Inferno

four | the escapade pt. 2

My eyes flicker open to early rays peeking through the blinders, the Amsterdam sky nearly golden.

Staring into the abyss, I nearly forget where I am, until the weight on my back pushes me further down into the mattress. I'm choking, yes, but the scent of the sheets, of the person next to me doesn't make it all that bad. Although, I do push him off, getting a lazy mixture of a yawn and a groan out of him in the process. I muffle my laugher and observe him settle back into sleep, one of his hands clutching onto the pillow and the other flailing away on the sheets, searching for something. Or someone.

Before I can think more of it, my alarm buzzes and I rush to take care of it. I also shoot some texts to Janine, briefly explaining my detour in case she's back home from Marco's and looking for me– the probability slim since it's six thirty in the morning and her drinks last night were proportional to a comatose natured sleep.

With a look back to the heavy snorer and some more at the ripples in his spine every time he twists and turns, I'm off to change. I collect my dress from the carpeted floor and wonder how I'm going to get to Janine's to get my bags, in this thing. There's not much choice to my avail though, or so I think until I'm in the bathroom and my gaze lands on something of a folded grey fabric on the counter top. It's a T-shirt and track pants with polar bear art on them.

So I was right. Thankful for the merchandise from an otherwise very questionable corporation, I change into them and collect my belongings as I prepare to leave. My hand's on the door, but I turn still all of a sudden.

Leaving's never been an issue with me, so this feeling of incomplete business is startling, to say the least. Needed or not, I don't know, but I go back anyway to pick up a tissue, I scribble a bunch of words on it and leave it by his side.

It still feels like I'm forcing myself through it, which shouldn't be the case. Spain's something I am looking forward to since so many months, and this was just a slight turn in the journey. Chase Cameron was as good as a tide in my chaotic world; my attention on him fleeting, but enough to make me look beyond the mess for a while. I remind myself of it while looking past the cab's windows as the glass collects mist from spattering rain.

Back at Janine's, it takes me some trial and error before I find the plant pot with the extra pair of keys under it. As expected, she's not home yet, so I take off after getting into normal clothes and preparing a little something to help her nurse the oncoming hangover. Stuffing some of my luggage ahead with me, I'm on my early morning ride to the airport, which takes more time than I thought it would. Although I'm fairly safe, considering the departure norms and everything.

Excitement coupled with nerves, is back when I am walking inside, telling myself it's all really happening. I flash my digital boarding pass to the woman at the security check, impatient as she scans through it. "ID, ma'am?"

"Oh, right," I scourge through my purse–all the nook and corners–and yet return empty handed each time.

"Ma'am you're keeping the line." Her voice is lost amidst many others as my head goes into overdrive. My ID, where the hell's my ID? Flipping the purse upside down does no magic and neither do my sad eyes.

"But I've got the tickets and everything. Isn't that enough? I'm sorry, I know it's a requirement, but you don't understand my urgency."

"It's mandatory." That's it. All it takes is two words to push me out of the line, leaving me to helplessly watch as people go by one after another. Shameless again, I bend down on the floor, wracking my brain to remember where I kept the damned thing. Last I know of it goes back to when that air hostess asked me for it because Chase needed—Chase.
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We're together in the same room and not rambling. The sheer amusement makes me look back at what happened, and wonder if he's thinking the same. Irony proves its existence when I struggle to read the face of the most upfront person I've ever met.