“Afraid we won’t be able to find it again?”

“You never know,” I admitted. “Sometimes, we slip into a parallel dimension and need proof that we weren’t actually parked on B-7 and instead were on G-4 the whole time.”

Tucker just grinned at me. “You’re kind of weird, you know that right?”

“Be thankful.”

“Why is that?”

“Only a weird girl would agree to this fiasco,” I commented and that was the end of our conversation all the way until we arrived in Las Vegas five hours later. Once again, my phone had blown up by the time I got there.

Bea: I know you called, and we talked, but I think you might have left a bunch of stuff out. Dad says you signed a prenup, and you’re marrying this guy. What’s going on? I thought we decided he was a man-ho?

Man-ho was as close as my sister would come to calling him out for being the dirty little slut-boy he was. Not that there was anything wrong with a healthy sexual appetite. Just that, when you were supposed to be marrying someone, image was everything.

Flynn: Dad claims you’re still going to go through with this and marry that Tucker dude. Do I need to beat his ass? The guy, not Dad.

Bea: Where are you? I tried to find you, but your phone’s been off.

That was a good reminder. I made sure to turn off the find your friend thingy on my phone so no one could accidentally get wind that my wedding was impending any moment now.

Mom: Did I do something wrong? You didn’t even say goodbye. Where are you going anyway? Was he taking you to school?

That was my mom for you. She didn’t even remember that I was in the middle of my spring break. I loved her, and I knew she loved me, but I was not the offspring of hers that she tended to keep track of, unless someone reminded her to do it. I often joked that Bea was the favorite child and Flynn was the runner up. Where did that leave me? It almost always left me as an afterthought.

Dad: Where are you?

Bea: Um, is there something you want to tell me? Dad called here looking for you.

Mom: Okay, now I’m worried. No one seems to know where you are and when your dad called the Tuckers they didn’t know where Samuel was either.

Dad: Mina, please, let me know you’re okay.

“Let me guess, your family is looking for you?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Well, I’ve got a bunch of texts wanting to know where I am and if you’re with me because I picked you up and now your family is worried.”

“They should be, you don’t seem like a very responsible adult to me.”

He stared at me for a moment and then laughed. “Aren’t you an adult too? Why can’t you be the responsible one?”

“Because I’m tiny, so everyone treats me like a girl instead, so why bother being responsible or an adult?” Yeah, okay, I was still mad that he called me a girl earlier instead of a woman. I had “small girl syndrome” so sue me. Instead of dealing with my whole family one-by-one, I sent a mass family text.