"When traveling with someone, take large doses of patience and tolerance with your morning coffee."
•••
I woke up to the sound of clattering and sleepy chatter. I tried to move, but my face seemed to be sticking to the cold, hard pillow beneath my head. That was odd. And why was I slouched over? My back was killing me! And I wished the noise would stop. I just wanted five more minutes of uninterrupted rest. But then I smelled coffee.
That was all I needed.
I peeled my face off of my uncomfortable resting-place, only to find that it was the countertop where I had accidentally fallen asleep last night. Something suspiciously slimy and wet ran down the side of my cheek and I hastily snatched a paper napkin off of the napkin-holder next to me, swiping the side of my cheek and the countertop. After doing this and crumpling up the disposable napkin, I shot a quick glance around.
Did anyone see that?
After assuring myself that no one saw my drool-mop-up job, I checked to see if Della was anywhere around. Her seat beside me was empty, and she was nowhere in the main dining area. I assumed she went to the restroom or out to the car. How long had I been asleep?
"Morning, kiddo!" a plump, rosy-cheeked waitress called out to me. I suddenly felt self-conscious of the fact that I had been sleeping in public and drooled on their counter without their permission.
"Um... Hi."
"Sleep well?" her eyes twinkled with what seemed like amusement.
"Okay, I guess," I replied, stretching a little, "Listen, I'm so sorry about that. We—I mean—I don't normally... Well, it was an acciden—"
She threw her head back and laughed. "Sweetie, don't apologize! We all thought that the both of you kids looked so cute together, we couldn't find it in us to wake you up."
I choked. "Uh... Us—both cute? T-together? Oh, n-no!"
"Oh, both of you are just precious! Cutest couple I've seen in months. How long have you two been together?"
"C-couple??" I spluttered like an idiot.
At that moment, like a whirlwind made up of glitter and sass, Della Rae paraded into the main dining hall by way of the ladies' room. Her oversized hoodie and knee-high Converse were finally gone, replaced with a striped teeshirt, denim vest, and floral-print pants. Her lavender hair was now pulled over to the side of her face, bound in a messy braid, and a new pair of sunshades sat atop of her head.
"Jason, you're awake!" she cried, ignoring the stares from the few early customers that had begun to trickle in. "I'm so glad. I was worried that our breakfast would be out before you were up. I took on the solemn responsibility of ordering for you."
I stared, dazed by the bright colors in her outfit. It was a lot to take in first thing in the morning. First, the embarrassment of sleeping where I did, then the waitress' obvious confusion about my nonexistent love life, and now another strangely mismatched outfit from my driving partner...
"Aw, you look so gorgeous, your fella can't even speak!" the waitress giggled, noticing my dazed look. "I was just asking him how long you two have been together."
My eyes shot open in horror. "W-we aren't—"
"—Oh, Jason and I have been together for a little while now."
I spun around so quickly, I almost gave myself whiplash.
"DELLA!"
"Really?" the waitress continued, ignoring my violent reaction.
"Yeah, we just met yesterday, and now here we are! We're going on a roadtrip together."
The waitress sighed happily. "How precious... I guess when you've met the right one, it feels like it's only been a day."
"You have no idea," Della snickered, covertly winking at me, "He'd probably be in a ditch somewhere if it wasn't for me."
I couldn't even speak. I just stewed there indignantly in my mortified silence as the two ladies chatted about 'true love' and all of that sappy junk. It was rather degrading. I couldn't imagine what Grant would be saying if he could see me now, and my face grew warm at the thought. But it seemed pointless to resist. Della was an unstoppable force. One second she showered you in happy thoughts and pixie dust, and the next she was embarrassing you in public to get a smile out of the passers-by. And I was stuck with her.
For breakfast, we had grilled cheese...again. Not that I was complaining, but it's a little odd eating grilled cheese at 6AM while your neighbor is having French toast and syrup. Though, I guess if you're like Della, you get used to strange looks. She really didn't seem to care who stared at her or who whispered behind her back. She merely went about her business, munching her grilled cheese like nothing else in life mattered.
After she said her extensive goodbyes to all the waitresses and sent her brightest of compliments to the chef (whose name was apparently Stan), I managed to drag Della out the front door and into the parking lot. The sun was coming up over the edge of the ancient-looking rooftop of the diner, spilling over onto the minty Volkswagen Beetle. It was still parked under the crappy sign, and to be honest, it actually fit in with the whole establishment—weird, quirky, and too bright to look at directly. I approached the Driver's side and tried to open the door. When it didn't open, I tugged at the handle again to clue Della in on my hang-up. When she proceeded to ignore my hint, I finally did what Mom always told me to do; I used my words.
"Will you unlock it and give me the keys? I'll drive first today," I offered generously.
But Della didn't even acknowledge me. She was standing on the other side of the car, staring up at the Darlin' Daisy's sign.
"Della? Did you hear me?"
She didn't reply. Instead she stayed rooted to her spot and fumbled around in her polka-dot tote. And what was she squeaking so excitedly about?
