Freaking finally.
Bree hauled out a blue rolling suitcase from the bus’s luggage compartment, wincing a bit as she juggled a black duffle under her shoulder. It didn’t help that a few other students were brushing past her, some with loud chatter and laughter.
How long was that bus ride? Hours. It was at least a nice bus. Reasonably air-conditioned, had a bathroom. But Christ, her legs were cramped. It was nice to finally, y’know, get to stretch her legs.
Bree still wasn’t sure what was gonna happen on the trip. On one hand, not only was it a school trip far away from home, but it was the last trip. On the other, you’d think people would behave themselves in the nation’s capital. You’d think.
Turning around with a huff, she looked at the hotel.
Okay, so it looked nice? It looked… hotel-ish. They were in the dimming shade, so it wasn’t that bad heat-wise. She was still thankful for her tank top, jean shorts, and wedge sandals, though. There wasn’t anything more or less she could expect from the hotel. There was a pool, a fitness center, and everything else. Bree wondered if they had enough time to enjoy it, what with hanging around the National Mall and all.
She had planned this trip out. Smithsonians first, then monuments. The exact order really depended on what the group was up for, but honestly, she liked to come up with an order in general. But they had a week, There was even a carousel or something nearby? Would they even allow that?
The students were directed towards a waiting area near the entrance. They were supposed to sit and wait for their names to be called so they know who they’re rooming with and in what room. It was going to take a while for Oppenheimer to call hers, really. “Jones” started with a “J”, so she had to sit through “Abbey,” “Abernathy,” “Brady,” “Beck,” “Borowski,” probably two “Carter”s, “Cortez,” “Davis,” “Diaz,” “Fisher,” “Froese,” “Green,” possibly up to three “Hayashibara”s, and “Jackson” before she knew where she was going. And those were names from up the top of her head. It didn’t help they were waiting until everyone else got off the bus and gathered their luggage, so it was going to take a while.
She sat down on the asphalt beside a brush, her legs crossed and a bag placed on each side. Bree fished out her phone, tapping in the pass number.
She quickly sent a text.
hey mom, it’s me bree. Just got off
She’d backspaced a few times. Bree wanted to say “boring,” but that wasn’t exactly… good? “OK” emoji was fine. With the text, she quickly lifted her phone, put on a smile, snapped a selfie, and sent it to her.
Mom was always… touchy about this stuff. It was kind of a rule she had to take a picture of herself shortly after they arrived when it came to school trips.
Bree put her phone back, and leaned forward, her hand resting on her chin in thought. She wondered who she was going to room with. They did allow some wiggle room for requests, but it was a “no promises” dealio.
She just hoped they’d be cool.
_________
Her name still hadn’t been called.
The J-section came and went, with nary a “Jones” in sight. Bree had scowled and sighed softly. She’d taken out her phone again, sending out a few more texts to various people in frustration. But she wasn’t supposed to go up to Oppenheimer until he was done.
Finally, the last name was called, and Bree stood up.
Another sigh. Calm, calm.
She went up to Oppenheimer.
“Excuse me,” she said, getting his attention.
He turned his head.
“Hey, Jones. ‘Sup?”
Bree explained the situation. And he took another look.
It turned out her name wasn’t on the list of students attending the trip? But how? She paid for her ticket, she sent in requests for her roommates, she did everything, ahead of time at that. She felt her muscles tense at the thought.
Oppenheimer gave that “let me sort this out, sit back, and wait” thing in the whole gruff authoritative tone he liked to do, and Bree obliged, sitting on her upright suitcase. Oppenheimer was the kind of coach who honestly didn’t eff around. He was cool as long as you weren’t either lazy or up your own ass, so it paid off to do what he said.
Fifteen minutes. A few more texts.
Eventually, Oppenheimer showed up with another bundle of papers. Bree stood up as he approached.
It turned out he’d talked to Ms. Garcia, and it became clear that what had happened was some kind of clerical error. See, Bree was listed as a student who had signed up for the trip. However, her name had been skipped while arranging the sheet Oppenheimer had been looking at. That said, she did have an assigned room that was on another sheet of paper.
For a moment, Bree clenched her fists.
They forgot about her? If she had ended up sent home early, after that bus ride, just because of a mistake…
Another breath.
It’s fine. It’s being resolved.
In a way, it was kind of funny, wasn’t it?
Bree looked over his shoulder. Kind of impolite, yeah, but she was curious? She managed to get the name “Mercy Ames” just above hers before Oppenheimer spoke again, confirming her room number and who she was rooming with.
He apologized and even offered to guide her up to the rooms.
Bree grumbled some, but she followed.
((Bree Jones continued in Life Finds a Way))