iMeet Cute | ✓

↺ 018 : road trips & warning labels

"So how long is this gonna take?"

"Should be roughly four hours, but I'm not in a rush," he answered. "But I'm definitely getting you home before nightfall."

That left a lot of time in between, seeing as it was barely ten in the morning.

"Is there any way I could connect this"-I gestured to the overall soundbox area-"to my Spotify?" I had a cash money playlist on the ready. It'd been lying in wait for months, waiting on the day its destiny would call it forth. A.k.a. the day I went on a road trip without my parents. I might be an adult, according to technicalities, but I would still have to face the wrath of their disapproving glares at whatever obscene words were contained in those songs. I could do without those glares. They were Keegan's thing.

"I would rather you didn't," he said, but I wasn't listening. Or maybe I was. Maybe I just didn't care what he wanted. Maybe I didn't want to talk about anything. "At least for now. What happens if the playlist is done playing before we get there?"

"Trust me, it's a long playlist."

"We might be here for seven hou-"

"No. If you waste any time, I will shove you into the back and take those wheels. Also, I do not have a driver's license, so, be afraid." I was cranky, and as the seconds ticked, I got crankier. That meant I was hungry. I was hungry. I hadn't eaten since the previous afternoon.

"I'm just saying." We drove through those unbelievably large school gates. "I can't drive for four hours straight. I'm gonna need to top up on gas. We're probably gonna have to stop to eat, or something. We might be here for a while longer."

Okay, so, all that talk was valid, but I was really hungry, so, "Alright, fine. But at least turn on the radio." I needed something to distract me from my thoughts. I was going back home to spend time with my family, and if I were placing bets, I'd bet a hundred that August was already back home. Our run in at that department store was literal trash. That couldn't happen again. I didn't need to be nicer, but I at least could try to be civil.

The thoughts were up in my head, and they demanded attention. I was self absorbed, maybe. A little confused, irrational, and self contradictory. A paradox, but I didn't deserve the luxury of being called that. I liked Nash. I liked him a lot, but more than anything, it hurt to admit it. Admitting it would mean risking getting hurt, and I knew he was a good person-near saintly-but I did not trust things to not get bad. Circumstances pushed people to the brink, to the darkest parts of themselves. What if something bad happened and he switched up on me?

Based on recent events, I couldn't even say for certain if my thoughts were not as a result of hormones. I kissed him. He kissed me. We kissed. Period. And I felt what every normal human would, but it wasn't love, and it wasn't like, and I couldn't for the life of me understand why I felt so many different ways about a single person.

"I'm sorry," I said, breaking the static filled silence. My words carried so much weight. I had done so much wrong, so much damage, mostly to myself, and to a possible ... a possible relationship. "I think I have been using you, though I can't see how." He took his eyes off the road. "I think I might have hurt you at some point, and I'm sorry."

His lips twitched.

"I do like you. But I don't know if I ...." I stopped to take a breather. WALK THE MOON was right, talking was hard. "I don't know if I'm good for you. Especially with everything that's happened since we met. All I do is plague you with problems, and-"

"I was not expecting this," he said, eyes back where they should be. "You know, I can't seem to remember you ever plaguing me with problems."

"Right." I tugged on my seatbelt. "What about all the times at the pool?"