Airports, Exes, and Other Things I'm Over

Airports, Exes, and Other Things I'm Over

Airports, Exes, and Other Things I'm Over

Airports, Exes, and Other Things I'm Over

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A bad storm, two cancelled flights, trapped with the guy who broke her heart…Shani Petroff delivers laugh out loud comedy and unforgettable disasters in this highly relatable comedy of errors about a teen stuck in an airport with her cheating ex. Flight delayed. Send help. Not him. After Sari caught her boyfriend Zev cheating on her, their romantic Florida vacation was ruined. She can't get back to NYC soon enough. 

Unfortunately, Mother Nature may have different plans. A huge storm is brewing in the Northeast, and flights all over the country are getting canceled - including Sari's. She winds up stuck at the airport for hours. With Zev! When another stranded passenger (a hot NYU guy) suggests a connecting flight to Boston, Sari jumps at the chance. But when her mom freaks out about her traveling alone, she has no choice - she has to include Zev, and somehow survive being trapped with the guy who broke her heart! 

Author Shani Petroff looks at both heartbreak and forgiveness in her latest YA comedy of errors, Airports, Exes, and Other Things I'm Over.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781978647244
Publisher: Brilliance Audio
Publication date: 07/17/2018
Edition description: Unabridged
Product dimensions: 5.25(w) x 6.75(h) x 0.50(d)
Age Range: 10 - 14 Years

About the Author

Shani Petroff is a writer living in New York City. She is the author of Romeo and What's Her Name, My New Crush Gave to Me, and the Bedeviled series, which includes Daddy's Little Angel; The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly Dress; Careful What You Wish For; and Love Struck, and is the coauthor of Ash. She also writes for television news programs and several other venues. When she's not locked in her apartment typing away, she spenda a whole lot of time on books, boys, TV, daydreaming, and online shopping.

Read an Excerpt


Could people actually pass out from excitement? I was starting to think so as I clutched my best friend Trina Gibson's arm. My body was trembling. Literally. I didn't even know that could happen. Sure, in rom-coms and steamy, smutty novels, but in real life? Come on. Yet, here I was shaking like a kindergartener desperately in need of a bathroom. All because Kevin Wayward, music god, had taken the stage, and I, Sari Silver, music god wannabe, was there to witness it firsthand. There wasn't even an adjective to explain what I was feeling. Exhilarated, elated, ecstatic, euphoric, some other e-word? All I knew was that this was where I needed to be.

It didn't matter that I didn't get a table, despite getting to the club a couple of hours early and being subjected to two less-than-stellar (to put it nicely) bands, or that I was squished next to my best friend and a bunch of strangers up against a musty-smelling wall. The discomfort was worth it. Spring break was beginning in the most kick-ass way possible.

"We are actually here. This is really happening," I said, practically squealing.

"I know," Trina said. "We earned this." She held up her free arm, the one I wasn't latched onto, and the fluorescent green wristband slid down her dark-brown skin.

"Yes, we did." Everyone in the music world knew the Meta Club. Countless legends got their start there, and often returned to perform. Trina and I wanted in. It was a twenty-one and over club, but we didn't let that stop us. There were months of failed fake ID attempts, begging, singing outside the club until we sweet-talked (or bugged to death, depending on who you talked to) them into letting us in. Since then we'd seen so many amazing shows, and tonight was the icing on the cake. Sure, we had to wear wristbands that kept the bartenders from serving us drinks, but who cared? We were in Meta, and the place gave me a natural buzz.

Kevin held up his hands to quiet the crowd, and I grabbed Trina tighter. I was about to hear Kevin Wayward live. There was a good chance I really was going to lose consciousness.

"As some of you know," he said. "I wandered into this little club in the Village five years ago and, well, the rest is history." History that included getting discovered his first time performing here and going on to win five Grammys — something I would kill for. "But I haven't forgotten my start and that's why I'm back tonight."

Everyone started screaming and applauding again, and Trina turned to me. "That's going to be you someday."

I crossed my fingers and my toes. "Hopefully."

"Definitely," she said.

