“Bye, guys! See ya in Cancun!” Skyler and I sent them a wave, hyper since our family were for sure going to Cancun. After parting directions with the Nam family, we made our way through the plane, occasionally throwing back glances at the remaining four figures who had to wait about 2 more hours until their flight.

It was not long until our plane arrived at the location. “Yes! We’re here.” I vigorously shook a still not sober Skyler up from her slumber.

Unlike the last Connecting Airways arrival, this one was much more orderly fashioned; no shoving, no yelling, no out of hand chaos.  

“Skyler, hurry up and get out. The person who sat next to you already left,” I urged.

Her eyes darted around the plane, and sure enough, they both caught onto the guy who was now rolling his brown luggage out of the door. “Oh.” Swiftly coming up with an excuse, Skyler defended, “But we have to wait for Dad to come help us get the luggages from the overhead compartment.”

“Right.”

And before we knew it, our family finally made our way out of the terminal and, after going through some custom check-in, we got to the luggage claim. “Okay, so let’s quickly grab our luggages and get outta here. I don’t want to be anywhere near this stupid airline any long- OH! Our luggage!” Our dad rushed for the large violet suitcase. After checking the location, he was met with disappointment, stating that it belonged to another person. He hastily threw it back on the luggage belt.

    “Dad, look, there’s one of our luggages,” Skyler exclaimed. Upon gaining that baggage, minutes passed by, slowly making us lose hope that the other luggage was not going to arrive because of the dumb delay at Dallas.

    Half recognizing the faint purple that colored the suitcase, I hesitantly directed a finger at it. “Oh, wait, isn’t that our luggage?” Our dad ran towards and lifted it out of the belt.

    “Are you sure?” Absentmindedly, our dad ped the front of the luggage to confirm if it really was ours. “What? I don’t remember packing a curling iron.” Without any further ado, our dad tossed the bag back.

    Our mom, with widened eyes, scolded, “Hey! That luggage belongs to us! Why did you just throw it back on the belt?!”

    “What?!” Stumbling between his steps, he dashed after the luggage that was about to go through another loop. “Nooo, wait.” Even though he was quite tired for taking the luggages out and throwing them back in, he succeeded in getting our bag through his exhaustion. He sent us an awkward grin. “Phew! That was close.” Our mom rolled her eyes, as my sister and I ran to his side to congratulate him.

    “Mom… Isn’t that Mrs.Annie’s luggage?” My eyes latched onto a gray suitcase that had a tag labeled “Nam, Annie.”

“It’s okay,” my mom waved a hand dismissively.. “They’ll come here later anyway.”

    Making our way out of the airport, we were greeted with a slap of moist, overly humid air, which made me almost want to hop back on the p