Excitement for the weekend getaway turned into pure frustration when Sarah’s friends tried to dodge paying their share of the $2,000 cabin rental. What they didn’t know was that Sarah had a clever plan to make sure they didn’t get away with it.
Every year, my friends and I plan a girls’ weekend trip. We take turns organizing it, and this year was my turn! I couldn’t wait to find the perfect spot. After hours of scrolling online, I finally landed on the most beautiful place: a cozy cabin right on a sparkling blue lake.
When I sent the pictures in our group chat, everyone squealed.
The cabin looked like something out of a magazine. A stone fireplace, giant windows overlooking the lake, and even a bubbling hot tub waiting outside.
The total cost was $2,000 for three nights, which worked out to only $250 each for our group of eight. Super reasonable!
Since I booked it upfront, I covered the full payment myself. At our coffee meetup, I told everyone,
“Hey, since I went ahead and booked the cabin, I paid the $2,000 upfront. But if you could all send me your $250 before the trip, that would be great. Does that work for everyone?”
“Sounds perfect, Sarah!” Mary chimed in with a smile. “Thanks for handling all that.”
“Absolutely, no problem at all,” Ella agreed quickly.
“Great, that works for me too!” Brittany said, nodding.
The others followed one after another:
“Yep, that’s fine.”
“No worries, I’ll send it.”
Everyone confirmed. I felt relieved. It seemed like everything was settled and smooth. Easy peasy, right?
Wrong.
The closer the trip got, the worse it became.
First, Mary messaged me.
“Hey Sarah,” she chirped, “my car needs new brakes, so I might be a little late on my payment. I’ll send it next week, promise!”
Next came Brittany.
“Ugh, student loans are killing me this month. Can I hold off until my next payday?”
Then Melissa said, “I just need to wait until my next paycheck.”
One by one, the excuses started piling up. And strangely, none of them overlapped. Each friend had a different reason, almost like they had secretly coordinated this.
Soon after, the rest went silent. Ella didn’t answer my texts. Dana didn’t pick up her phone. Even Lisa—my most reliable friend—was suddenly quiet.
By the week before the trip, I was still out $2,000. The very people I called my “friends” had left me hanging.
I kept wondering, Why are they doing this? Did I do something wrong?
But then anger replaced confusion. No way was I going to be treated like a doormat.
I decided it was time for a lesson they wouldn’t forget.
The night before the trip, I took a deep breath and grabbed my phone. I typed into the group chat with fake excitement:
“Can’t wait to see you all at the cabin tomorrow! Gonna be the perfect weekend getaway!”
Little did they know, I had a plan in motion.
The next morning, I woke up early, threw on some comfy clothes, and raced out the door.
At the grocery store, I filled my cart with snacks, cheeses, fresh fruit, bottles of wine, juices, and marshmallows for roasting. I wanted the place to look absolutely perfect.
When I arrived, the cabin was even more stunning than the photos. The sunlight sparkled across the lake like diamonds.
I stocked the fridge, prepped the firepit with blankets and s’mores supplies, and left the cabin looking like a dreamy vacation home.
Then—I locked everything up, grabbed the keys and garage opener, and left.
Before leaving, I sent a message:
“Hey girls, running a quick errand. I’ll be back by the time you all arrive.”
They trusted me, the same way I trusted them when I asked for their share. Except they broke my trust. Now it was my turn.
By lunchtime, my phone blew up with calls and texts.
“Hey, Sarah, we’re here at the cabin, but the doors are locked!” Ella wrote.
Mary asked, “Did you forget something?”
I smiled, sitting comfortably at a café nearby with my iced latte. Calmly, I replied:
“Oh no! So sorry, guys. Must’ve left the keys at home. Don’t worry—I’m on my way back!”
Of course, I wasn’t.
They all stopped worrying at first, thinking I’d show up any minute. But when time dragged on, the messages got more desperate.
Lisa snapped, “How can you be so forgetful, Sarah?”
Dana added, “I can’t believe you’re making us wait like this. I thought this was supposed to be fun.”
That’s when I decided to drop the bomb.
I texted:
“Look, I’ll be happy to come back and let you in… but only once everyone has sent over their share of the rental cost.”
At first—silence.
Then, chaos. My phone started buzzing like crazy.
Suddenly, the excuses vanished. Car repairs, student loans, late paychecks—all forgotten. The idea of missing out on a luxury weekend clearly mattered more.
Within an hour, my phone filled with Venmo, PayPal, and Zelle notifications. Every last penny was paid.
I grinned. You guys could’ve done this before.
Finally, I drove back to the cabin.
The group looked both relieved and guilty when I pulled in.
“Sarah! Finally!” Mary exclaimed, rushing forward.
I stepped out slowly, jingling the keys. “Oh, so now I’m ‘finally’ here? That’s interesting.” My voice dripped with sarcasm.
The group went silent.
“Look, I’m sorry,” Brittany started, “but you have to understand, I really—”
I cut her off. “No, Brittany. You all made excuses. I trusted you, and you used me.”
Lisa tried to smooth things over. “Sarah, we messed up. But can’t we just enjoy the weekend now?”
I shook my head. “Enjoy the weekend? After I had to practically blackmail you into paying me back?”
Ella’s voice was quiet. “We didn’t mean to hurt you. We just… didn’t realize.”
“Didn’t realize what?” I shot back. “That $2,000 is a lot of money? That friendships need respect and trust?”
The air grew heavy with silence. For a moment, I thought they’d pack up and leave.
But then Mary suddenly hugged me. “Sarah, I’m sorry. You’re right. I should’ve just paid instead of making excuses.”
Brittany nodded. “Yeah, me too. I’m sorry. We’re all sorry.”
Slowly, the others agreed.
I looked at each of them. “I’m glad you finally understand. But remember, respect is a two-way street. Don’t ever treat me like that again.”
They nodded, guilty but grateful I hadn’t abandoned the trip altogether.
The weekend went on, and though things weren’t perfect, there was a new sense of responsibility in the air.
It wasn’t the relaxing vacation I had imagined, but it turned into a story none of us would ever forget.
Sometimes, the strongest lessons come wrapped in frustration, courage, and a little bit of revenge.