I knew she was just being a good best friend, but I couldn't help praying her words would come true. The image of people lining up to see Sari Silver in concert washed over me. It was what I wanted more than anything.

Kevin Wayward picked up his guitar, stepped closer to the mic, and within seconds let his music pour out. Chills ran through my body. He was so good. It wasn't just that his voice was raw and soulful but that his lyrics were haunting and catchy at the same time. It was just him and his guitar, but it was enough. If I could affect people with my music even a portion of the way he did, I'd be very happy.

By the time Kevin finished his set, I'll admit, I was in total awe. In one song the guy had me almost in tears, the next totally wanting to kiss my boyfriend, and the last tapping my foot and singing along with the rest of the audience at the top of my lungs. Listening to his recordings was nothing compared to hearing him live — it was like the emotions registered ten times higher.

My hands were numb from clapping so hard. "That was incredible," I said, once the room died down. Trina and I moved to a nearby table. Another act was about to take the stage, but the room had pretty much cleared out once Kevin left. "I cannot believe Mike didn't want to come."

Mike Wilson was her boyfriend of three years.

She waved her hand. "You know he has no taste in music. Even if he hadn't gone away with his family for the weekend, he wouldn't have showed. He would have been all about Paul's party."

"Well it is the 'party of the year,'" I said, making air quotes. At least that's what Paul and everyone else were calling it. Not that they weren't right. A party at the start of spring break our senior year, in Paul's giant town house while his parents were out, had the makings of an epic night. Although not as epic as this concert. This was everything.

"Thank you for skipping it to come here with me," Trina said.

"Are you kidding me? Like I'd miss this."

She shrugged. "Yeah, but Zev is Paul's cousin; I know he wanted you to be there."

"You and I have been planning tonight for ages. My boyfriend can handle the evening without me. No way I was going to cancel. This is our night. Besides, Zev's got me all week." I raised my eyebrows up and down. Tonight was just the start of my vacation, and if it was any indicator of what was to come, this was going to be a week I'd still be talking about when I was eighty.

She shook her head. "I still can't believe you convinced your parents to let you spend spring break in Florida with your boyfriend."

"Just call me the parent whisperer." Although we both knew that wasn't true. My parents could be a little helicopterish, which meant I had to fudge the truth here and there. In this instance, I told them I wanted to spend my vacation at my gram's in Florida. It wasn't until after I booked my nonrefundable flight that I let them know Zev was going to be spending the week down there, too. His grandparents lived about seven minutes away from my gram in Boca. My parents were less than thrilled with this development. But, hey, it wasn't my fault the area was basically a mecca for old people from Manhattan. At least that's how I explained it to them. They gave in. Probably figured I couldn't get into too much trouble while staying at a retirement village. I hoped to prove them wrong.

"We can still catch some of the party if we go now," Trina offered. "Don't tell me you're not curious. You're always curious."

"Seriously, I'm fine with anything. It's totally up to you. We Are Now is performing next. They're pretty good."

Trina scrunched her nose. "They're okay. I'm just sick of them already. I don't know why they keep getting booked every single week. You should be up there."

"Tell me about it." I'd been leaving demo after demo for Sheila, the club's owner, but so far all I'd gotten was an I'll let you know. "We can do something else if you want. This night is all yours. You're the one stuck here all break."

"Yeah." Trina let out a sigh. "With my sister. Why does NYU have to have the same break as us?" Her sister, Keisha, was a junior at New York University — the same school Trina had decided she'd go to next year — and she was driving Trina batty with her nonstop "college wisdom and experience." I would never tell Trina this, best-friend code and all meant I had to take her side 100 percent of the time, but I could see where Keisha was coming from. I'd probably do the same thing if my little brother wound up at the same school as me.

"Let's see how the party looks," Trina said, and pulled out her phone. She punched up GroupIt and scrolled through what seemed like a million photos. She froze and looked up at me. "You are not going to like this. At all. We should get to the party now."

I took a deep breath. "What is it?"

She turned the phone so I could get a clear look. "Bethanne is hanging all over Zev."

