Chapter Text
Day Zero
“Dude, okay, are we doing this?”
“Flights for $50? A killer Airbnb with a real bed and a bathtub for 20 fucking dollars a night? Bitch, of course we’re doing this!” Ilana’s face flickered in and out of frame as she contorted her surprisingly flexible body into an elaborate dance .
“I don’t know, man. I think my parents might actually kill me,” Abbi groaned, fidgeting with her credit card.
“Only if the plague doesn’t kill you first, bi-yatch!”
“Ilana, don’t joke. What if we never see our parents again?”
“Oh, come on, that was funny. Seriously, Ab, your parents can’t expect you to do a two week quarantine without your best friend in the whole wide world . If they want you to die alone in fucking Pebble, ColorDORKO…”
“Okay, we’ve gone over this before, it’s Boulder …”
“...wherever the fuck thousands of miles away from the MOST important person in your life, that’s on them. At least this way, we’ll die together.”
“Okay okay okay, I’m booking it!” Abbi’s fingers raced over the keyboard and she made a decisive click before she could change her mind.
“Yas, bitch!”
“So what, Bobbi and Arthur are just totally chill with you doing this?”
“Are you kidding? My mom is packing my suitcases full of canned food as we speak. She thinks, correctly I might add, that coronavirus was invented by the Trump administration to wipe out all the brown people and poor people and Jews and queer people crammed together in the big, germ-infested cities where nobody voted for him. I mean, what is New York if not a floating petri dish of minority germs? The Midwest is probably safer.”
“But doesn’t St. Louis have like, a lot of black people?”
“Abbi, that is racist .”
“What? I’m just saying, St. Louis is a big city and has a lot of black people, so like, if your mom thinks Trump wants to use the virus as some kind of ethnic cleansing…”
“Whatever, listen, I have to go. My flight leaves in like an hour.”
“Ilana, WHAT? Are you in Brooklyn or Long Island? I mean, either way, how are you going to get to the airport in time? Plus you’re supposed to give yourself, like, two hours even for domestic flights. A lot of people don’t know that, but it’s on all the airline websites…”
“Puh-lease. This city is deserted. Apparently people didn’t get the memo that the quarantine doesn’t start until TOMORROW. Like, do people not know what day it is? We should appreciate the amazing technology of smartphones that can tell us what day it is while we still have them, am I right? Anyway, I had an entire subway car to myself this morning. I’ll get there in no time.”
“Okay, I guess. Meet you under the arch?”
“You bet, babe,” Ilana made a vaguely arched-shaped gesture with her cupped hands.
“Or, wait, I actually don’t think the airport is that close to the arch. So…?” Abbi trailed off.
“Oh. Right. And where’s our Airbnb again?”
“Let me look at the map...yeah, that’s nowhere near the arch, either. It’s actually closer to the airport than the arch.” The camera suddenly zoomed sharply in on Abbi’s forehead as she held her phone close to her face to squint at Google Maps.
“We could get Lyfts?” Ilana suggested, eyes darting around the room as if already bored with the logistics of planning their glorious reunion.
“What, to the arch? And then...back in the opposite direction to the Airbnb? I know we always said we’d meet under the arch, but maybe we should just meet at the airport?”
“Yepyepyepyep that definitely sounds easier.”
“Okay, see you at the airport I guess!”
“Abbi, wait!”
“What?”
“Don’t forget your go bag!”
“Already got it, babe,” Abbi held up the backpack Ilana had given her on their last day in New York together.
“Ugh, of course you do, ANGEL. Love ya!” Ilana hung up in a flurry of kisses.
“AB! Ab, over here!”
“Ilana! Oh my god, of course,” Abbi hugged her friend, gesturing to Ilana’s face mask, which she had bedazzled with rhinestones spelling out the word KWEEN.
“I mean honestly,it’s the least I can do if the airlines are going to violate my first amendment rights by forcing me to wear a face mask before I board their plane, pandering to the totally false sense of security that masks provide.”
“Yeah, like just learn to wash your freaking hands, am I right?” Abbi took the handle of one of Ilana’s suitcases and led her through the deserted airport.
“But nooo, apparently that’s asking too much of America. We can’t wash our damn hands, and we’d rather trap ourselves inside for two weeks straight? Totally makes sense.”
