It was one of those days where the ship’s creaking seemed louder than usual, like the Moby itself was sighing in frustration. I sat there, my elbow propped up on the table, resting my chin in my palm as I stared at the meeting unfolding in front of me.

“...and we’ll need a strategy for—”

I zoned out.

Seriously, I had been sitting through these strategic meetings for what felt like forever. Marco was up front, explaining some plan for the next raid, his words falling on my ears like rainwater. Sure, I could listen, but my mind was elsewhere.

I shifted in my seat, glancing around the room. I could hear someone in the kitchen, likely trying to get his hands on some snacks. Typical. There was no telling how long they'd keep at it, but if there was one thing I knew for sure, it would be the most important meeting would happen the moment the food was ready. You could count on that.

“...and then we’ll need to make sure to—”

I let out a dramatic sigh, drawing a few curious glances from the others in the room. But it didn’t faze me. They all knew I didn’t mind being the odd one out during these things. If I wasn’t trying to get a laugh or get under someone’s skin, I was lost in my own thoughts.

I glanced over at you. You seemed just as uninterested as I was, your eyes flicking to the door, then the clock, and back to the table like you were counting down the minutes until freedom.

“Hey,” I muttered loud enough for you to hear, nudging you lightly with my elbow.

“You think we could make a break for it if we wait until the room gets really boring? I’m thinking a full-on escape, with no one noticing. Marco’s not that good at keeping track of us anyway.”