I let the air out. "Is that it? That's no surprise."

"Umm ... why aren't you freaking out?" she asked. "You're the one who said she wants him back."

I shrugged. "I know, but he doesn't want her. I told Zev what she was up to and he swore up and down that they were just friends. I trust him."

Trina nodded. She knew how much he loved me. The guy was getting on an airplane for me tomorrow, and that was major. He had a huge flying phobia. Enough so that his family drove the last four times they went to Florida. That wasn't all. He brought my whole family chicken soup when we all caught the flu, he helped my brother with his bar mitzvah lessons, he listened to me practice guitar for hours just so he could spend more time with me, and he always put me first. There were a lot of things that I freaked out about, but Zev cheating was not one of them.

Trina went back to swiping. "It's still annoying," she said. "Look at this. It says she tagged Zev Geller in seven photos. I really can't stand her."

I rolled my eyes. She wasn't alone. Bethanne Dubois was not exactly my favorite person, either. I found her to be smug and obnoxious and that was before I started dating her ex. Not that I had anything to do with the breakup. She ended things with him the fall of sophomore year. Zev and I didn't even really know each other until we became juniors. We started dating that December. Obviously, I didn't love that Bethanne was making a play for him, even if Zev couldn't see it for what it was, but I knew it wasn't going to amount to anything. So if Zev wanted her as a friend, while I didn't quite understand it, I could live with it.

"I think we should go to the party," Trina said.

"Not if this is because of Bethanne," I told her.

"It's not. There are a ton of people there. And look." She pointed to another picture on her phone. "Trevor's there with his new boyfriend. He's been talking about him for weeks. I haven't met him yet. We're all going to prom together; it would be nice to get to know him beforehand, right?"

"Yeah." Although I wasn't positive that was her true motive, I was never one to pass up a good party. And even though I'd be seeing Zev tomorrow, the idea of hanging out with him tonight too made me smile. It would be the perfect end to a perfect night.


"You know you drive almost as bad as my gram," I told Trina once I was safely out of her car.

Paul had a totally sick town house. Unfortunately, it was out of the way of any public transportation and way too long of a walk.

"Which is why my parents like me to practice," she answered, matter-of-factly. Being in Manhattan, we didn't tend to drive much. My family didn't even have a car, but Trina's did. It primarily lived in a parking garage, but every so often one of them took it out. I wanted to take a cab to Paul's, but Trina insisted on driving. I knew my parents would have flipped, they were not fans of teen drivers, but I decided this was one of those things they didn't need to know about. After all, chances were good Trina had more skills behind the wheel than some of the cab drivers I'd ridden with. "And you are not one to talk," she pointed out.

"Very true." I didn't have a license. I hadn't even bothered taking driver's ed. I didn't have a car to practice with, I always planned on going to college in the city (and now that I got into the Manhattan School of Music, I was definitely sticking around), and there were enough cabs and car services to make it seem like a waste of time. Trina assured me I would regret the decision, but so far I hadn't.

"And did you see the way I nailed the parallel parking?" she said. "One shot. Right in."

"Very impressive," I told her. "Your keys," I said, pointing to the car.

"Oh yeah." Trina was the smartest person I knew, but could be completely absentminded when it came to the little stuff like locking doors or remembering to take her things. Although the car keys weren't entirely her fault. She was used to leaving them in the engine for the parking attendant. She grabbed the keys, clicked the locks shut, then struggled to fit the keychain into her wristlet.

"Give it to me," I said, and tossed it into my purse.

Trina traveled light. Phone, apartment key, credit card, license, a couple of bucks, and a lip gloss — that was it. Me on the other hand? My bag was a bottomless pit. It had everything: a notebook and pen to write down lyrics that popped into my head, Band-Aids, a flashlight, a glue stick, sunscreen, makeup, aspirin, an umbrella, a book, and a variety of other supplies — because you never know what you might need. I thought it was very Mary Poppins of me, but Zev joked it was like I was in training to be a Let's Make a Deal audience member. The show's host gave people money for having random things on them. But Zev could make fun all he wanted — he wasn't laughing when his pants split right before his improv show last month (okay, he kind of was) and I came to the rescue with a needle and thread.

