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Heat creeps up my cheeks, and I watch Quinn bite her lip, trying not to smile. We both nod.
“With full disclosure, I’ll explain why we changed our minds. Within thirty- six hours of announcing our location, we received mounds of calls expressing concern. Most of your parents called, emailed, or in some cases, made personal visits to our offices. The arguments were compelling, to say the least.”
Quinn grasps my hand, and we communicate without words. This was us. Somehow, someway, our families orchestrated this sabotage. It probably wasn’t hard if the other parents were as upset as ours. But how the hell did they pull this off? There are sixteen people in our group. How did they get the names?
Then it hits me like a ton of bricks, and my blood runs hot. No wonder Bryce was so calm about the whole thing, and my parents nonchalantly mentioned me being gone this summer.
The eruption of massive proportions from everyone never came because they all knew. We weren’t going to Israel— they made sure of it.
“We shared this with our sponsors, and the decision was made to change our location. Lucky for us, there was a project readily available that would support our numbers.”
I ball my fists and beat lightly on my knees. Quinn’s eyes are wide as she looks back and forth between me and the screen.
“I’m going to kill them. Could this be more humiliating? Everyone has to know it was us,” I snip to Quinn, and she nods, giving me a nasty glare.
“Where should we start?” she asks under her breath.
“I’m assuming my pushy, overprotective fiancé. He’s probably the one who spear-headed this. He’s the only one who knew, outside of me and you, until we told our families.”
“I see irritation and uncertainty crossing some of your faces. Let me assure you, this was the best decision with the current unrest in certain parts of the country. We were already questioning backing out, and that’s why it was so easy to change our course.” Once again, he’s looking straight at us.
That damn star-eight beeps, and voices fill the line.
“Come on, Professor G. Don’t keep us hanging.”
“The suspense is killing me. Spill it.”
“Where the hell are we going?”
“Who the F cares about Israel? Let’s hear it—where we goin’?”
He clears his throat and does nothing to hide his excitement. “We, my friends, are heading to Rio De Janeiro, home to the 2016 Olympics.”
My stomach lurches, and Quinn and I screech at the same time. We jump to our knees and hug clumsily, this time not caring that the computer falls over into the mattress. The excitement is shared equally with everyone, as screams can be heard through the phone.
“Fuck yeah!”
“Holy shit!”
“This is fucking cool!”
One guy even yells, “Mom, you’re gonna love this shit!”
This sends a round of laughter.
Some of my irritation is replaced with thrill. We set the computer back up right and wait to hear the rest. It takes a few minutes for everyone to calm and Professor Grant to continue. For the next hour, we receive multiple emails with instructions, agendas, and basic travel rules.
When the call is over, both Quinn and I fall back on the bed and make a list of things we now know we need. My phone dings with a text from Bryce.
Bryce: How’d your call go?
“Is it creepy how in tune he is with you? I mean, the call ended less than ten minutes ago. How did he know?” Quinn asks.
“I don’t know, but are you ready to go? Once I reply, we need to run.”
She gives me a knowing grin. We get to her car and back out of the driveway before I send my response. He could be down the street or across town, but no doubt he will be barging through the door soon.
Me: Call was great. Israel’s out ? But, no worries. Istanbul should be fun. Phone is dying. Out with Quinn. See you later! XO!
