"Oh my god."

I grip the armrest of my seat tighter, my knuckles turning white as my stomach swoops and bottoms out with the turbulence. The small, two-propeller plane dips again, then jolts upward like it's trying to break free of the clouds. I squeeze my eyes closed and try to focus on the breathing technique I learned from the online therapy app that sponsored me a few months ago.

In, one, two, three. Hold, one, two, three. Out, one, two—

"...and lead us not into precipitation, but deliver us from evil," I hear Delaney whispering, her voice barely audible over the hum of the plane. I crack one eye open, just enough to catch her lips moving mid-prayer. Her eyes are screwed shut, her fingers gripping the empty mimosa glass, while her other hand clutches the Safety Instructions Card—normally tucked neatly into the seat pocket in front of her—tight against her chest.

"Are you—" I pause, leaning over to get a better look at her face. "Are you praying?"

"Shut up, Ellis," she bites out, her blue eyes snapping open to lock with mine. She lets out a garbled little whimper, gripping the instruction card tighter as the plane dips again. "We might die, and I want to go to heaven."

A laugh bubbles out of me, but it catches in the back of my throat as a lurch sends my stomach into my throat this time. I grip my armrest tighter and reach for my glass with the other hand, draining the rest of my third mimosa in one gulp. We booked main class plus flights with the promise of free drinks, but it turns out every seat on this plane is pretty much main class plus, considering its size from my walk-in closet at home.

"Would y'all like another drink?" the flight attendant asks as she makes her way up the aisle. She asks it so casually, you'd think we were sitting at the café down the street from my house, not thirty thousand feet in the air, on the verge of plummeting into one of the mountains to the sides of us.

"Yes!" Delaney exclaims, eagerly handing over her empty glass. "God, yes, please. Thank you."

"Oop," the flight attendant says with a smile, reaching to brace herself by placing a hand on the ceiling of the plane. The aircraft drops with what feels like a sudden two-hundred-foot descent, and Delaney lets out a yelp as the plane's engines rev louder and it begins to climb again. "Just a little bit of turbulence today."

She hands us each our fourth mimosa of the flight, and both Delaney and I watch her walk away as if there's not a single care in the world. She checks on the man a few aisles in front of us—the one with the cowboy hat I've been staring at for most of the flight. I keep glancing over, half-convinced it's him, but this guy has blonde hair peeking out from under his hat, not espresso brown.

"This is how we die, isn't it?" Delaney says, pulling my attention back to her. She's turned to look out the window at the snow-capped mountains. "We're going to crash somewhere on these mountains, and we're going to have to eat June to survive, like that movie on Netflix. We shouldn't have watched it last night. Terrible idea."

I scrunch my nose at the thought. It was a terrible idea. We both turn to look at Juniper on the other side of the aisle, typing away at her laptop with AirPods in, her eyebrows furrowed, completely unbothered by the turbulence.

"No," I say, shaking my head. "Juniper lives off coffee and scones. You, on the other hand, I know you eat Taco Bell at least twice a week."

She scoffs, feigning hurt, and places a hand dramatically over her chest. "I do not."

Another jolt rocks the plane, sending it into a sudden dip. I clench my jaw and rest my head against the headrest, while Delaney hastily takes three large gulps of her drink. We both glance over at Juniper to see her reaction. She calmly reaches for her cup of coffee, takes a slow sip, sets it back down, and types another two sentences on her laptop.

"God, Wells must be really good in bed if she's that relaxed," Delaney jokes.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the flight attendant announces over the intercom, "as we begin our descent, kindly make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position, seat belts are securely fastened, and stow all carry-on items in the overhead bins or under the seat in front of you. We will be landing in Wyoming shortly."

"Oh, thank god," Delaney mutters under her breath.

The remainder of the flight is quick and relatively painless. There's considerably less turbulence, or maybe it's the four mimosas that provided some relief. Regardless, we finally touch down, and as soon as the plane door swings open, a blast of cold air greets us as we descend the stairs onto the tarmac. The moment my feet touch the ground, a rush of relief floods over me, and I'm almost tempted to lean down and kiss the ground. I've never been so grateful to be on solid land.

Delaney, on the other hand, quite literally gets down on her knees and presses her lips to the tarmac.

"It's... flat," Juniper comments, pausing as she tucks her hands into the pockets of her calf-length, puffy jacket. "I thought we were supposed to be in the mountains."

I quickly snap a picture of Delaney before she notices, and then take a moment to glance around at the vast open space—endless plains interrupted only by a few scattered buildings.

"I thought so too," I say, furrowing my brows as I do a circle, surveying my surroundings.

"No," Delaney says with a sated sigh, standing up from where she'd been kneeling on the tarmac, her eyes sweeping over the terrain. "That's more toward western Wyoming. The terrain there is more mountainous. Out here, in the eastern part, it's all high plains and rolling hills. That's why there are so many cattle farms out here."

We both pivot toward her, as I ask, "How do you know that?"

"Grade school teacher, remember?" she says with a half-shrug before walking toward the markers leading into the tiny airport.

