༺ ¤○•° Sharay °•○¤ ༻
JB wasn't anything like I thought he would be.
It was warm outside, so before he loaded his luggage in the truck, JB stripped off his red hoodie revealing a rather form fitting long-sleeved T-shirt that showed his broad back and muscles that rippled, as he struggled to fit all his luggage in the car. Okay, it was loose around his torso, but those shoulders were so large they were straining the fabric. Down the back of the shirt were the words, "Are you ready." My short answer was NO.
As I watched him load his suitcases, I decided it wasn't an unpleasant sight, but convinced myself it was no comparison to my favorite anime character who topped my bias list: Makoto Tachibana from "Free," to be precise. Still, it made me wonder why he always hid behind super oversized clothing. 'Ha, like I was one to talk, since I did the very same thing,' I thought to myself, as I glanced down at the military jacket I wore.
JB was tall; tall enough that he had to move the passenger seat back so he could stretch out his legs. He also seemed to think something was very amusing. I assumed it was me and that ticked me off a bit. I hate being judged.
"The traffic in Miami is a bear," I informed him, "so don't speak to me while I try to find my way out of town."
I know I was being a little abrupt. Okay, maybe more than a little, but I was still ticked off at my mother for sending me on this errand, and he was in the line of fire so was getting the brunt of my attitude. I didn't really care, as I wasn't out to impress anyway. Not to mention, I was secretly scared to death of driving in Miami and, when I'm afraid, I tend to lash out at anything and everything as a way to pretend I'm doing fine.
As we started off, I heard JB say, "By the way, I'm Jaebeom. What was your name again? Shara? Or is it pronounced a different way?"
I must have snorted at his attempt to say my name. "Sharay," I corrected him. "Like 'car' but starting with the /sh/ sound and /ay/ like in the song 'Hey'. Nice try though. Everyone butchers it. We'll be working on pronunciation later, so just do our best for now." I lapsed back into silence, as we exited the parking garage.
I had already planned my protest. When my mom tasked me with this chauffeur duty I took all the GOT7 CDs out of the car and replaced them with Super Junior, Astro, Henry, Billy Joel, and Michael Jackson.
"There's a case in the back filled with CD's," I told him. "Alligator Alley has lousy radio reception, so if you want any tunes those will have to do unless you want to be anti-social and put in your headphones." I was in full on B-atch mode.
⊱ ♫ ────── ⋆JB⋆ ────── ♫ ⊰
The weather was warm, so I stripped off my hoodie and was glad to see that, in my haste to get ready, I had worn one of my favorite T-shirts that showed off my back and shoulder muscles. For a moment I mused that it was a pity that it wasn't form fitting across my torso, but given the heat, maybe it was just as well. Why did I care about that when this girl didn't seem exactly enamored with the task of driving me, or me in general for that matter?
Mostly because of the heat, but partly for show, I stopped midway through the loading process to push up my sleeves to bare my forearms. Even as I made a show of flexing my muscles, I thought it was a bit refreshing to have someone feel comfortable enough to treat me how they really felt rather than being on pins and needles trying to impress me at every turn. I wondered if I could change that, even if just a bit.
I took a while getting my suite cases in the trunk. Maybe I had over packed after all. Maybe I just wanted to see if I could get a rise out of Sharay by flexing my muscles. Maybe it was a little bit of both.
Getting into the car I found that, underneath the abrupt presentation, this girl was rather concerned about driving in the Miami traffic. I gave her the benefit of the doubt and decided that part of her attitude was due to that.
Looking through the CDs she had in the case behind her seat, I noticed no GOT7 albums but plenty of extra space. Funny that, as the case looked like it was accustomed to be filled to capacity. I wondered if there was a story behind that as I selected Michael Jackson's Thriller CD. At least we had MJ in common.
"What exactly is an Alligator Alley?" I managed to ask.
"Oh, the highway that runs from Miami to the west where we are going. It passes through the Everglades, which is a wetland and swamp filled with alligators. We don't want to break down there or run out of gas, as walking to the next rest stop can be a distance and is not exactly the wisest choice after dark. Given that it is near rush hour, we may not make it home before nightfall," she informed.
Again, I could tell there was a little strain in her voice. Was she joking about the alligators or was she serious? I wasn't sure if she was messing with me or really concerned about alligators. Maybe it was just the Miami traffic that had her rattled. I really didn't want to get up close and personal with an alligator.
