Road Trip

Road Trip: Chapter Three

"You smell" Logan commented, rolling down his window. "Yeah, well, you're ugly" I shot back, turning up the music on the radio. 

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, baby" He muttered, following his dad down the dirt road.

My Mom had decided that for some god forsaken reason, Molly just had  to bring her friend, Lucille with her on this trip. She was insisting it was because Molly would be lonely, as me and Logan were 'the same age' and apparently this meant that we could 'entertain each other'. We all knew, bar Molly, however, that my Mom had only done this because she didn't want to put up with Molly moaning the entire trip. I got it, packing up for over a month to drive across the country with your two children, your husband and your two step-children to go and meet your husbands ex wife and mother of said step-children was probably stressful enough, never mind with her youngest moaning every five minuets. I had also come to same conclusion, and when my Mom had mentioned she could bring a friend, I had been surprisingly pleased. It meant I didn't have to put up with her at least. That was until I realised who it was, however.

Apart from that, as far as I was concerned last night, this trip was actually going to be a bit more bearable. That was, until my Mom told me the change in seating arrangements. This morning. Giving me no time to fake my own kidnapping.

It was a given that Logan was driving alone, and he would be taking the bulk of our luggage. The original plan was that Matt would drive the other car, with me, Molly, Grace and my Mom as his passengers. But seeing as Molly was now bringing Lucille, I was stuck riding with the devil reincarnated. And trust me, it was a long ride.

We'd been on the road now for at least six hours (without a toilet break, I might add), and I was full on about to go insane. We'd spent the first hour arguing over the radio station, and the second hour arguing over whether or not I could put my feet on his dash. The third hour had gone in silence, yet it wasn't a comfortable one, and the fourth hour had held arguments over Logan pulling into the nearest service station for me to use the toilet. After losing that one, the fifth hour was us arguing over Logan's choice of lunch, as he didn't see a problem with packing tuna sandwiches and didn't seem to realise the stench of them was repulsing. And then here we were, six hours in and he was blaming me for the weird smell in his car.

"Logan please, for the love of God, pull into a gas station or something. I will actually pee on your seat if you don't." I whined, clenching my jean glad legs together as I tightened my hands around the sides of the passenger seat.

"You wouldn't dare," he scoffed, pressing his finger down the window button, making the glass go all the way down. Glaring at him, I lifted the arm closes to him, punching him in the bicep. I'd like to say my punch was so strong that it made him swerve the car or something, but the bastard didn't even flinch.

"I'll make you a deal. I'll pull into the next place that can facilitate to your ridiculously  weak bladder, if you give me that Katie girls number." He smirked, his head turning so his blue eyes met my green ones.

He was taking the piss right? My best friend?

"You're joking, yeah? You can't seriously be blackmailing her number from me in exchange for a BASIC HUMAN NEED?" My voice turned hysterical at the end, and my jaw was left swinging open.

"Look doll, I can't help if you're best friends with a ten, can I? You should be thankful I haven't asked before- I mean, come on, its obvious. There's only one reason she's best friends with you anyway. To get close to me. Why else? Look at her, and then look at you."

Of course, this was all said with his classic smirked slapped across his face, and part of me hoped he was joking, just trying to piss me off. But something in his eyes was different, they weren't twinkling with mischief like usual. No, he actually looked serious, and the way he was looking at me; and well, it was the way you look at someone you hate.

Turning away from him and looking out the window, I let my brow pull into a frown as I bit on my bottom lip.

Since I'd met Logan, we'd been nothing but nasty to each other. I remember the first time our parents introduced us, and I came bouncing into his living room ecstatic because his house had five bedrooms, and that meant I didn't have to share. He was stood there, lanky and broody, and stuck his foot our when I passed him, meaning I fell face first onto the wooden floors.

As you can all tell, we never really made up after that.

The thing is, I always thought that our arguments were more on the banter spectrum then full on hate. Don't get me wrong, Logan pissed me off, a lot, but I never hated him. I don't think. And I never thought he hated me, until now.

"Fucking hell, I was only messing with you, no need to get like that" he muttered, and I could feel his eyes drill holes into the back of my head. Pulling my legs up to my chest, I kept my eyes trained to the roads outside my window.

We argued all the time, but recently he'd taken it too far. I could deal with being told I ruined his life, and that I was annoying, and hell, I could even deal with being told I smell, but the last few months he'd changed- his insults were hitting too close to home.

He'd started calling me fat at first, never directly but always dropping little snide comments about my weight here and there, and then calling me ugly. And now he was implying I wasn't pretty enough for my own best friend to like me.

"Jesus Beth, I was kidding. No need to sulk" he tried again, his voice slightly tighter, more agitated then before. When he realised I wasn't replying, I felt the car speed slightly, and my eyes wandered to the steering wheel. His grip had become tigther, his knuckles turning white and his body was becoming more tense. Good. I hope he feels just as bad as I do.

"Fucking hell Beth, say something will you?" He muttered again, his blue eyes trained on my face.

Looking up, my eyes met with his.

"Whatever."