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The suite is still buzzing from Callie’s bombshell. Everyone’s scattered—Brynn’s hugging Callie, Mom’s already on the phone looking up prenatal clinics in three countries, and Fork Guy is trying to manifest “positive baby vibes” with a circle of spoons on the carpet.

But Jameson’s nowhere to be seen.

I find him in the bathroom, the door half-closed, sitting on the edge of the tub with his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. The guy who never shuts up is suddenly silent, staring at the tile like it’s going to spell out an answer.

I knock gently. “Hey. You alright?”

He lets out a shaky, almost laugh. “Am I alright? I don’t even know. I’m gonna be a dad—maybe? I mean, what if I’m not?” He scrubs his face, voice raw. “Callie was with Sawyer… that’s why we’ve been fighting so much. She’d been seeing both of us at the same time. What if it’s his kid?”

I try to put myself in Jameson’s shoes for a minute. If Camdyn had been fucking around with other guys at the same time we’d been in our weird situationship, I would have been livid. Pissed beyond belief. But, she wasn’t. Callie was and we all knew it.

I can’t offer him much advice on that but I can on the baby part.

Jameson doesn’t know about Camdyn getting pregnant freshman year.

He doesn't know the regrets I have over it, but at least I can give him some advice. I sit on the floor next to him, back against the door. “You won’t know for sure until you talk to her. But either way, man, you’ve got to show up.

For her. For the baby, if it’s yours. And for yourself.

You love her, even if it’s messy. That counts for something. ”

He lets out another breath, not quite a laugh but not a sob either. “I just… I thought I had more time before… well, whatever. I don’t know. To be a kid. To figure it all out. Now I’m just… I don’t fucking know but I can kiss my career down the drain.”

I nod. “Yeah, me too. None of us have it all figured out, though. We… keep showing up. Even if we’re scared.”

The door swings all the way open and Fork Guy bursts in, tiara askew, juggling three hotel spoons.

“Emergency dad meeting!” he announces, dropping the spoons on the bathmat.

“Jameson, paternity is tricky, but love is easy. Babies need support, snacks, and boobs. And possibly a lawyer, but well, boobs.”

King slips in behind him, hat backwards, looking more serious than usual. He sits on the edge of the sink. “Dude. We’ll figure it out. If you need someone to teach the kid how to hit bombs—I’m your guy.”

Jameson stares at the floor for a minute, then at us—me, Fork Guy, King. For a second, he looks like he might actually cry, but instead he shakes his head, the panic giving way to something almost like relief. “This is the weirdest support group ever.”

Fork Guy pats his shoulder. “That’s what makes us great. Also, I think you should name the baby something powerful—like Kody. Or, if it’s that other guy’s kid, call it ‘Soccer Ball’ and call it a day.”

Jameson actually laughs. “You’re all idiots,” he says, but there’s a smile there now, too. The four of us sit in the bathroom, the whole world on pause for a minute, and I realize none of us have any idea what we’re doing. We’re simply standing at the plate waiting for the next pitch.

We’re leaving for the airport at some ungodly hour, everyone running on four hours of sleep and a dangerous mix of Turkish coffee and leftover baklava. The suite is chaos—suitcases exploding, Mom triple-checking passports, King and Brynn arguing over who packed the better souvenirs.

It’s me and Camdyn in the hallway when Jameson and Callie approach, voices sharp and low but impossible to ignore.

“You could have told me you were fucking him,” Jameson spits, wheeling his suitcase so fast it slams into the wall.

“I wasn’t though,” Callie says, her voice breaking as she struggles with her own bags. “I swear, I wasn’t.”

Jameson lets out a raw, bitter snort. “Bitch, you’re fucking pregnant and you don’t even know whose baby it is.”

Camdyn grabs my arm, eyes wide, and we both freeze.

I’ve never heard Jameson talk to a girl like that in his life.

He’s usually all jokes and swagger, but now there’s nothing but hurt and something sharp behind his eyes.

I want to say something, do something—anything—but I stand there, watching the two of them unravel.

Callie stops, tears rolling steadily down her cheeks. She can barely catch her breath. “I… wasn’t sleeping with him like a lot.”

Jameson laughs, this horrible, hollow sound that echoes down the hotel corridor. “I don’t care. I really do not fucking care anymore.” He storms off, not looking back, his anger trailing behind him like a storm cloud.

Callie stands there, shaking, wiping her face with the back of her hand, and for a second she looks so small, so lost, I almost step forward.

But what could I even say? I look at Camdyn, searching her face for answers, but she looks as helpless as I feel.

There’s nothing either of us can do to fix it—not here, not now.

Fork Guy limps into the lobby, clutching his ankle and looking more offended than hurt.

