On The Road Again

Let me start out by saying that I did not want this to happen.

Really. It wasn't my idea. At. All.

In fact, if I ever see the guy who made this happen--ever again--I will cut off his balls, dice them up, saute them--all while he watches--and then feed them to him.

But, hey, can you blame me?

Though, maybe. Because you don't know what happened. Yeah. My actions would seem more justifiable if you knew why I'd do all that.

So, I'll start over.

Like this (cue dramatic flashback music). . .

 . . .

It all started on a Tuesday (mind you, this is technically where the story begins, but I have to skip a bunch of stuff so I won't have to subject myself--I mean, all of you, to Jo going on and on about eyebrows).

I was out with my best friend since kindergarten (which is impressive, considering how most friendships don't make it through middle school), Jo Martin (it's short for Josephine. Her mom's a huge Little Women's fan). We were shopping for dresses.

Or rather, Jo was shopping. I was trying to get out of this halter-thingie that she made for me, so I couldn't run away.

You could say I don't like shopping.

Anyway, as Jo was trying to decide whether or not to go inside a store we passed to try on a dress she saw in the window, and I was trying to pick one of the numerous padlocks on my leash (you know those backpack leashes for little kids? Imagine one of those, but bigger and made out of chains), a guy passing on the street strikes up a conversation with me (because, you know, chains usually draw attention).

It went like this:

Him: Nice leash.

Me: Thanks. I couldn't decide whether or not to wear the clunky silver chains, or the clunky black chains today.

Him: I think silver works for you.

Me: Thanks. I so value the opinion of total strangers.

At that point it became obvious to me that Jo was not listening. She turned around a moment later to ask me something about the dress, and saw the weirdo I was talking to for no apparent reason.

I'll spare you the gory details.

Basically, it was love at first sight.

So I found out that his name is Travis McClain. He was twenty, and he was in a band.

After that, the two were inseparable.

It was disgusting.

And even worse was Travis' best friend, who also happens to be his manager.

Will.

Ugh, even thinking about him makes me shiver.

And of course, I just have to have this huge crush on him.

Stupid boys. . .

"What?" I look across my room at Jo. She's smiling timidly at me.

"Aw, don't be like that Lake. You know it'd be fun." I give her a look.

"Oh yeah. Traveling cross-country with my best friend, her boyfriend, and his best friend, whom I hate, while the aforementioned best friend's boyfriend and his band are on tour. Yup, it should be a regular past time." I snort and focus back on this month's issue of Ink Fashion.