Page 204 of Left on Base

King tries to lighten the mood, offering Fork Guy a “support mongoose” made out of neck pillows and airport snacks. Fork Guy accepts it solemnly, declaring, “This will be my emotional support animal for the flight. I shall name him Sir Nibbles.”

At security, Fork Guy tries to convince the agent that Sir Nibbles should fly business class and ends up with a stern warning and a pamphlet about “appropriate animal handling.” Brynn documents the whole thing with a running commentary for her followers. Mom somehow talks the group out of two separate pat-downs and a “random” suitcase search.

As we finally make our way to the gate, Camdyn squeezes my hand and whispers, “Ready to go home?”

I glance back at our ragtag group—Jameson and Callie pointedly ignoring each other, King and Brynn giggling over their matching hats, and Fork Guy lecturing Sir Nibbles about the importance of positive airplane energy—and I nod, smiling. “Definitely. I wouldn’t mind coming back but next time, maybe leave the wildlife alone.”

She laughs, and like that, we’re leaving Dubai—one last ridiculous airport adventure before real life starts all over again.

The flight homeis both quieter and heavier. Everyone is exhausted, sunburned, and a little raw from the chaos of the last week. Fork Guy’s got his head on a tray table, spoon-support mongoose tucked under his arm, muttering about “jet lag and emotional turbulence.” King and Brynn have somehow scored an upgrade to “economy plus” and are making out with zero shame, taking full advantage of the extra legroom. Jameson buries himself in a hoodie and a playlist, arms crossed, refusing to look at Callie, who’s quietly crying behind her sunglasses.

Camdyn and I squeeze into our seats, hands laced, sharing the headphones she stole from the hotel. She leans her head against my shoulder and closes her eyes, letting the hum of the plane drown out the world.

There’s a weird peace in the cabin, like everyone’s collectively holding their breath. Even Fork Guy has run out of pep talks. He just sighs and says, “Wake me up if we hit turbulence or if they start serving baklava.”

I stare out at the clouds, thinking about everything—about Camdyn and all we’ve survived, about Jameson and Callie and the way one mistake can change your whole life. For the first time, I’m not scared of what’s next. I’m not running from it, either. I’m just… here.

Halfway across the ocean, Camdyn whispers, “You think they’ll be okay?”

I nod, squeezing her hand. “I mean, I hope so.”

She smiles, tired but real. “Best trip ever though.”

I kiss her temple, feeling the truth of it settle deep. “For real.”

The plane touches down in Seattle, and just like that, we’re home—jet-lagged, a little beat up, but somehow stronger for the adventure.

We stumble off the plane and into the gray Pacific Northwest drizzle, blinking in the weak morning light. Fork Guy salutes the customs agent with his spoon-mongoose and gets flagged for “excessive weirdness,” but Mom smooths it over with a business card and a promise to “keep him sedated with snacks.”

It’s over. The trip of a lifetime—one we’ll be telling stories about until we’re old enough to forget the details and just remember the feeling. The heat, the laughter, the fights, the moments that almost broke us, the ones that brought us back together.

We drag our bags through the rain, the city waking up around us. King immediately calls shotgun for the ride home. Brynn and Callie walk ahead, arms linked, whispering.

Jameson trails behind, a little lost, but not alone.

Camdyn and I fall in step, stealing one last moment before everything else starts again.

We’re not the same kids who left for Dubai. We’re something new. Something better, maybe. Or at least, something real.

Fork Guy shouts, “Next stop, Tokyo!” and everyone groans, but deep down, I know we’d all say yes in a heartbeat.

CHAPTER 43

RALLY

CAMDYN

A string of offensive success. The term is typically used in late-game scenarios by a team that is either tied or trailing.

See that girl ninja-walking down the dorm hallway, juggling donuts, coffee, and some suspiciously green juice she smuggled from the athletic dining hall like she’s on a secret mission? Yeah, that’s her. She’s got her shit together—well, she’strying.

She just got back from what was probably the best summer vacation of her life. Okay, maybe also the weirdest. But hey, a reset’s a reset. Perfect timing before junior year kicks off and fall ball starts throwing curveballs of its own.

She’s on track for a Sports Management degree, done with the drama of that “situationship” with her ex, and honestly? She’s winning at life. Or at least, she’s trying.

Who isn’t trying to win at life right now?

Callie. She’s a hot mess. Turns out, sleeping with two guys at once is a shortcut straight to getting knocked upandnot having a damn clue who the baby daddy is. Yeah, that kind of hot mess.

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