Page 18 of The Amazing Date

“No hard feelings. If you see something, say something.” I turn toward the laugh-filled words. “It’s just a game.” Caitlin winks in my direction, and I flip her the bird.

“Move it,” the sky marshal orders, and we march off the plane.

We step over the threshold of the plane’s exit and are pushed up against the walls of the jetway. Both Roberto and I are frisked as I hear the voice of the stewardess on the speaker inside the plane.

“Apologies for the slight delay. Please know we at Delta Airlines take your safety seriously. The TSA has instructed us we are cleared to take off. We will close the doors and prepare for takeoff. Thank you for flying Delta Airlines.”

The door of the plane slams shut at the same moment the agents click the handcuffs on our wrists.

I’ve waited for months for this competition, and it looks like I’ll never even make it out of the first city.

As if I didn’t already feel like shit, Roberto bumps my shoulder to brush past me on the tiny jetway. “Bet you didn’t have this on your checklist.”

Chapter 12

Roberto

Twenty-seven years on this planet, and I’ve never been arrested. One full day with Rylee Reynolds, and the streak is over. As a male person of color, it has been a fear I’ve carried ever since age seven when it was brought to my attention the world isn’t always a fair place and that the color of my skin and the way I look threaten certain people.

I hang my head low in shame because none of that has played a factor in today’s situation. This is all my fault. I knew what we were doing was wrong. This wasn’t some rolling through a stop sign bullshit. This was spitting in the face of the most technologically sophisticated, over-armed, overstaffed, scared of the boogeyman, our budget is bigger than yours homeland security agency on the planet.

The head agent, so proud of themselves, happily gloated over how quickly their system alerted them to two bogeys—that’s what he called us, even though he could clearly see we were people—placing an unattended bag on the Arrivals conveyor belt. The facial-recognition software and six million cameras in the airport pinpointed our every movement all the way to our seats. The whole operation took them less than four minutes from the time the bag was noticed until the time we were in handcuffs.

While Rylee continues to drone on, attempting to explain what we did, I keep my mouth shut. They have us dead to rights. No use giving them more ammunition to bury us with.

The door of the interrogation room swings open, and Rylee finally takes a breath. The agents in the room stand at attention, and I look up at the commanding figure of Agent Olson, according to her name tag.

“As you were,” she states. Agent Olson looks to be a midforties, no-nonsense commander. “All this over a freaking teddy bear?” she starts and taps a button on the control panel in front of her.

“Yes, the bear—” Rylee begins, but Agent Olson raises a finger to halt her.

“It wasn’t a question. I’ve been listening on the other side of the glass while my team has combed through your backgrounds. Today is your lucky day.”

For the first time since we’ve entered the room, I feel hope. She taps another button on the panel, and the speakers in the corner of the room come to life. “Go ahead, you’re connected.”

The voice that comes across the speakers may be filled with fury and anger, but it’s the sweetest sound of the day. “What the hell were you two thinking?” Wilma Reed’s voice fills the room, and I glance at the two-way mirror, feeling her presence.

Agent Olson gives her head a slight shake. Wilma is not in the other room. She holds her thumb to her ear and her pinkie to her lip, indicating phone. “I have half a mind to have them hold you and ship you off to Guantanamo Bay.”

With Wilma’s rant in full force, I catch a smirk from Agent Olson. Our race may be over, but we aren’t going to be arrested.

After two more minutes of verbal assault, Agent Olson speaks up. “I couldn’t have said it any better. I’m looking at two of the most apologetic people on the planet. You think they got the message?”

Both Rylee and I nod.

“You two are lucky Agent Olson is a fan of the game. I’ve convinced her and her wife to race next season in return for releasing you two.”

I take a deep inhale, not believing my ears. “Thank you, thank you,” I shout toward the speaker.

“You two owe me big-time, and I can’t believe I’m going to do this, but”—I feel Rylee’s hand on my thigh—“the second plane to San Francisco leaves in exactly ten minutes. If you guys can somehow make it, you are still in the race.”

Rylee leaps up and wraps Agent Olson in a bear hug. “We’ll never do anything like that again. We are so sorry. Thank you.”

I nod to the agent and scoop up my backpack. Rylee is already out the door when Agent Olson taps me on my shoulder. “She’s a fighter. She’s got your back. She hasn’t stopped defending your actions since those cuffs were placed on her. Her rambling is what saved you. The mention of the competition sprang me into action.” She pulls the brim of her baseball cap low. “In the future, show her she’s worth fighting for too. That’s what partners do. I’ll make sure they mail your teddy bear to your address.”

Her words cause confusion in my head. I attempt to formulate a response when I feel the pull on my elbow. “She’s already taken. Just wave bye. Let’s go.” An impatient Rylee disappears out the doorway again.

I tilt a nod in the agent’s direction, a smirk on her face easing my guilt. Her words cloud my head as I begin to jog and catch up to my partner.

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