"The traveler was active; he went strenuously in search of people, of adventure, of experience. The tourist is passive; he expects interesting things to happen to him. He goes 'sight-seeing'." – Daniel J. Boorstin
•••
"But why can't we keep going?" I huffed, unable to completely suppress how irritated I was. "It's not that dark yet. This is a complete waste of perfectly good driving-time!"
"Someone needs a nap, methinks!" Della sang, her eyes glued to the road.
"Della, I'll even take a turn," I begged, "We don't have time to—"
"—Geeze, Jason, you don't think I was intending for us to drive nonstop for this whole trip, did you?"
I shifted in my seat. "Uh... Yeah?"
"Not in this car, we don't," she snorted in response, ignoring my disappointed groan. "In this Bug, we take breaks and plenty of them!"
"Really?" I gasped in mock surprise, "I hadn't noticed. Though stopping eight times between Ohio and Kentucky hardly counts as plenty, don't you think?"
"You're exaggerating, Jason."
"No, I'm not. I counted."
"You counted how many times I stopped to use the restroom?"
"But that's the thing; you couldn't just use the restroom! We had to stop to look at postcards, get drinks, have lunch, and plan how we would take over the world with nothing but a bag of Skittles."
"Mmm... Skittles," she sighed as she bypassed my complaints. "But we're still stopping, Jason. Look at the time. We need to eat something."
"Oh, so now you have to follow the clock to know when you're hungry?" I attempted once more to let her know that I didn't approve of the plan, but I only wasted my breath.
"Pfffttt... No, I follow my stomach. Aaaaannndddd a really cool foodie-app that gives me updates on all of the best diners and dives in the area! Like the one I'm taking you to right now..."
"Foodie-app?" I raised a skeptical eyebrow.
"What can I say? Food is life. The unhealthier, the better!"
I observed her closely. This was unexpected. "Really?"
"Yep," she popped the P, "Life's too short to not enjoy good food."
Without meaning to, I chuckled in amusement. That was totally unexpected.
Don't most girls normally have a weird relationship with food? I mean, during highschool and college, it seemed that the majority tried to pretend that they never ever actually ate anything. And if they weren't, they were on some kind of idiotic diet. When any of us guys were around, these girls would either consume the barest amount of "healthy" food they could, or skip eating in front of us altogether. And I never understood why. It was stupid and completely illogical. Of course they needed to eat! They were only human, after all. I couldn't comprehend why they thought we guys would think otherwise.
Fast-forward a few years, and here was crazy little Della Rae, informing me that she keeps an app on her phone designated only to finding restaurants with fatty foods and sickening sweets. It was unlike anything I had ever heard from a member of the female race. And the weird thing? I kind of admired her for it.
Yes, Jason Lovett, the self-proclaimed resident-jerkface, found something to admire about the purple-maned unicorn before the day was over.
Big deal... It's not like I like her or anything.
"Oooh, okay, here it is!" Della squealed, pulling into the next lane and then turning into the driveway.
I held back a gasp of shock. Bright neon signs flashed in my face, practically screaming at passers-by to stop for a crappy cup of coffee or a stale hamburger. The paint on the little building in front of us was chipped and peeling in some areas, while yellowing beams of light seeped through the windows. A handful of cars were sitting in the parking lot, but not many—and most of those were big, clunky vans that you'd normally take roadtrips in.
Della pulled us into a parking spot right underneath the biggest, flashiest sign that read, "Darlin' Daisy's Diner: Home of the State's Best Grilled Cheese."
A least they tried to keep it real with their sign claims.
I pursed my lips. The last thing we needed was to get food-poisoning from some moldy old diner she found on her phone. This place just didn't look promising. At all.
"Are you sure about this?"
"Jason, it's perfect! I mean, look at it. It's so quaint; it has a sort of unique, vintage charm."
"Yeah, and I'm pretty sure the food here is vintage too... This place looks like it hasn't changed anything since the 50's. C'mon, let's go somewhere else; I saw a drive-through a mile or two back."
"Listen, Lovett, if you are going to ride with me, you're going to have to learn to loosen up and go with the flow. Where's your sense of adventure?"
I grimaced. "Getting food-poisoning is not my definition of an adventure."
Instead of answering me, Della completely ignored my protests, grabbing her tote bag and sliding out of the car. My stomach suddenly growled.
My own body is betraying me! Why??
"Okay, fine!" I groaned as I clambered out of the Bug, "Just lock the car."
The locks clicked. And I trailed along behind my captor into the dingy diner, mentally preparing myself for an upset stomach.
•••
We both ordered the "House Special: Grilled Cheese" and a side of fries. And it was actually okay. I mean, I didn't die and I didn't hate the food... Okay, fine! Maybe it was because I was exhausted, but in all honesty, the grilled cheese tasted kind of like the ones my mom used to make when I was a kid—the ones that crunch when you take a bite and then suddenly melt in your mouth in a pool of gooey, cheesy goodness. In short, it was pretty freaking amazing. And the inside of the diner wasn't nearly as filthy as it looked on the outside. And the service was decent. All in all, not too bad a place. But of course, I couldn't say so. Besides, even if I did, I don't Della would have noticed.
