumble, yet still allowing her to pull me through the mob.
She stops in front of the bathroom. “You go take care of your problem, and I’ll run down and get some Pepto or something,” she states loudly before disappearing into the crowd, my bag still in her hand.
I’m about to holler after her when my stomach not-so-subtly reminds me that the bathroom usage is imminent. I make my way inside, finding an available stall in the back of the large room avoiding eye contact as I go. There’s no way to hide what’s about to happen, and I can already feel the embarrassment burn my face. My stomach turns once more, an angry howl echoing off the concrete walls, as I lock myself in my stall.
“Attention passengers, American Airlines flight 4382, nonstop service to Las Vegas, will being boarding in five minutes. Please make your way to gate twenty-three for boarding.”
I drop my drawers and pray for a swift death.
Chapter Four
Freedom
I grab everything I can from the small pharmacy selection available.
Everything.
How was I supposed to know he had a sensitivity to coconut? I mean, who actually gets the squirts from coconut? I pull out my phone, carefully juggling all of the over-the-counter products in my arms, and Google search coconut allergies. It’s actually quite rare, however a person can be sensitive to just about anything. Figures Samuel would be sensitive to one of my favorite add-on ingredients.
The young girl at the counter seems completely unfazed by my wide selection of products on the counter and slowly starts to scan. This is also the time when I hear our flight announce the pre-board process is about to begin over the intercom. I grab two bottles of water from the cooler beside the counter, ignore the astronomical dollar amount on the small cash register screen, and swipe my card. The girl throws my products in a bag and I take off, almost leaving our luggage behind.
I juggle my way quickly to the bathroom where I left Samuel and wait. They announce the boarding of our flight, beginning with first-class passengers. No way in Hell’s half acre could I ever afford a first-class ticket. No, I’m stuck in coach. In the back. The way back.
Watching our gate, they start to call the next series of passengers to board. I’m getting a little nervous we’ll miss our flight when Samuel finally appears. He’s gray and sweating a bit, but he’s alive. I’d feel really bad if I killed my best friend’s hot older brother the day before her wedding. “You okay, champ?”
Samuel doesn’t say anything but