The flip-flop girls from my flight giggled as we crossed the tarmac. I thought I overheard them discussing cocktails and something about body shots.
“Ladies, wait up!” The flask guys pushed past me, sending one of the cola bottles in the air.
“Hey!” I yelled as the lid slipped off and the pungent concoction washed down the front of my jeans.
If they were trying to stifle their laughter, they failed. “Dude, you just spilled your drink all over that girl.”
“Hey, I’m sorry.” The offender barely uttered the words before he plunged into the crowd and disappeared.
I looked down at my jeans and the stain that had bled from my thigh to the mid-point of my shin. At least I was entering baggage claim where I could retrieve my bag and change clothes. Only, the carousel circled several times, the flip-flop girls were on their way with their luggage and mine was missing.
I trudged over to the baggage desk. “Excuse me. My luggage didn’t arrive from Raleigh.”
“Fill out this form.” The man behind the counter didn’t even bother to look at me. He typed something with one hand and tossed a pen with the other.
“But, I’m supposed to catch a shuttle to my hotel. Can you try to track it first? I was bumped from my last flight and maybe it arrived before I did. I have my baggage claim ticket right here.” I held up the small barcode stapled to my boarding pass.
“Like I said, fill out the form.”
I took the pen and inserted all the necessary information into the blanks.
“Do you think you can tell me where it is?” I asked sweetly, hoping he would take pity on me.
The man glanced over the sheet on the clipboard and resumed his typing. “We’ll call you when we locate your bag.”
There was a line forming behind me. I wasn’t the only one who had an issue with traveling today.
“Ok. Thank you.” I didn’t want to thank the man. He hadn’t done anything and he wasn’t the least bit helpful, but the fate of my suitcase was in his hands.
I thought back to the pictures on the website of the resort. When I checked in, I could take a hot steamy shower and curl up in one of those fluffy robes while I waited for my luggage. I smiled. A twenty-minute shuttle ride was all that separated me from resort luxury.
I stepped out into the baggage pickup and searched for the shuttle the resort advertised. I felt empty-handed as I watched the travelers around me struggle with their suitcases. At the end of the sidewalk was a small bus marked with the emblazoned sun logo for the Wave Oasis. I marched toward it.
The driver jogged down the steps. “No luggage, young lady?”
“No. It’s lost.”
“Maybe they’ll find it for you by the end of the week.” He laughed. I hoped he was joking. I didn’t have a stitch of clothing with me other than what I had on. I couldn’t spend the entire week in a spa robe.
After an hour, the driver pulled into the side entrance of the Wave Oasis, designated for guest arrivals and departures. Everything looked exactly like it did on the website. Palm trees and tropical flowers lined the sidewalk. I loved the deep red hibiscus blooms, climbing the trellises. Flames flickered in the gas torches by the front door.
I smiled as I stepped off of the bus and inhaled the salty air. I tilted my head to the side confirming that the rumbling sound was waves meeting the shore. I made it—I finally made it to South Padre. It didn’t matter that I was alone and couldn’t claim a group like the flip-flop girls as my spring break buddies. Even the fact that my luggage was missing didn’t frustrate me like it did at the airport. All the perfect paradise ingredients surrounded me. Warm beaches. Sun in my face. Salt breeze in my hair.
I approached the front desk and pulled out my ID, feeling the rush of the trip lighting all my senses.
“I’m here to check in,” I announced.
The girl behind the counter smiled and brushed her bangs from her eyes. I instantly liked her. “The name?” She couldn’t be much older than me.
“Sinclair. Kaitlyn’s my first name.” I slid my ID across the counter.
“Hmm.” She typed quickly and scrunched her nose. “Could it be under another name?”
“No. I made the reservation months ago. Kaitlyn Sinclair. I have the credit card here. Do you need it?” I flipped open my wallet.
She shot me a friendly smile and started punching the keys again. “I just don’t see it. Did you have a roommate by chance or did someone else make the reservation?”
My stomach lurched. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. “I did, but I’m certain he’s not here. I mean, that’s just not possible. Is it?”