After placing MJ in the CD player, we lapsed in to a strangely comfortable silence between us. After a bit, I really wanted to sing along but didn't want to distract her from the driving. She was right. This town was a zoo. Almost as bad as Seoul. I relaxed a bit and forgot about the alligators for a while.
༺ ¤○•° Sharay °•○¤ ༻
We finally made it out of Miami, but not before I had to back track a couple of times. I hate GPS systems, but looking at a map while maneuvering through the various overpasses, toll roads and such was not really an option, and JB wasn't really in a position to act as navigator.
Though I'm sure he noticed I became turned around a few times, he didn't make any snide remarks about my driving and remained quiet in the seat next to me. He also seemed amicable when I pulled into a Chick-Fil-A and suggested we take a break and stretch our legs before heading onto the Alley.
"You like iced coffee, right?" I asked, to which JB replied he did. "Then I'll order you a Frosted Coffee. It's coffee blended with soft-serve vanilla ice cream. It's my mom's favorite. Actually, she's beyond addicted to them."
"One large Frosted Coffee and one small Chocolate Shake, no cherry and no whipped cream on the shake, please," I said to the person behind the counter.
After ordering, we sat down to enjoy our drinks. Looking around, I noticed people staring at us. I guess it couldn't be helped. JB was a very striking individual. He hadn't put his hoodie back on after loading the car and his shoulder width and obvious muscles were just screaming "Look at ME!" Guess I had my answer to my earlier question about why he wore oversized close all the time.
When JB moved, his back muscles strained the fabric of his T-shirt and every girl and women in the place had their eyes trained on him with wary lust. The piercings and eye shadowing, combined with his physique, made him look like a bad boy, but as he tried his first Frosted Coffee, his grin spread into a wide smile. The pleasure showing on his face made him looked more like one of the little boys I watched over in my church childcare on Sundays. His eye smiles made his whole face light up and, along with his slight over-bite, his appearance magically changed from that chic and sexy leader of GOT7, to a boy any mom would love to have their daughter bring home.
Scanning the room, I saw every female noticed the change and appreciate both presentations. One guy sitting across from us was clearly agitated that his girlfriend was checking out JB. I guess his ego couldn't handle it, as he proceeded to make some comment in an overly loud voice about "Girly boys in makeup with jewelry," and something about "Damn foreigners."
Anger just welled up in me. I hate it when people judge others based on appearances. People do it with me all the time. Often I am accused of being shy or stand-offish. I am neither. I'm, well, cautious. I had experience with people who violated my trust in the past. I just didn't like opening up until I knew it was safe to do so, but having been in that position myself I was quick to rise to the defense of others who were being judged, whether I liked them or not. As I stood to confront this jerk, JB reached over and placed his hand on my arm and quietly said, "Don't. It's okay."
Settling back in my seat, "I'm sorry he's like that," poured out of my mouth. I was embarrassed that there were people in my country who were so judgmental and rude just because someone was from a different place.
"괜찮아," he responded and I was surprised that all those Korean dramas I overheard my mother watch actually resulted in my understanding him.
I settled back down in my seat and we finished our drinks in silence before heading off again.
⊱ ♫ ────── ⋆JB⋆ ────── ♫ ⊰
I was quite chuffed when Sharay went to my defense at the Chick-Fil-A. Maybe it was just her sense of justice, or something, but I was pleased she cared enough to try rising to my defense. Obviously, this wasn't the first time I had heard such comments. It was par for the course regardless of the country. It even happened in Korea, so I was able to brush it off without a thought.
I was expecting Alligator Alley would appear more dangerous. Nothing could be as bland and benign as the straight, flat road that ran ahead of us with no apparent end. The road was flanked by tall marshland grass on either side.
I could make out a fence between the road and the wetlands, and assumed this was to help separate those alligators from the motorists. I saw no alligators, but there were some road signs that suggested all was not as serene as it looked. I could only hope the fence would do the job if needed.
I glanced over periodically at Sharay, and saw that now we were out of Miami traffic, she had calmed down significantly and was relaxing into the music. I really wanted to sing along with Michael Jackson, but held back as I remembered her admonishment about not disturbing her while driving. I also had a sneaky suspicion that I would also get a pronunciation check if I sang anything the wrong way.
