Page 58 of Guarded Love

Madison laughs. "I heard him from three rows back with headphones on. I was impressed."

I find myself smirking at Madison's comment, which is a small miracle considering my current state. "Well, at least I know you'll be more tolerable than the guys I was sitting next to on the flight."

"First day of travel is always rough," Madison says, adjusting her backpack strap. "By tomorrow, you'll be living your best tropical life. Or at least that's what I keep telling myself."

We reach baggage claim and our group surrounds it. Professor Wallace and Professor Moore are still trying to maintain order, but it's clear everyone's exhaustion mixed with excitement is winning out.

"So what's your major?" Madison asks, staring down the empty carousel as if she has the ability to make our suitcases materialize.

"Journalism. You?"

"Mathematics." She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

That one word forces me to do a double take. It’s as if someone threw a water balloon at my face. “I didn’t know people actually majored in Math. That’s not meant to be shady, but wow I’m blown away. That’s amazing.”

Madison laughs. "I get that reaction a lot. Math is cool when you really get into it."

"I'll take your word for it," I say, struggling to imagine anyone finding joy in the subject that gave me panic attacks throughout high school.

My attention is drawn to the baggage carousel because it starts turning. The first few suitcases start tumbling down the conveyor belt. When some of the students in our group move forward, Madison and I hang back slightly.

"So is this your first time in Puerto Rico?" Madison asks.

I nod as I watch the carousel for my suitcase. "I joined super last minute, but I’m so happy I did. At least I will be when we reach our hotel."

Her hand flies to her chest as her mouth drops open. "Same! I heard about the trip and applied the day the applications were due.”

I spot a flash of familiar navy blue with a bright yellow luggage tag. "That's mine," I say, moving toward the carousel. I grab my suitcase, noticing immediately that there is a small tear on the handle. Hopefully it will keep itself together and won’t be another thing I’ll have to end up dealing with on this trip.

"Nice tag," Madison comments as I set my suitcase down. "Smart move. Everything looks the same otherwise."

"My mom's idea," I admit. "She's big on 'practical solutions to avoidable problems.'"

Madison points to a bright pink suitcase making its way around. "That one's mine. No tag needed when it looks like Barbie threw up on it."

I can't help but laugh as she retrieves her unmistakable luggage. She wasn’t wrong.

"Everyone, once you have your bags, please gather by the exit doors!" Professor Wallace's voice cuts through the noise. "Our shuttle should be arriving momentarily!"

When we wrangle all of our things, our group steps outside and immediately gets hit with a wall of heat. It's not scorching by any means and I’m grateful that the humidity isn’t that high here this time of year. I’m already regretting my choice of sweatpants for the flight and can’t wait to change.

It takes a few minutes, but two white shuttles pull up to the curb and I assume these are our rides. Professor Moore gestures toward them with the enthusiasm of a tour guide on their first day.

"Group A in the first shuttle, Group B in the second, and Group C in the third! Your group assignments were in the email Professor Wallace and I sent yesterday!"

I pull out my phone to check which group I'm in while trying to manage my suitcase without doing more damage to my handle.

"Group B," Madison says, peering over my shoulder at my phone. "Me too. Guess we're sticking together."

I nod, secretly relieved to have someone familiar beside me as we approach the second shuttle. It also means that if Blaise is on this shuttle, he won’t be able to sit next to me. The driver, a middle-aged man with a friendly smile, hops out to help load our luggage.

"Bienvenidos!" he says, taking my suitcase. He doesn’t take as much care with my handle as I would have, but I can’t fault him for it when his job is to get us to our accommodations safely.

"Gracias," I say with a small smile.

Madison and I climb into the vehicle and find two seats in the middle of the bus. Madison slides in by the window, and I collapse next to her, my body finally registering just how exhausted I am. The air conditioning is blasting and I’m grateful for it.

"Look at that sky," Madison whispers, pointing out the window. "You don't get blue like that in Virginia."

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