12:01. The kiss had been kissed. The champagne had been toasted. The cheers had been cheered.
A sinking feeling in Julie’s stomach sent her out onto the patio and from there to the car.
What… something she’d forgotten. Something…
“Shit.” She had the car out of the driveway before she finished processing the thought. “Shift, fuck, DAMN.”
She was too drunk to drive. She called on every bit of luck she’d ever had and every deity who’d ever shown her favor and stayed two miles over the speed limit, no more, no less.
“I promise you,” she’d said, just about this time last year, “that by the time the year is over…”
The year wasn’t over everywhere.
If she could get to the airport, if she could call in enough favors.
“I’ll figure it out. I promise. Before the ball drops.”
If she could just sober up. If she could just clear her head enough to think.
“I know I don’t know you that well.”
She’d barely known Carla at all. She knew her better now, better enough to not break a promise to her. Better enough to risk a couple secrets.
“Andi,” she snapped at her phone. “Call John Price.”
John answered. She knew he would. John always answered.
“John, I’m calling in that favor.”
“Julie, I’m a little bit tied up at the moment…”
“I need a plane to American Samoa. Now.”
“oh, that’s easy. And we’re even?”
“And we’re even for Beirut. You still owe me for… the other thing.”
“It’ll be on the runway when you get to the airport. And we’ll talk about the other thing when you get back.”
“I’m sure we will, John. I’m sure we will.”
Five more phone calls and she was on John Price’s private jet. Seventeen more phone calls and she was disembarking in American Samoa.
She still had three hours left. She sat down in a tiny cafe with a pot of coffee and opened her laptop.
At 11:45, American Samoa time, she made a call.
“Carla! Hi, sorry, hope I didn’t wake you.”
“Julie.” From her voice, she’d definitely been awoken. “What happened? You ran out of the party.”
“I got it.” She’d had to call in a few more favors on the way. “I have … 14 minutes to go – by American Samoa time, but I got it. And I’ll be back to give it to you tomorrow. Say, 12:01 in the afternoon? We can have coffee.”
Written to Kara D.‘s prompt:
not until 12:01 on New Year’s Day does the protagonist remember a promise they made at the very end of New Year’s Eve 2016. Rather than write it off as unfulfilled and “better luck this year”, the protagonist determines that they still have a few hours left to fulfill the promise, just so long as they can get to an airport quickly and fly to someplace it’s still New Year’s Eve…
I thought about making it Fae Apoc but this sort of … spyish feeling turned out more fun.
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