Exile

Storm

I don't know where I'm going, but "Breathe" by Télépopmusik is playing in my car, so I must be going somewhere nice.

We start on Clark Avenue and make our way north. If I want to just drive somewhere and enjoy myself, it's always somewhere north. The south side of the city reminds me too much of my grandparent's house, Midway Airport, and wide-open spaces. To me, a drive up north is a sumptuous feast for the eyes. Chic suburban houses, darkened shopping centers, forest preserves that hide a horse or two, and a dark purple sky.

I've nothing against the South side of the city. I'm just a born North Sider – this is my natural environment.

Alex sits in his seat, taking in the sights. Every now and again, he makes a suggestion as to where we should go, but for the most part, he keeps silent. I'm a little on edge. Even though he said he wanted to this, I wonder if he's just being nice to me. I still don't know what possessed me to ask him out like this. I thought I had this unspoken rule about keeping my distance from him. Now, we're in this car on the road to somewhere, and I am seriously questioning my sanity right now.

I thought the plan was to give him the invitation, get a yea or nay, and then head back home.

Yet he is here with me, enjoying the ride. Nothing makes sense anymore.

What does make sense is that the blur of city lights and city folks makes my heart soar.

…

"We do all that driving only to end up back here on the roof." The skyline shines brightly in the distance, but it does nothing to console me. "I am not looking forward to going to the pump tomorrow. The rental car company's going to love my bill."

"I'll help you out with gas," Alex offers graciously. "It's the least I can do."

"You don't have to do that."

"I know, but I will, and there's nothing you can do about it."

"Well, when you put it that way, I guess there's no point in protesting." He shoots me a look of horror. "What? When someone offers to help pay for gas, you don't say 'no'."

"I guess not, considering how expensive it is."

"It's even worse in Vancouver. It's over five dollars for the equivalent of a gallon. I considered trading my car for a bus pass for a while, but I like driving too much. It gives me a sense of freedom."

"You've told me that before." In the dark skies lingers the intent of a thick, dark gray plumpness. "I've tried to do that, you know. Just hop into my car and just drive around the city, going nowhere in particular. But I can't ever do it. I get as far as Pratt or something and then I turn around. I guess I'm not as adventurous as you are."

"It takes a special kind of person to just get lost somewhere – usually someone who does their best to ignore the current gas prices."

"Yeah, I'm sure that really helps!" Alex responds with a laugh.

I'm overcome with a small fit of giggles as I lean back against the wall. "What can I say? I'm in love with this city. This is my home, my sweet home, and I can't get enough of it. I want to take it all in before I say goodbye again. Vancouver is beautiful, but it's no Chicago."

"Chicago is one of a kind…" His voice trails, then picks up again, but softer, "…and so are you."

My senses become acute. I look over to see Alex gazing at me. The summer breeze feels more like an icy wind, which does nothing to relieve the heat rising wihin me.

"Alex…" I saw his name, but I'm not sure of what else to say.

He draws back, as though my voice restored his common sense. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…"