8
“Where are we going?” I ask, putting my face to the limousine’s window. Twenty minutes ago, I was just sitting in my room, bored to tears with my own thoughts.
Then Monster came into my room, threw a pretty pastel pink dress on my bed, and announced that we were going on a trip. When I saw the limo, I almost freaked out.
Behind me, Monster shifts in the leather seat and sighs. “The airport.”
I look at him with wide eyes. “Seriously? Where are we headed?”
He’s quiet for a moment. I take that chance to look out the window again. The gate vanishes behind the car, and my heart sings with joy.
“New Orleans.”
“Wait, what?” I ask, whipping around to face him. He can’t be serious. “Really?”
He merely inclines his head, seeming preoccupied. I am not satisfied with his non-answer, though.