As soon as she was done eating, out came a glittery-cased laptop. Its temporary home was made on the chrome colored counter-top, where Della and I sat on tall swiveling stools. She rambled for a while, but eventually her comments came fewer and further between.
I was munching on my third refill of French fries before I finally noticed how quiet it was. When I looked around, I noticed that it was just us left there at Darlin' Daisy's and that all the other customers had either driven away or had gone back outside to sleep in their cars. It was pitch black outside. I glanced at the clock on the wall and cringed at the hour. And that's the moment when I realized that Della had actually stopped talking! Instead of bugging me, she was quietly sitting in front of her computer screen, typing like a crazy person.
After finishing off the rest of my chocolate milkshake, I cleared my throat. "What'cha doing?"
"Just drafting a quick update! Haven't done one since last week, and my followers have all been asking about—"
"Followers?"
She tore her eyes away for a moment. "Yeah, my blog follower—Oh! I completely forgot to tell you about that. I run a travel blog."
Lightbulb...
"Oh, you're a blogger! Okay, that makes a little more sense."
"Yeah," she giggled, pulling up a page and turning the screen for me to see, "Here it is..."
"'Hey, Ma! Travel Blog'," I read the title page, "Huh. Interesting name..."
She smiled thoughtfully. "I write it all in letter form and attach pictures from everywhere I stop. It's kind of a weird inside joke between me and my mom."
I scanned through the rows of posts, detailing all of Della's most recent travels. Every single one of them began with the words, "Hey, Ma!" as an opening greeting. And I'm not gonna lie; I cracked a smile. A real, unadulterated smile.
"And she reads all of them?" I asked, glancing up from the dozens of photos from her most recent trip to New York. "Your mom, I mean."
Della nodded enthusiastically. "Yep. She loves it. It makes it seem like she's traveling right along with me."
"So you drive a lot, I take it?" I point to a selfie with Della and her minty Beetle.
"Generally, yes. I haven't been home in over a month!"
"Seriously?" I grimaced at the thought, "Don't you get sick of it?"
"Nope. Never."
I stared in awe. "I don't get it... I would get tired and miss my own bed."
She shrugged. "You eventually get used to it. I personally like it, though! Traveling everywhere, seeing new things, meeting new people..." Her line of vision slowly but surely seemed to be drifting further and further away. "It's amazing because you can never have the same experience twice. If you look at it like that, each moment is endlessly precious in its own special way. So in a sense, we could look at our present moments and potentially see infinity."
I blinked.
Things just got deep, Jason.
Della started a little, shaking herself out of her moment of reflection. Her hands gravitated back to her keyboard, flying along just as they had before. She didn't seem to be phased by her sudden change in thought pattern and depth of speech. The same couldn't be said for me. I stared, my jaw hanging open in total shock. This was the same girl who told me that her spirit animal was a Pegasus just a few hours before. And then she comes out and says something so philosophical that could've come out of a John Green novel.
The contrast between the two was downright scary.
The stuff you learn about people at odd hours of the night...
"Hey, do you kids want dessert?" a waitress asked, leaning against the counter.
Della's head shot up. "Not even up for debate—yes!"
The waitress smiled. She must've just started her shift, because she looked as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as they come at such an ungodly hour.
"What would you like?"
"The sweetest, most fattening thing you can find."
"Two sugar-comas coming up!" the waitress threw her head back and laughed heartily.
"And a coffee—black, please," I called as she bustled off to the kitchen.
After a few minutes, my coffee and Della's dessert arrived in front of us. The crazy confection on the plate looked both terrifying unhealthy and mouth-wateringly delicious at the same time. I couldn't identify what it originally was, but the something was now deep-fried, rolled in a sweet, sticky syrup, and dusted in powdered sugar. And it was still hot! I started drooling when the smell hit me.
"Oh. My. Word." Della's eyes looked like they were about to pop out of her head, "What the heck is this confectionery masterpiece?"
The waitress grinned. "Our specialty dessert... It's deep-fried Kentucky cheesecake. We freeze the cheesecake, deep-fry it, roll it in honey, and sprinkle the sugar on top."
Oh, dear, sweet Lord...
We simultaneously took up our forks.
"Jason," Della began, raising her fork in salute, "See you on the other side."
I nodded, swallowing my coffee. "See you on the other side, Della."
•••••••••••••••
Hey, lovely people! Thanks for reading chapter 4 of Polaroids + Postcards! I'm sorry this chapter was posted a little late in the day... Life's crazy! But don't worry; I'm still planning on keeping my Tuesday/Wednesday posting schedule. ;)
(I know a lot of you have been asking about backstories on both Jason & Della... I promise, answers shall come in time! You will eventually understand why Jason & Della are the way they are. They will both become easier to understand soon. It's a journey, like anything else.<3)
~Have any favorite one-liners in this chapter?
~Favorite scene?
~Any favorite traveling/wanderlust quotes to share?
{Feel free to comment, vote, share, & follow!! See you guys next week!}