Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

It wouldn't be so bad if this weren’t all completely my fault.

See, I thought about the plane ticket.

I remember sitting on Expedia and booking the flight except ... well, now I'm remembering a few other things about that near purchase.

I remember looking at flight times, which caused me to start thinking about planes. Which led me to think about pilots. Which led me to think about Brett.

Which caused my panties to become soaked, and my hand to inch toward the waistband of my leggings. Before I remembered my roommate was sitting five feet behind me on her twin size bed.

I slammed my laptop shut, so hot and horny, grabbed my toiletries basket and towel, and made a beeline to the shower.

Apparently, after I finished getting myself off, I was so relaxed that I completely forgot what I had been doing.

So.

I never booked the flight. And now, Thanksgiving is tomorrow; and do you think there are any planes with empty seats leaving Boston headed towards Maine tonight?

The answer is no.

There are literally no flights available.

I feel like such a fucking idiot.

I should call my parents, but I can just picture my mom on the phone, "Ella, how many times do we have to tell you, you need to grow up. Be more responsible. Like Kari."

That is their favorite line to use on me.

What they don't understand is that, sure in some ways I may be young and inexperienced, navigating my way through life the best that I know how, but in a lot of other ways I have a solid head on my shoulder.

The thing is, Kari isn't more responsible than me. She's just naturally smart. Not just good grades smart, she's valedictorian smart. The kind of smart that doesn't even need to study. The kind of smart that doesn't even need to try.

She can just be her naturally effervescent self and woo the socks off my parents and everyone else we know.

Which is fucking fantastic, for her. Not only does she have brains and beauty, she doesn't even have to work for it.

Me, on the other hand, if I want a B average, I have to work my tail off. None of the school stuff comes easy to me, it never has. Is it the worst thing in the world to not want to be an astrophysicist with hopes of becoming an astronaut like Kari?

Okay, I'm getting off on a tangent here, which probably isn't helping my cause, because it was a tangent that got me away from my online ticket-booking in the first place.

Distractions.

Maybe I have ADD.

Regardless, the dorms are closing for the long weekend. There is no plane ride to take me home. I'm probably going to be sitting all alone on a park bench in Boston Commons, going to a homeless shelter to pick up a warm Thanksgiving meal.

Okay, now I do sound like an immature brat.

Buckle up, Ella it's time to focus on solutions.

I pick up my phone and press Kari's number, then put it on speaker.

"Kari?"

"Hey babe," Kari answers, cheerily. "I was just thinking about you. I’m at the airport, what time do you fly out? I made it through the crazy holiday security lines and have two hours to kill."

"That's the problem. I totally fucked up my plane ticket. My parents gave me one thing to do, book my own flight, and what do I do? I manage to screw up the reservation. Now all the flights are booked and I guess I won't be coming home."

"First, you're not a fuck up. I’ll help you get this sorted out. I must see you. Besides, I just talked to my dad this morning and he said your parents invited us over for Thanksgiving. Apparently, they got all chummy after our vacation this summer."

"Really?" My heart skips a beat. Brett is coming over for dinner tomorrow? Not exactly me in his bedroom, with him stroking my ass with his big hands, but sitting across from him at the kitchen table is better than nothing. "I haven't talked my parents all day. I’ve been avoiding their calls because I know I will never hear the end of it. Like my mom needs one more reason to think I'm a mess."

"Nobody thinks you're a mess. But we can fix this." Then I hear Kari squeal, clapping her hands. "I just totally figured it out. My dad can stop in Boston. He is just a few hours away at a conference and he can fly you home."

"Really, that sounds expensive and a big inconvenience for your dad."

"Are you kidding me? My dad would do anything for you. You can chill on his private jet. That's way better than hoping to catch a flight on standby."

There's always been a class divide between Kerry's family and mine. Her dad is a millionaire. Maybe more. Brett flies his own plane, but that's just a hobby. He also buys and sells stocks, trades bonds... all that sort of stuff. Which, okay. I don't exactly know what he does, but it has to do with money, and lots of it.

Kari and I only became best friends because we attended the same private high school. I was a scholarship kid. Not that I'm ashamed of it, my parents work hard. Which is why I feel so guilty that I don't want to be the collegiate daughter they dream of.

It's selfish to want to give it up, because what, I'm bored? Because school isn't very fun?

Because I'd rather be sleeping with my best friend’s father?

I know how ridiculous this all sounds.

"Do you really think he'd be able to give me a ride?" I asked.

"Obviously, Ella. He loves you like you're his own daughter," she replied.

I wish she could take back that line. I don't want Brett to think of me as his daughter, because I certainly don't picture him as my daddy.

Clearly, I can't say that to my best friend, however. Instead I just write down the phone number as she recites it to me and think about the possibility of riding Brett.

Riding in his plane, I mean.