To pass the time and stop myself from sneaking a glance at her eyes, I closed my own, still remembering her comment about them from earlier. It made me smile, probably broader than I had intended, as from my left I heard, "Is something funny or do you have gas?"
"No, no gas or you wouldn't have asked," I quipped. "I was recalling your comment about my eyes earlier and, well, it made me smile."
Crickets.
Had I offended her? I shifted so I was facing towards her and in full stealth mode, using my 'are they closed or not eyes' to my advantaged, I occasionally snuck a peek to see what she was up to. After several minutes, her relaxed posture had returned. When Sharay asked, "Do you need me to turn the air on more?" I decided to pretend to sleep. I really wanted to see what, if anything, she would do if she thought I was asleep.
I was not disappointed. About 15 minutes later she started to sing along with MJ, in what started off as a sweet, untrained but in tune voice. When she noticed I was 'sleeping' through it, she picked up the volume and really started to enjoy herself.
With my chauffeur serenading me and the fatigue from the trip and time change catching up to me, I finally nodded off for real, only to wake up to some rather choice words coming from Sharay, as the car swerved violently to the right and in the direction of the swamp and alligators.
༺ ¤○•° Sharay °•○¤ ༻
"Crap-ola!...$%%&&$#!&@€@! Flat tire!" I yelled more to myself that to anyone else. I had been singing along with Super Junior and cruising down the road. JB was softly, okay, not so softly, snoring in the passenger seat, when the front right tire blew and caused the car to violently jerk to the right and towards the soft shoulder of the road.
I had only just given up and stopped worrying about whether JB was able to hear me singing. I had figured that I was just going to be myself. It would be too exhausting, after all, to be anything but myself over the six weeks he would be here. No time like the present to start. If he was going to be weirded out, better get it started now. Guess the swearing would really clinch things one way or another.
JB started from his sleep as the car came to a shuddering stop on the side of the road, swamp grass so close it brushed against his window, as it had been too wet for the road-side maintenance crews to mow.
"Are you okay?" he inquired calmly. He seemed more concerned about me than anything else. I guess I hadn't paid that much attention to him during all my time following GOT7, unlike my mom who would have a better idea of what was 'normal' for him, since he wasn't my bias so wasn't on my radar. I was pleasantly surprised by his approach to our predicament. Maybe he just didn't realize yet that we had a pretty big problem.
The flat was on the side closest to any potential alligators that might breach the fencing, it was dark, the spare tire was underneath all of his luggage in the trunk, and if that wasn't enough, my stupid cell showed no signal to speak of. So much for calling the "Road Warriors" or AAA. Not good. Not good at all. Hope this guy was more than just a pretty face!
Although JB struggled to get the words out, I understood his goal. "Can we flag down one of the other people driving past to see if they could call for roadside assistance when they get to a place where there is a signal?" he inquired. It sounded like a better plan than I had, so I got out of the car.
It took JB a bit more effort to exit the car. He reclined his seat completely so he could climb into the back and out the driver's side from the back. It was an awkward effort, as he was so tall and lanky, but it seemed infinitely safer than braving the water-logged swampy side or getting personal with the gearshift had he tried to exit from the driver seat.
Together we found the mag flashlight my mom always keeps in the car and tried using it to signal down a driver now that it was getting dusk. The first three or four vehicles passed without even slowing down or changing lanes. I then remembered to pop the hood as a signal of car trouble.
For ten minutes we had no luck, and I was getting a bit concerned as the evening light was waning.
"Maybe you should show a leg and attract attention that way," JB suggested with a wink. He had to all but scrunch up his whole face to make it look like a wink so you could even tell one eye was actually closed and not just a slit. He looked rather comical and it broke down the remaining barriers I had set up in an instant.
"Yeah right! I don't think so. Maybe you could try, pretty boy. Flash your leg of something!" I was full on laughing now.
Without so much as a moment's hesitation, JB stuck one leg out, hiked up his pant leg and gave it his best try. I swear the first few cars that passed by actually sped up at the sight of him. I was rolling with laughter as he increased his antics. I was quite sure what he was doing was counterproductive when, surprisingly, a trucker stopped almost immediately thereafter. JB threw me a 'see I got the looks' grin.