"Kind of quiet for the party of the year," I said as we walked up the steps to Paul's.

"Maybe everyone left already." We got to the door. "Do I knock or just go in?" Trina asked.

I pressed my ear up and smiled as I made out the familiar beat to one of my favorite songs coming from inside. "They're still in there," I said, and tried the handle. It was open.

"Quick, shut the door!" someone yelled before we even fully stepped inside. It was our friend, Amy. "Sorry," she said, after we did as instructed. "One of the neighbors threatened to call the cops, so Paul put me on door duty."

A possible visit by the police? Paul's party could very well live up to the hype.

Trina tensed up. "I will be grounded for life if we get busted here."

Even though it was ages ago, her parents, and mine, were still pretty pissed over the fake ID thing.

"I think we'll be okay. Besides we're already here," I reminded her. Now that we were, I was kind of excited. It looked like the whole senior class and then some were crammed inside Paul's place. I didn't want to leave before we even got a chance to say hi to everyone. "Just one drink, maybe two, then we're out of here," I assured her.

She gave me a look. "Yeah, I know," I said. I always mean to just pop in and stay for fifteen minutes, but somehow, I always wind up being the last one to leave. "But this time I mean it." I held up three fingers. "Scouts honor. I have my flight tomorrow. I need some sleep."

Trina still looked skeptical.

"Besides," I said, "we didn't hear anything outside. As long as Amy keeps doing her job, we'll be fine. No one will call the cops."

"You're right," Trina said, her body relaxing. "And worst-case scenario, I guess a jail cell beats staying in my apartment with my sister."

I shook my head. "Come on," I said, taking her arm and pulling her through the crowd. I wanted to find Zev.

"Drinks are in the kitchen," Amy called after us.

We didn't make it that far, though. "You're here!" Trevor said, catching us midway. "I thought you had the concert?"

"We did and it was ..." I gestured to show my head exploding. "We thought we'd finish up the night here."

"Nice." He introduced us to his new boyfriend, Dominick. The two met at an internship orientation for the city's Department of Design and Construction. Trevor was into the design aspect and Dom the engineering. When Trina heard that, I knew where the conversation was headed. The mere mention of anything STEM related was all it took to draw her in. My eyes glazed over as she and Dom threw around terms like microscale sensors, fluidic systems, and MEMS.

"Some of this will help," Trevor said, pointing to his drink.

"What is it?"

"A wide assortment of what I found lying around," he said, offering me the cup. "Want some?"

"Uhh, yeah." I winked at him and took a huge sip. Then I did everything possible not to spit it back in the cup. "Oh my God. That was disgusting."

Trevor laughed. "Maybe not my best creation, but I worked with what I had. There's beer in the kitchen. And I think you'll find something else you'll like in there."


"At least as of a few minutes ago."

"Then I will be right back. Anybody else want anything?" I asked.

They all shook their head. Trina rarely drank and never when she was driving.

"Sari!" my physics partner Jeremy said when I entered the kitchen. "Want?" he asked, holding up a beer.

I nodded.


"No!" I yelled, moving closer. The chances of the bottle actually landing in my hands were about as good as Kevin Wayward materializing in a burst of smoke. Probably worse.

"Thanks," I said, taking the drink from him. "Have you seen Zev?"

I couldn't wait to tell him all about the concert.

"Over by the fridge, last I saw," Jeremy said.

"'K, I'll be right back." After listening to all those Kevin Wayward songs, no one could possibly blame me for wanting to snuggle up beside my boyfriend. Some of those songs were seriously hot.

I squeezed through a couple of people to try to get to the other side of the room. Zev was the tallest guy in our class, so he'd be easy to find. I thought I spotted the back of his head, but the guy in front of me was blocking my view.


Excerpted from "Airports, Exes, and Other Things I'm Over"
by .
Copyright © 2018 Shani Petroff.
Excerpted by permission of Feiwel and Friends.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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