“So, dude, how many people were on your plane? There were a few rich people in first class who practically drank hand sanitizer any time one of the flight attendants came near them, but I think I was literally the only one in coach,” Abbi said.
“Oh, I have no idea. I slept like a log the entire flight, didn’t even need to pop a Xanax. Turns out the potential of a global super-pandemic soothes all my mental health issues. Go figure,” Ilana shrugged.
“Huh. Maybe because everything else just seems insignificant in comparison?” Abbi suggested as they exited the airport into the deserted arrivals pickup area.
“Okay, let’s just get a Lyft. Do you think it’ll be super expensive or super cheap?” Abbi asked.
“Mmm, my bet’s on cheap. Evil corporate overlords are desperate to squeeze any cent they can out of this crisis.”
“Wait, it says there’s a big surge price but it’s only like…$8? That can’t be right ,” Abbi refreshed the screen, waiting for the price to change.
“HA, I always forget that literally everything is cheaper outside of New York. Yet another reason this plan is brilliant,” Ilana cackled as a lone car pulled up the road and stopped in front of them.
“Hi, are you...Tom?” Abbi read the name on her screen.
“Ab, this is literally the only car we’ve seen in this entire city, it has to be him,” Ilana said, pulling their suitcases towards the trunk.
“Hey, do NOT touch the car,” Tom sprung out of the car, decked out in an old pair of scrubs, latex gloves, and two face masks directly on top of each other.
“Okay, okay, easy,” Ilana took a step back, “If you’re this paranoid, why are you driving a fucking Lyft the day before the quarantine starts?”
“Please put these on,” he threw gloves and scrubs at them before returning to the driver’s side to get a bottle of Lysol, which he used to spray the handles of their suitcases and the rear door of the car.
“Geez, okay…” The girls clambered into their gloves and scrubs, Ilana twisting her shirt up into a flattering crop top.
“I have some complimentary water and phone chargers back there. Would you ladies like a complimentary mint?” The driver dug his gloved fingers into a bag of Lifesavers and popped a mint into his mouth. The girls shared a glance.
“Um...no...thanks?” Abbi said.
“Suit yourselves,” he shrugged.
“Do you think he realizes that all the germs he’s been touching with those gloves all day are now in his mouth?” Abbi whispered.
“I don’t know, but I’m not gonna be the one to tell him. Your Lyft rating cannot afford to take another hit, gwurl,” Ilana whispered back.
“Ugh, so true,” Abbi turned to look out the window at the empty streets passing by, until Ilana poked her.
“So you brought some Mary Jane, right?” Ilana asked.
“What? No! I assumed you would! You always have some in your...vag or whatever,” Abbi dropped her voice, but Tom didn’t seem to be listening.
“Oh my God, Ilana, do you not have any weed? How the fuck are we supposed to get through a two week quarantine without weed? And I don’t know where to find any in St. Louis! Do we even know anyone in St. Louis?!”
“Ha, kidding! Who do you take me for? I have enough to keep us happily high in our little love nest until the end of the world. Speaking of, I think we’re here!” The car pulled to a stop in front of a small apartment building.
“DON’T touch the doors! I’ll get them for you!” Tom raced to open the doors and get their suitcases on the curb.
“Alright, alright FINE!” They took a step back and began taking off their scrubs.
“Hey, don’t touch the scrubs without the gloves on,” he said, snatching them away from Abbi.
“Don’t talk to her that way. And you know what, dude? Learn the fucking basics of hygiene before you go lecturing my best friend like she’s some kind of plague rat. Now if you don’t give Abbi here a 5 star rating, I’m going to spit on these scrubs and throw them at you. Do we understand each other?” Ilana hissed like a cat.
“Fine. But only if you give me 5 stars too,” Tom grumbled.
“I mean, that’s a given, we’re not evil . Smell ya later,” Ilana turned away towards the building, where an envelope with Abbi’s name on it had been taped to the mailbox.
“I hope you enjoy your stay, please do NOT call me with any questions. Assuming we all live through this, there will be an additional cleaning fee after you check out,” Abbi read from the host’s note.
“And she’s just left the key in there where anyone could have taken it. Jesus, overreacting much?” she continued.
“But hey, two weeks straight with my best friend? Sounds like heaven to me,” Ilana said, grabbing her suitcase in one hand and Abbi’s ass in the other.