Excitement for their weekend getaway turned to anger when Romy’s friends skipped paying their share of the $2,000 cabin. Little did they know, she had a smart plan to make sure they paid up.
Every year, my friends and I plan a girls’ weekend trip. We take turns planning, and this time it was my turn! I was thrilled to find the perfect spot: a cozy cabin right by a sparkling lake.
We all screamed with joy when I showed the photos.
The cabin looked like something from a magazine. It had a warm fireplace, amazing lake views, and even a hot tub.
The total cost was $2,000 for three nights, which came to a fair $250 each for our group of eight.
“Since I booked the cabin and paid up front,” I told my friends, “it’d be great if you all sent me your share before we go. Sound good?”
“Perfect, Romy!” Bird said first. “Thanks for doing it.”
“No problem at all,” Till added.
“Count me in!” Pearl said.
One by one, everyone agreed.
“Looks good!”
“I got it.”
The yeses kept coming. Everyone seemed ready to pay and promised to send the money before the trip.
Easy, right?
Not even close.
As the trip got closer, the plan fell apart.
First, Bird said, “Hey, Romy, my car needs new tires, so I might be late with the money. I’ll send it next week.”
A week later, Pearl messaged, “Ugh, my credit card bill is huge this month. Can I wait till my next paycheck?”
“Just waiting on my next pay,” Till said.
Weeks went by, and as I reminded them, the excuses kept coming.
Each excuse was different, like they’d made them up together.
Then came silence. No replies, no calls, nothing from Gus, Dren, Kitty, or even reliable Fern.
By the week before the trip, I was out $2,000 and felt totally used.
The same people I called friends had quietly refused to pay. The ones I trusted most had ganged up on me.
Why were they doing this?
Had I done something wrong? Or was this a test to see if I’d let them walk over me? I wasn’t sure, but it made me mad.
I knew I had to do something strong to show I wasn’t weak.
So, I made a plan they’d never forget. I don’t like drama, but this was too much.
The night before the trip, I took a deep breath and grabbed my phone to start my plan.
I sent a group text full of fake excitement. “So pumped to see you all at the cabin tomorrow! It’s gonna be an awesome weekend!”
They had no idea what I had ready.
The next morning, I woke early and jumped out of bed. I got dressed fast and rushed out, ready to set up the perfect retreat.
At the store, I pushed my cart through the aisles.
A small grin grew on my face as I loaded it with fresh berries, cheeses, and enough snacks for everyone. I even got great wines and sodas. I wanted my friends to eat well and feel good.
After paying, I drove to the cabin. It was even better in person, with sunlight dancing on the lake like tiny jewels.
I filled the fridge with all the food.
I even set up a bonfire for the night, with soft blankets and s’mores stuff.
The place was perfect. I knew my friends would love it here.
But here’s the trick: I took the keys and garage opener with me when I left for an “errand.”
Before locking up, I texted everyone that I was out on a quick task and would be there when they arrived. They trusted me, just like I had trusted them to pay.
But they broke my trust, so I broke theirs back.
If they wanted the cabin, they had to follow my rules. They had to earn their weekend.
I wasn’t letting them have fun while ignoring my messages.
By noon, my phone blew up. Crazy texts and calls came from my friends.
“Romy, we’re here, but it’s locked!” Gus said.
“Did you forget something?” Bird asked.
I stayed calm and replied, “Oh no! So sorry, guys. I must’ve left the keys at home. But don’t worry, I’m on my way back now!”
Was I on my way? No!
I was sitting at a nearby café, drinking a cold mocha. I enjoyed reading their texts as they showed up one by one.
After my last message, their texts slowed. They felt better thinking I was coming, but I wasn’t.
When their short relief ended, the calls and texts started again, more upset now. Some were annoyed, some barely holding on.
“How could you forget, Romy?” Fern asked.
“I can’t believe you left us out here!” Kitty snapped. “This was supposed to be fun.”
Finally, I sent the big message.
I wrote calmly: “I’ll be glad to come back and let you in, but only after everyone sends their share of the rent.”
Silence.
Then, a flood of action.
Clearly, the idea of a perfect weekend beat out car problems, credit card bills, and all their other reasons.
My phone buzzed with Venmo, PayPal, and Cash App alerts as payments came in.
In one hour, every dollar was there.
“You could’ve done this weeks ago!” I said to myself before grabbing the keys and driving back.
Their faces lit up when they saw my car. Some walked to me, some to the door.
“Romy! Thank goodness!” Bird said, relief clear.
I got out, keys in hand. “Oh, so now I’m ‘thank goodness’ Romy? How nice,” I said, voice sharp with sarcasm.
The group went quiet, guilt on their faces.
“I’m sorry,” Pearl started. “But you have to see, I was really—”
I stopped her. “No, Pearl. You all made excuses. I trusted you, and you used me.”
Fern stepped forward, trying to fix it. “Romy, we messed up. Can we just forget it and enjoy the weekend?”
“Enjoy the weekend?” I laughed. “After you made me feel stupid? After I had to trick you to get my money?”
“We didn’t mean to hurt you,” Gus said quietly. “We didn’t think—”
“Didn’t think what? That $2,000 matters? That friendship means trust and fairness?”
A heavy quiet fell over the group. For a second, I worried I went too far. Maybe they’d leave.
But I stood strong, letting my words sink in.
Finally, Bird broke the silence. She pulled me into a big hug.
“Romy, I’m sorry about the tire excuse. You were right to be mad.”
Pearl added, “Yeah, me too. I’m sorry. We all are.”
They finally got it.
I took a deep breath, looking at each of them. “I’m glad you see it now. But remember, respect works both ways.”
We may not plan another big cabin trip soon, but at least we’ll do it with real responsibility and understanding.
This whole thing made a story to remember, even if it wasn’t the calm weekend I wanted.
But sometimes, the best lessons come with a little anger and a lot of strength.
