The boarding announcement echoed over the speakers, and our group began to move forward. We were among the first to board, thanks to Evelyn's insistence on flying first class. No complaints from me. The seats were wide, the legroom endless, and the cabin looked like something out of a luxury catalog.
As we settled into our seats, I noticed Charlie casually sliding on his sleep mask and reclining like he owned the plane. Alan kept adjusting his neck pillow like it was a Rubik's Cube.
A few minutes later, the rest of the passengers began boarding. I spotted them again—Ross, Chandler, Monica, Rachel, Phoebe, Joey, David, and Professor Wheeler—filing in through the cabin doors.
They paused as they passed through first class. Chandler did a double take at our row.
"Whoa," he said, eyeing us. "So this is where the rich family vacation starts. Look at that. They've got a twelve-year-old in first class and I'm still waiting to hit my frequent flyer miles."
Joey leaned over to Chandler and whispered, "Do you think they have caviar snacks up here?"
Charlie lifted his sleep mask just in time to smirk. "Depends. Want to trade your peanuts for champagne?"
Chandler raised a brow. "Tempting. But I don't think they'd let me back here after my last mini-bar incident."
Monica rolled her eyes and pulled him by the sleeve. "Come on. Let the rich kids enjoy their legroom."
Rachel offered me a friendly wave. "Enjoy the flight."
"Thanks," I said. "I'll try not to spill my sparkling water on the leather."
As they moved to the back of the plane, Charlie turned to me with a satisfied sigh. "First class really does bring out the envy in people."
Alan grumbled under his breath. "Still can't believe mom paid for this."
Dad can be cheap for no reason. We could easily afford to fly only first class, I thought
"She didn't," Charlie said, popping an olive into his mouth. "Jake did."
Alan looked at me with wide eyes. "Wait—you paid for this?"
I shrugged. "Consider it a small investment in family morale."
Charlie raised his glass. "To the richest twelve-year-old I know."
I clinked his glass with my ginger ale. "To flying above our problems—in style."
As I took a sip, I couldn't help but think how this whole trip was funded—by a bet. A single bet.
The Lakers winning the NBA championship last month had earned us a ridiculous return. I hadn't even watched a single game, hadn't followed the season, didn't even remember who the MVP was. But I had remembered the outcome from my last life—and that was enough.
After a few hours of quiet luxury and surprisingly good airplane food, we finally touched down in Barbados. The sky outside was crystal clear, the air humid and warm even through the sealed airplane door.
As we stepped out of the plane and descended onto the tarmac, I was hit by the thick, salty breeze of the Caribbean.
Charlie stretched his arms and let out a contented sigh. "Now this is vacation."
Alan was already sweating through his shirt. "Can we just get to the hotel and not melt on the way?"
Evelyn had on a wide sunhat, oversized sunglasses, and looked more prepared for a magazine shoot than airport pickup. "I told you linen breathes better than polyester, Alan."
Judith just shook her head and took a long look at the turquoise water in the distance. "Let's try to at least pretend we're relaxed."
"Trust me," I muttered, "I'm already there."
As we walked across the tarmac toward the waiting car, I caught a glimpse of Ross and the others unloading their bags just a few feet behind us. Chandler was loudly asking if the resort had banana daiquiris on arrival.
By the time we arrived at the resort, we were all ready to crash or dive straight into the pool. The hotel was stunning—beachfront with towering palms, soft music playing in the lobby, and a scent of coconut lingering in the air.
Check-in was smooth, and within minutes we were handed chilled towels and colorful drinks with little umbrellas. I caught Charlie raising an eyebrow at the drink before muttering, "Needs rum."
We were just getting settled into our suites when I heard familiar voices again. Turning around, I saw Ross, Chandler, Monica, and the rest of the group walk into the lobby with their luggage.
Chandler spotted us first. "Wait—are you guys staying here too?"
Charlie gave a short laugh. "What can I say? Great minds vacation alike."
Ross stepped forward and added, "We're actually here for a paleontology convention. A few big names are giving talks."
That's when Judith, Charlie, Evelyn, and I all turned slowly to look at Alan.
Alan shifted uncomfortably. "What? I saw the flyer... It sounded interesting. Dinosaurs are cool."
"You brought us to a dinosaur convention?" Charlie said, half amused, half incredulous.
"I brought myself to a dinosaur convention," Alan corrected. "You're just tagging along."
Outside, the skies darkened and a soft drizzle began falling. The rain tapped rhythmically on the wide glass windows of the lobby.
"Well," Evelyn said, sipping her drink, "at least there's a spa."
I stared out at the rain, then sighed and thought, Oh crap, don't tell me it's going to rain every day just because they're here.
Later that night, I lay on the hotel bed, staring up at the ceiling fan slowly spinning above me. My mind buzzed.
The timeline was all scrambled.
From what I could tell, Monica and Chandler were still sneaking around. So forget the wedding—it hadn't happened yet. But earlier, I'd overheard Chandler whispering something to Joey about Mike possibly flying in.
Is Phoebe already on her endgame path?
Well, not really my problem
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