"Della, are we going to hit the road, or not?" I ran my fingers through my hair, stifling a random yawn that crept up on me.
"I just need my camera!" she called, digging faster. "This is too perfect to pass up."
"What are you talking about?" My shoulders fell in exhaustion, "We need to head out. If you would just give me the keys—"
"Here it is!" she gasped, pulling out a bubblegum-pink camera and waving it in the air. "I can't believe that I almost forgot..."
She positioned herself under the sign, holding the camera out at a funny angle, aimed towards her glowing face. There was a soft click! and the device instantly spit out a Polaroid.
"What are you doing?" I groaned. It was too early in the morning for these shenanigans.
"A snapshot for my scrapbook!"
"Well, okay... But you have one, so can we go now? And FYI, the car's still locked. Just in case you hadn't noticed." I tugged at the door handle once more to make my point.
"Jason," she raised an eyebrow at me, "Special memories can be kept fresh if you save pieces of it through photos and keepsakes. It's like Ziploc for the brain! And I want to save as many special moments as I possibly can. Speaking of which, c'mere. I need one of you too."
"What?"
"I need a picture of you too!"
Aw, heck no! Get that camera out of my face, woman.
I instantly threw my hands up in front of me. "Oh, n-no! Don't bother. I'm good." I couldn't stifle the warmth that sprung to my cheeks at the thought, but I tried to play it cool.
"No, really, I want one of both of us! Come on..." She dragged me by the arm.
"Della, seriously, we aren't going to have time to—"
"It's just a quick photo, Jason. It'll only take two seconds."
"Della!"
"Jason!" she mimicked.
My stomach clenched tightly. I hated having my picture taken with the passion of a thousand brooding breakup songs. Picture-day at school was enough to scar me for life in that regard, and I would do just about anything to avoid anything like that experience again.
After a moment, I managed to wriggle out of her grip. "Della. Just stop, okay?"
She paused, blinking her glittery eyes. A soft shadow seemed to dampen her smile and she quickly shook her head, as if to shrug it off. "Oh, okay then. Never mind, I'm sorry."
I felt like someone punched me in the gut. What was the deal all of the sudden? Why did I care? I hadn't the slightest idea. All I knew was the first time she stopped smiling was because of me. And if that isn't enough to make a guy feel like a dirtbag, I don't know what is. In that same moment, I pondered on how annoying feelings are—how they make people do things they don't want to do...
...like me snatching the camera from Della's hands.
"Gimme that," I sighed, holding it up at a new angle and pulling her close beside me.
"W-what are you doing?" she chuckled, nervously eyeing the device as I gripped it.
As if I'd drop it. Hmph...
"What does it look like?" I rolled my eyes before I pressed a tight smile on my face, "Say 'grilled cheese', Della."
Her face suddenly brightened again in understanding and I hastily snapped a picture. As soon as it spit the photo out, I released her from my awkward side-hug-thing and gave her the device.
"Thanks, Jason," she grinned.
I ran my fingers through my hair. "You were holding it wrong,"
"Huh?"
"The camera. The picture...would've been crooked," I muttered. I ran my fingers through my hair again, rubbing the back of my neck.
Della wrinkled her freckled nose and shook her head. "You're something else, Jason."
My eyebrows arched. "Excuse me? I'm something else?"
"Yep!" she popped the P, tossing her wavy locks in my face as she twirled around to open the car. "And I'll drive for a bit. I don't mind."
My ears perked up.
"I said I would drive," I insisted, dashing over to cut her off.
She halted and dangled the keys in front of my face, a small smirk curling at the edges of her lips. "My keys, my call, Lovett..."
I had to think quickly. "But you drove all day yesterday. And then we stayed up late. It's not good for the body to have an irregular sleeping schedule. You really ought to rest up and—"
Her bubbly giggles interrupted my train of thought. "Oh, puh-lease! You're not concerned about my health, Jason."
My lips folded into a tight line. "I just meant that—"
"You're just worried about making more stops today and you think that being at the wheel will change things."
My eyes grew to twice their normal size. Della didn't even give me a second look and she unlocked the driver's door, sliding smoothly into her seat.
How does she freaking do that?
"You coming or not, Lovett?"
I shot her my most intimidating glare, which she rudely ignored, and I tromped over to the other side of the Bug, slamming the door behind me.
"Now, first stop—post cards and stamps!" Della chatted, cheerily oblivious to my attitude towards the whole thing, "And then we'll head for good ole' Tennessee! We'll be driving right through Nashville. Isn't that exciting?"
Tennessee... The name made me shiver; whether with a thrill of excitement or one of displeasure, I couldn't have told you. It'd been a long time since I was last there.
"Yeah. Can't wait."
•••••••••••••••
Hey, lovely people! Thanks for reading the 5th chapter of Polaroids + Postcards! I'm so sorry that I didn't update last week. Life got a little crazy & demanded my full attention. But all's well now.
~Who ships Jason + Della?
~Can you create a ship-name for them?
~What was your favorite scene in this chapter?
{Be sure to comment, vote, follow, and share! See you next week, guys.}