Love on the Horizon ✎

6

It's Thursday afternoon and I'm rushing around my bedroom trying to figure out what I'm missing. My red suitcase is lying open on my bed, content haphazardly strewn around inside it.

Our flight to Florida is at eight-thirty and I know I shouldn't be stressing so instead I'm cursing myself for not finishing packing yesterday. I'm supposed to be at Phoebe's place in thirty minutes.

Jess keeps shouting encouraging comments from the couch, but I barely hear what she says. Phoebe texted me fifteen minutes ago asking about my progress, but I've been too busy to respond. If I don't, she'll be calling soon so I take a deep breath, stay rooted in my place in front of my closet and type a quick reply to her that all is good.

-On a scale of 10-10 how stressed are you?

I sigh at Phoebe's reply. She knows me too damn well.

-I keep thinking I've forgotten something... I text back and only have to wait seconds before a reply comes back.

-Calm your tits. Whatever it is, we can probably buy it down there.

I grumble at my phone and throw it on the bed. Staring down into the mess in my suitcase I go over the items.

My only red and white striped bikini – we'll be buying more on the trip.

Three pairs of shorts.

Three tops and t-shirts.

Six dresses both casual daytime and more formal.

A nice comfy cardigan because apparently it can get rather cold on board at night and in the early mornings despite being in the tropics. I rearrange the clothes and fold the dresses as neatly as I can to minimize wrinkles.

Sunblock, sunglasses, phone charger, my Kindle stocked with romance novels and its charger, painkillers and vitamins. Then there are my toiletries that are still in the bathroom.

I rush out there and check my bag. Razor, travel-sized shampoo and conditioner, body lotion, toothbrush and toothpaste, mascara, eyeliner, some warm colored eyeshadow. I don't plan to get all dolled up, so I keep the make-up to a minimum. No doubt Phoebe has packed more than me in that department so if anything, I can probably borrow some of hers if I need to.

I grab the toilet bag and run back into my room.

"You're stressing me out!" Jess calls out as I rush by her. I don't reply. I need to stay focused.

I think I got it all. I check my handbag for my wallet, passport and other vital small things. And that's it. I think I'm done packing.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed I try and calm my rapid heartrate.

I close my suitcase and only struggle a little as I try to zip it up. To minimize travel time, we're only taking carry-on luggage with us on the plane. Thankfully, summer clothing does not take up as much space as winter clothes.

Shoes!

I unzip the suitcase and run to my closet to check what I can bring of footwear.

The pair of trainers that I'll be wearing on the trip down, two different types of sandals and a pair of heels for the dancing. I look at my collection of pumps and go for a black studded pair where the heel isn't too tall and won't kill me after an hour of wearing them.

I press them down on top of the clothes, trying not to mess it up too much.

I'm only ten minutes late when I arrive outside of Phoebe's apartment building. She's waiting outside with her own green carry-on suitcase, her breath creating white fog in the chilly evening air.

"Finally," she says when I'm close enough.

We take an Uber to the airport and of course we arrive in plenty of time for our flight.

"Okay I'm starving. After check-in we need to feed me," Phoebe says as we walk into the terminal. Only a few people are waiting in line at the check-in counter and security is a breeze so when we get into the terminal itself, we still have a good hour before our flight should be called.

"Food!" Phoebe moans and I look around at our options.

"Burgers, pizza, sandwiches, what do you want?" I ask. Apparently, most of our options are simply big fast-food chains.

"I could go for a solid chicken and bacon sandwich," Phoebe says, practically salivating. I follow my hunger-driven friend to the sandwich shop and we each order a meal that comes with a bag of chips and a drink.

"Gross, salt and vinegar?" Phoebe wrinkles her nose at my choice of chips.

"Shut it, they are incredible," I defend myself and my chips. It's definitely not a flavor for everyone, but I can't get enough of them. That tingling sensation when you've eaten too many, so it feels like the vinegar is burning a hole through your tongue. I love it.

Phoebe chooses a classic barbeque flavor and we both go for diet cokes. We have time to sit and eat our dinners before the large screens call us to the gate for boarding.

It's not a full flight tonight, more like half-full and I wonder, as I look at the other passengers, whether any of them are also going on a cruise tomorrow.

The middle-aged couple sitting two rows behind us are bickering in hushed voices and they look like they are the sort of couple that go on holiday every year, but barely speak to each other while they're away.

There's a young woman, close to our age sat in front of us. She's flying solo and I could picture her as a lone traveler, making new friends as she travels the world and maybe has an exotic lover at every destination.

The flight is nearly three hours long so as soon as we've stowed our suitcases and fastened our seatbelts, I pull out my fully charged Kindle. I downloaded a few new contemporary romance books and have been dying to start The Unhoneymooners by Christina Lauren.

"See you in Florida," Phoebe says as she watches me get comfortable with my e-book. I smile at her and as she puts her headphones in, I immerse myself in my book.

It's just past midnight when we check into our motel near the airport. Port Everglades, the place we're boarding the cruise is only two miles away, so it will be a quick drive tomorrow, meaning less stress and more time for breakfast.

We both drag our feet into the room like zombies. It's a typical motel room, nothing fancy with two twin beds, a TV, small bathroom and a kitchenette off to the side. I park my suitcase and bag on the bed closest to the door, but I don't lie down on it. If I do, I won't get up again until tomorrow morning and I have flight breath, so with great difficult and strain I open my case and find my toilet bag, which I thankfully put on top when I packed last night.

Phoebe hasn't even mustered to open her own bag yet so her objections to use the bathroom first are invalid and I go in and shut the door. There's a musty odor in here so I won't waste too much time looking at my dreary reflection. I pee and as I start brushing my teeth, I open the door to let Phoebe inside. She proceeds to pee in front of me like it's no big deal, which it isn't.

"I'm so tired," she says, her eyes barely staying open as she's sat on the toilet. If she falls asleep there, I will not drag her bare-naked ass to bed. Best friend privileges must end somewhere, right?

"Mmhm," I simply reply, mouth full of foamy spearmint toothpaste.

Still awake, Phoebe washes her hands and I spit and rinse my teeth as she leaves and comes back with her own toothbrush.

With the lights out and both of us in bed I try and get comfortable, though there's a spring in the mattress that's digging into my left butt cheek. I'm glad it's just one night and beg to the cruise gods that the beds onboard are better than this.

"Pheebs?"

A muffled reply from the other bed lets me know she's not entirely gone yet.

"I have a feeling this will be a memorable trip."

A light snoring is all the reply I get, and I close my eyes and let sleep consume me.