Just Drive [old version]

[ chapter four ]

Dedicated to RandomGraphic for the cover :]

--&--

Chapter Four - Whipped Cream

                Not even five minutes after he left, Austin sent me a message telling me we were leaving tomorrow. If I was thinking straight, I would’ve told him that we would leave when I was ready, but I obviously didn’t have my head screwed on right. Who agrees to drive their ex-almost-boyfriend all the way to California just so he could see his current girlfriend?

                I couldn’t even muster up the mentality to answer my own self-indulgent questions. Instead, I found myself walking listlessly back up to my room and pulling out my frayed duffel bag.

                The edges of the bag were ripped and torn from six years of track meets and countless, unceremonious shoves and kicks into a locker. Large splotches of dried mud decorated the pink exterior, which was ripped in a few places, exposing the black inside. I found myself running my finger over the tan—it used to be white—Nike swoosh to confirm it was my bag; my logo always had an irregular bump at the tip of it.

                I opened up the bag and was greeted with an unpleasant wave of sweaty, track nostalgia. Quickly closing the bag, I grabbed the worn-out handles and ran downstairs. Just as unceremoniously as I had kicked it into my locker over the years, I tossed it into the washing machine and set it off on a spin.

                Perhaps now I could go back to watching Pokémon in peace.

                Unfortunately, by the time I got back from the basement, Austin had already left me a couple more text messages, each of them with their own short, pithy demand as to what I should do now to prepare for the trip.

                Austin: Pack a swimsuit. Kellie said she’d bring us to the beach

                Austin: Bring a sleeping bag in case the hotels are gross

                Austin: Do you still take pictures? Kellie said California’s beautiful

                Rolling my eyes, I replied to all of his demands with a simple “Okay.”

                Walking back to my room, I realized I don’t have any nice swimsuits. All of my swimsuits were one-pieces I used for cross-training. Nowhere in my entire closet was a simple bikini I could wear to the beach. Sighing, I made a mental resolution to go to Target when my mom came back with her car.

                I sat myself back down on the couch and watched more Pokémon, but eventually, I fell asleep. When I woke up, Tara was already back from school and watching some snobby show on MTV. I looked over at the clock. It was only half past noon.

                “You’re home early,” I commented.

                “I had cramps,” she replied nonchalantly. Judging by the expression in her eyes, I could tell she didn’t really have cramps; she just wanted to get out of school, but everyone believes her lies because I’m her sister, or at least that’s what happened when she was in middle school.

                “You sleep like a pig,” she casually remarked.

                I glared at her, but she didn’t even notice. Brushing off her comment, I asked her if Mom was back with the car.

                “Yeah. Why? Do you need to play chauffeur to one of your invisible friends?”

                I’m surprised I’ve lived with her for this long. I mentally took a deep breath and answered her as calmly as possible. “I need to go shopping.”