We fall in step behind her, passing through the doors into a space that feels eerily deserted. Only a handful of people are gathered at our gate, waiting to board the same plane we just came off of. The terminal is so compact it almost feels like a made-up version of an airport—just the four gates, a single lane for security, and a ticket counter that shares space with a rental car kiosk. There's also a tiny restaurant tucked into the corner, though it's closed, with a crooked sign posted on a stand reading, Gone huntin'. Be back tomorrow.

We veer toward the rental car kiosk, and I grimace as we pass a life-size display in the center of the room—a herd of buffalo and elk frozen mid-motion, their glassy, taxidermied eyes staring blankly ahead as they gallop across an artificial dirt floor.

I turn my attention to the guy behind the rental car counter just as he perks up, flashing a smile like we're the first human interaction he's had all day.

"Sutton, right?" he greets, his accent thick, pronouncing right like raht. And I know immediately, I am no longer in the city.

"Uh, yeah," I confirm, furrowing my brows as I set my carry-on down on the tiled floor.

Juniper tilts her head, curious. "How did you know that?"

"Oh, well, you're the only one renting a car today," he explains, his eyes briefly lingering on Delaney as she rummages through her purse before blinking back to his computer.

"Right," I say, nodding slowly. I glance around again, noting a total of two people in the vicinity. That makes sense.

"Does anyone have chapstick?" Delaney interrupts, her brow furrowed as she digs deeper into her purse. "I think I left mine at home."

Juniper and I shake our heads, and I turn back to the car rental attendant.

"So, it looks like we've got you in a Kia Rio. That work for y'all?" he asks, his eyes flicking up from the edge of his computer screen to Delaney briefly before settling back on me.

I steal a glance at Delaney from the corner of my eye, noting her complete and painful oblivion to the fact that the car rental guy is clearly into her. Shaking my head, I turn my attention back to him. "Is there anything a bit nicer available?"

Normally, I wouldn't give much thought to the type of rental car. But since I'm here in Wyoming for work, it makes sense to go for something a little nicer—for the sake of Instagram, of course. A nicer SUV looks way better coming down a dirt road than a Kia Rio. Plus, I can just write it off as a business expense.

"I can put you guys in one of the newest Jeep Wranglers everyone is crazy about these days. Just got a few in last month."

"Yes! Let's do that." I say quickly before I lean in toward his name tag. "Thank you, um..."

"Matt," he supplies, tapping his name tag twice as he straightens slightly, flashing us a boyish smile. His brown-blonde hair is just long enough to brush against his ears, framing his clean-shaven face. He's cute in an unassuming kind of way.

"Thank you, Matt," I say with a smile.

"Are you here visiting or on business?" Matt asks after a moment, his fingers tapping across the keyboard. When he glances up, his eyes land on Delaney, who's too preoccupied emptying out the contents of her purse to notice. Matt waits, unhurried.

"Delaney," I say, giving her a nudge with my elbow.

"What?" she snaps, glaring up at me. "That hurt."

"Matt here asked you a question," I say, tilting my head toward him.

She looks over at him, and he smiles at her before repeating himself. "Are you guys here for vacation or y'all working?"

"Oh," she says, clearing her throat as her hands fumble to shove the contents of her purse back inside. I press two fingers to my lips, hiding my smile, while Delaney sneaks a quick glance at Juniper. She is leaning against the counter, her elbow propped and chin resting in her hand, smirking at the two of them. Delaney's eyes dart back to Matt, who is waiting patiently. "Um, both, I guess."

"Well, I know a few great restaurants around here if you're planning to stick around the area. I could show you around, if you'd like?" He directs the offer to Delaney before glancing at Juniper and me, quickly adding, "I mean... all of you, of course."

"Oh," she giggles out awkwardly, "That's sweet of you. Actually, I just ended things with my boyfriend."

"Is that right?" he says, pressing his lips against a smile. He glances down to type something on his computer before reaching for one of the keys on the hook behind him.

"Well, technically, he ended things with me," Delaney corrects, nodding her head. She waves it off, adding, "I'm actually not really dating right now."

"Oh," he says, his smile faltering a fraction. "Well, that's too bad."

"Not that I'm saying I don't date at all, though. I do. I've been with my fair share of men, trust me. A lot of guys. A lot," she says with a half laugh, nodding to herself as if reminiscing. Matt looks up at her, tilting his head slightly as his brows furrow slightly. Delaney's eyes go wide, and she quickly continues, "I mean, dated. I've dated a lot of men. Dated. I'm not actually having sex with all of them. Well... maybe just a couple of—"

"Oh my god. Delaney," Juniper says, putting her fingers to her temple, silencing her before she can finish her sentence. I bite the inside of my cheek, forcing the laugh bubbling out to stay in.

Delaney looks back at us, cheeks pink, before huffing out a sigh.

"I'll, um," Matt hesitates, swallowing hard. He clears his throat twice, then shoots us an awkward smile. "I'll go pull your car up. It'll just take a second."