“I was saying goodbye to the local wildlife,” he says, gesturing dramatically at what looks like a suspiciously fluffy Dubai mongoose lurking outside the hotel doors.

“Apparently, they don’t appreciate a friendly tarot reading.

” He pulls up his sock to reveal a tiny bite mark.

“Do you think it’s venomous, or just emotionally charged? ”

Mom barely glances up from her boarding passes at Fork Guy. “If you start frothing at the mouth, just try not to do it on the Emirates carpet. That’s a cleaning fee I refuse to pay.”

The tension in the air is so thick it’s hard to breathe, and even Fork Guy’s antics only barely cut through it. I glance back at Jameson, his shoulders hunched as he disappears toward the elevator, and then at Callie, who’s hugging herself and looking everywhere but at us.

Camdyn squeezes my hand, her grip tight. I wish I could say something to make it better, but all I can do is stand there and hope that, somehow, we’ll figure out how to put the pieces back together again.

Jameson and Callie are not even pretending to speak to each other.

He’s glued to his phone, headphones in, staring out the shuttle window like he’s in a music video about heartbreak.

Callie’s sitting three rows up, sunglasses on indoors, scrolling through photos and deleting every one that features Jameson’s face.

King tries to lighten the mood, offering Fork Guy a “support mongoose” made out of neck pillows and airport snacks. Fork Guy accepts it solemnly, declaring, “This will be my emotional support animal for the flight. I shall name him Sir Nibbles.”

At security, Fork Guy tries to convince the agent that Sir Nibbles should fly business class and ends up with a stern warning and a pamphlet about “appropriate animal handling.” Brynn documents the whole thing with a running commentary for her followers.

Mom somehow talks the group out of two separate pat-downs and a “random” suitcase search.

As we finally make our way to the gate, Camdyn squeezes my hand and whispers, “Ready to go home?”

I glance back at our ragtag group—Jameson and Callie pointedly ignoring each other, King and Brynn giggling over their matching hats, and Fork Guy lecturing Sir Nibbles about the importance of positive airplane energy—and I nod, smiling.

“Definitely. I wouldn’t mind coming back but next time, maybe leave the wildlife alone. ”

She laughs, and like that, we’re leaving Dubai—one last ridiculous airport adventure before real life starts all over again.

The flight home is both quieter and heavier.

Everyone is exhausted, sunburned, and a little raw from the chaos of the last week.

Fork Guy’s got his head on a tray table, spoon-support mongoose tucked under his arm, muttering about “jet lag and emotional turbulence.” King and Brynn have somehow scored an upgrade to “economy plus” and are making out with zero shame, taking full advantage of the extra legroom.

Jameson buries himself in a hoodie and a playlist, arms crossed, refusing to look at Callie, who’s quietly crying behind her sunglasses.

Camdyn and I squeeze into our seats, hands laced, sharing the headphones she stole from the hotel. She leans her head against my shoulder and closes her eyes, letting the hum of the plane drown out the world.

There’s a weird peace in the cabin, like everyone’s collectively holding their breath. Even Fork Guy has run out of pep talks. He just sighs and says, “Wake me up if we hit turbulence or if they start serving baklava.”

I stare out at the clouds, thinking about everything—about Camdyn and all we’ve survived, about Jameson and Callie and the way one mistake can change your whole life. For the first time, I’m not scared of what’s next. I’m not running from it, either. I’m just… here.

Halfway across the ocean, Camdyn whispers, “You think they’ll be okay?”

I nod, squeezing her hand. “I mean, I hope so.”

She smiles, tired but real. “Best trip ever though.”

I kiss her temple, feeling the truth of it settle deep. “For real.”

The plane touches down in Seattle, and just like that, we’re home—jet-lagged, a little beat up, but somehow stronger for the adventure.

We stumble off the plane and into the gray Pacific Northwest drizzle, blinking in the weak morning light.

Fork Guy salutes the customs agent with his spoon-mongoose and gets flagged for “excessive weirdness,” but Mom smooths it over with a business card and a promise to “keep him sedated with snacks.”

It’s over. The trip of a lifetime—one we’ll be telling stories about until we’re old enough to forget the details and just remember the feeling. The heat, the laughter, the fights, the moments that almost broke us, the ones that brought us back together.

We drag our bags through the rain, the city waking up around us. King immediately calls shotgun for the ride home. Brynn and Callie walk ahead, arms linked, whispering.

Jameson trails behind, a little lost, but not alone.

Camdyn and I fall in step, stealing one last moment before everything else starts again.

We’re not the same kids who left for Dubai. We’re something new. Something better, maybe. Or at least, something real.

Fork Guy shouts, “Next stop, Tokyo!” and everyone groans, but deep down, I know we’d all say yes in a heartbeat.