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Charlize and Imogen are standing in the aisle, beaming at me as I stare up at them.
“What the fuck?” I blurt out.
The lady behind me tuts.
“We didn’t want you to spend your birthday alone,” Charlz says, diving into the seat next to me and into my arms, squeezing me as she steps on my now wasted candy.
“And you were so sad about it when Charlz rang you,” Imogen adds, getting in on the act as we do a three-way hug. My heart constricts. “It killed us not to run over there and ruin the surprise early. You looked like you were about to go plummet off a bridge.”
“You fucking bitches!” I whisper-shout.
Charlize cackles as she picks up a M&M from under her ass and pops it in her mouth.
Imogen slides into the aisle seat and takes a photo of me on the verge of tears with Charlize doing the peace sign in front of my face.
“There’s one for the gram,” Imogen laughs. “If you could’ve seen your face when we yelled surprise.”
“What a classic.” Charlize laughs, as Imogen shows us the screenshot of me looking like a deer caught in headlights, and Charlize beaming at the camera with a M&M between her teeth.
“It killed me not to say anything,” Charlize goes on. “I was so sure we were busted; we could see you in the bar, getting tanked. By the way, it would have been cheaper to order the whole bottle.”
I shake my head, overwhelmed. “When did you cook this up?”
“Weeks ago.” Imogen beams. “You didn’t think we were going to let you be all alone, having a blast in Cancun without us, did you?”
Charlize elbows me in the ribs in jest. “The boys down there are gonna be sweet, babes. Don’t you worry, we’ve got some fun all lined up for you.”
I shake my head and wipe my tears away. I can’t believe it.
Fuck Jason Momoa.
I have the two best friends in the world.
We spend the whole trip laughing, joking, and eating all my pre-packed snacks.
Turns out the girls really did plan this out weeks ago. It may be a squeeze with us all in the hotel room with one bed, but we’ll manage.
Imogen already offered to sleep on the floor, bless her. All that matters is that they’re here, and I’m not a total jilted loser with no friends.
The good thing about my besties, too, is they will not let me wallow. Nope. No sitting around here feeling sorry for myself. Not on their watch.
We all watch the Jason Momoa movie together with copious amounts of free diet coke and packets of peanuts. When that’s over, I mention to them that James’ dad is on the same fucking plane, just ahead of us in snob-class.
“What are the chances?” Charlize winces. “I mean, talk about awkward.”
I hold a finger in the air. “He’s actually really cool. He’s also the one who told me about the resort. He and James don’t get along that well, so he’d probably be happy for me. Weirder things have happened.”
“You were always too good for him,” Charlize quips, annoyance in her tone. “It’s a dead giveaway the guy’s more into himself when he’s got more hair products than you do. And I mean, have you seen that bitch from his office? I’ve seen better heads on a mug of beer.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” I groan, like I need another visual of them doing the wild thing, all the while laughing at my expense.
“That’s it!” Imogen cries, clapping her hands together, making us both jump.
Charlize and I glance at one another, puzzled.
“What’s it?” I query.
“No more talking about fucking James!” she whisper-shouts at us.
