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We fell into each other's arms, me cursing her for the prank, her laughing gleefully as she hugged me to her.
I pulled back to look into her eyes.
“We’re really doing this?”
“Looks like it.” I said with a smile.
“We’re moving to Switzerland, bitch!”
Everything moved quickly after that. Our official acceptances were out that day, the transfers confirmed and our passport paperwork filed.
When it came time to leave, we didn’t have much to pack, each of us bringing only one suitcase. The scholarship was incredibly comprehensive, covering the flights and tuition fully and providing a healthy monthly stipend for our discretionary use, so we’d be able to buy things once we got there.
We’d kissed our moms, hugged Thayer’s brother, and headed to the airport where we’d gotten on a flight to New York City, followed by our connecting flight to Geneva.
???
2.
Bellamy
As the wheels touch down on the tarmac, Thayer lets out a small sigh of relief.
“Thank god that’s over.”
Thayer doesn’t do well with tight spaces. Having to spend six hours in a flying sardine can, crunched into seat 42A with my head on her shoulder and apparently my drool on her shirt, couldn’t have been easy for her. She’s a trooper.
She doesn’t look worse for wear from this trip, though. She’s gathering her long, silver hair into a high ponytail, the bracelets on her slim wrist clanging together as she does so. Her eyes, almond-shaped and a startling shade of blue, don’t carry the signs of sleep like I’m sure mine do.
As she tightens her ponytail, I can’t help but stare. Years of sports and a sheer natural athleticism have lent a grace to her movements that I wish I had. She exudes power, confidence, and grace with everything she does. She scrunches her button nose and sticks her tongue out in my direction when she catches me staring.
“Who’s picking us up, again?”
I look down at the information I stored in my Notes app. “I’m absolutely going to butcher this, but her name is Sixtine Tellier.”
“Like the number?” She asks as we exit the plane and make our way to border control. “I wonder how she got stuck with tour guide slash chaperone duty.”
“Like the chapel. Maybe she was bored and volunteered.”
“Rich people don’t get bored. They just go ride an ostrich or kill poor people for sport if they start to feel boredom.”
I pause. “Squid Gamesreference?
“Yup.”
Once we clear border patrol, we head towards baggage claim.
“I’m going to call my mom quickly and let her know we landed.” I say to Thayer as we stand in front of the carousel.
“Say hi to her from me. I’m going to call Carter.”
I don’t say anything in response, but I don’t need to. She knows what I think.
Carter is Thayer’s boyfriend of two years. Two months ago, during “a moment of extreme intoxication” Carter “made a mistake” and slept with a girl but “it meant nothing”. To add insult to injury, the girl was a rival of Thayer’s on an opposing soccer team. She’d seen him in the stands cheering for her at their games.
Bitch.
The way Carter had described it to her — absolving himself of all responsibility in the process — you’d have thought he tripped and his dick just accidentally slipped into this girl.
