Around eleven, we packed up our luggage and headed to the airport. Our flight didn't leave until four, but we both decided it was time to go home, even if that meant hanging out in a busy terminal for a couple of hours. We returned the Mercedes and hopped the shuttle back to the main terminal. After an hour in the security line, we were finally settled at our gate and the countdown to take-off began. In my mere 23 years of life, I'd never been so anxious to get on an airplane, until now. T-minus one hour and forty-two minutes, I recited inwardly and made a habit of checking the time every couple of minutes. "You know the saying, a watched pot never boils?" Kennedy asked, obviously annoyed with me. "Sorry, friend," I said and shoved my phone back into my bag. "Well, you wouldn't be such a wreck if you'd just call him, you know?" I rolled my eyes and said, "I'm not calling him until we get home.
