Ryder
I cross another red light, easing up on the gas pedal as I turn into the parking lot of the airport.
I look around and see how crowded the lot is. Where are people going in the middle of spring? What the f**k?!
I get stuck in a lane of slow moving cars and feel my nails dig into my palm from how tightly my fist is clenched.
I honk loudly and cuss, but the line moves just as slowly and I recieve a couple middle fingers.
I'm already so mad, I can't even be bothered at this point.
I fidget with my fingers and bite my nails. I can't stay still. Even my breathing shudders. I run my hands through my hair and look out the window to see we havent moved at all.
I'm wasting time. I reach down and grab my phone from the floor. I turn it on and check the clock.
11:55 am. I'm late. My br
