Page 76 of Space Balls: Houston, We Have Liftoff
“I gotta go, Brit. Talk to you later.” I hang up before she can reply, dropping my phone back on my desk.
It doesn’t take a master’s degree in engineering to know my sister is pissed. Probably ramming her cart into some grocery food pyramid and buying junk food she’ll binge eat later while cursing me,
But her being mad is better than… well, it’s just better.
Picking up my office landline, I make a call. Not to Rose, but to someone who can help make sure I don’t lose track of the promise I made to myself.
While it rings, I wipe the glitter off my hands.
Rose
“Oh. My. God.”Trish’s mouth drops open as she takes in the scene before her. She climbs off one of the four-wheelers that she and the other girls drove out to the far north field to reach my laser tag extravaganza.
I saunter out from my hiding space behind one of themanyenormous, rolled stacks of hay. “You bitches ready for this?” I shoot my laser gun in the air, the tinnypew pewsound reminiscent ofStar Wars.
Although I don’t remember any of theStar Warscharacters wearing full camouflage jumpsuits and tactical vests.
Jules leans forward on her four-wheeler, laughing. “I should’ve known you’d go all out.” She pushes up, looking around at the field I had prepped with six-foot hay bales, wooden fencing, an old tractor, and two kid playsets, complete with monkey bars and an elevated clubhouse. I had each spray-painted camouflage and set on opposites sides of the battlefield. I even had a narrow, shallow trench dug across the middle of the area and filled with enough water to create a murky, muddy mess.
Hashtag mud wrestling with friends.
The West Ranch workers who volunteered to help with “one of Rose West’s crazy ideas” are probably busy right now spending their extra overtime cash.
Hashtag everybody wins.
Jackie swings her leg off her four-wheeler. “Happy graduation.” She crunches across the hay and slides out a slim wrapped box from her pocket. “From all of us.”
“Aw, you guys,” I sing-song, taking the glitter-wrapped present from Jackie. “You shouldn’t have.”
“Yes, we should.” Trish squats down and scoops up a few pieces of the congratulations confetti I had sprinkled over the battle ground.
Biodegradable, of course.
“We probably should’ve held off and given it to you next week at your actual graduation party, but we couldn’t wait.” Jackie, looking more like a little kid at Christmas than a bona fide aerospace genius, bounces on her toes, waiting for me to open it.
Jules smirks. “Open it before Jackie passes out, will you?”
Jackie blushes, lowering her heels.
Smiling at my friends’ excitement, I peel off the paper and lift the lid. The smell of cement glue from inside the box hits my nose. I take out a piece of folded card stock. “What’s this?”
“Read it, sugar,” Trish says, all of them sharing the same eager smile.
I drop the box and open the accordion folded paper. On the top of each folded section a different day is written. UnderDay 1there are cut-out pictures of a clear blue water beach and one of tropical drinks with cocktail umbrellas. UnderDay 2, a picture of people dancing, one of fireworks over the beach and another of different tropical drinks with cocktail umbrellas.Day 3’s column includes a woman parasailing, a picture of Bloody Marys with cocktail umbrellas lined up on a bar, and one of sunburned people passed out on the beach.
Flipping the paper over,Rose’s Epic Graduation Tripis written in marker at the top with pictures of a resort and an airplane underneath.
“Girls’ trip!” Jackie, unable to hold back anymore, jumps up and down.
Jules smirks, shaking her head at our friend. “For New Years. Figured we’d make the most out of the built-in vacation time.”
“Just you and us,” Trish adds, making me think that maybe my carefully hidden resentment about them being in relationships wasn’t all that hidden.
“This is great, guys.” I clear my throat. All this hay must be affecting my allergies.
“I know, right?” Jules saunters over to the hay bale where I have all their matching camouflage jumpsuits, vests, and guns. “We rule.”
“And are so humble about it,” Trish mumbles.