"Looks like you need a bit more help than I can give since you're so close to the edge of the road, and it is so soft and wet from the rains. You're lucky you stopped when you did. Give me a bit and I'll drive ahead and call for some help. Could take a few hours. Want me to call anyone and let them know where you are so they don't worry?"
After giving him my mom's number so he could set her mind at ease, "Fred the Trucker" took off, with a reminder to get back in the car and watch out for "dem gators", leaving me alone again with JB, stranded on the side of the road. Why did this have all the makings of a bad KDrama!?
Laughing at JB's efforts to flag someone down had helped relax me a bit, and I was glad of that, but I was still rattled by the Miami traffic, the blown tire, and now I was starving. Talk about sensory overload.
Instead of getting back into the front seats, we settled into the back, as it was easier for JB to get in and out from there, and we weren't sure how long it would take before assistance arrived.
⊱ ♫ ────── ⋆JB⋆ ────── ♫ ⊰
I can't believe I took the bait and actually stuck my leg out to try and get someone to pull over and help us, but it was well worth the effort. Not only did a trucker stop, but I got the best reaction from Sharay. She let out the loudest, deepest belly laugh. She threw her head back and guffawed, mouth opened wide. I could only think that she and Youngjae would get along really well.
At least this girl didn't seem worried about making an impression on me by being all shy and coy like others usually did. Strange thing though; this openness was even more appealing. She had a 'This is me, like it or lump it' attitude.
Watching the tail lights of "Fred the Trucker" disappear in the distance, it seemed like a good time to return to the car's interior and wait it out. As we got in, both our stomachs grumbled in sync.
"I have some emergency snacks we can share," I heard Sharay say as she began digging around in the pockets of her army jacket. She emerged with an assortment items. There were old Twizzlers, a Ziploc bag of cashew nuts, a packet of Skittles, and a bag of Teriyaki beef jerky. She also pulled out two bottles of water from a small zippered cooler. My first meal in the States!
It soon became clear that there wasn't near enough food for the two of us, as we got to the last piece of beef jerky. We were both eyeing it with intent, when Sharay suggested we play Rock, Paper, Scissors for it.
"가위 바위 보," I called and while I was playing, she lunged for the last piece. "Hey!" I yelled as I made a dash for it, tickling her in the hope that it would get her to drop the jerky. She didn't drop it, but instead got most of it in her mouth while squealing and squirming.
I couldn't resist the temptation. I leaned forward, pinning her against the door and the back seat, and looking her right in the eye moved in and snagged the bit of beef jerky sticking out of her mouth. As I did this, I could feel a ghost of her lips brushing mine.
I pulled back quickly, not in full triumph, because the glare she gave me stung a bit. I wasn't sure what made her angrier; taking the beef jerky or the breach of her personal space. Either way, I had some extra beef jerky and felt some guilty pleasure that maybe I had rattled her a bit as a man. I brushed off the fact that I was a bit shaken as well. We lapsed into silence again, but this time it was a bit strained.
After finishing all the snacks and waters, we settled in for what could be a long wait. I'd suggested rolling the windows down because it was hot, having turned off the engine and the AC. Sharay rolled her eyes at me and said, "Only if you want to be a meal to all the mosquitoes in the Everglades." But, she leaned over the driver seat in front of her, put the car in neutral, making sure the handbrake was on, before starting the engine just long enough that we could roll down the windows a bit for a cross breeze.
She'd been right. Within moments the mosquitoes were zooming in the windows and we were swatting at them. The decision to roll them up was made easier by a rumble of thunder and a crack of lightening. Without a moment's hesitation, Sharay all but jumped to the front and reversed the order to shut the windows, not a moment before the sky opened and a deluge of rain came down.
By this time we were really overheated. The temperature must have been well over 90F (25C) and now the humidity had lurched from 90%, which had been bad enough, to 100%. I was already feeling the heat, as it was way warmer than summers in Korea. Apparently, even Sharay was feeling the heat as she peeled off her Army jacket. I wasn't ready for that.
༺ ¤○•° Sharay °•○¤ ༻
I was hot! Usually I could handle the heat. After all, I wore my Army jacket year round and barely broke into a sweat. But this heat was different. It was super sticky and with the windows up and no AC on, the air was still. I figure that since it was getting pretty dark out that I could safely remove my jacket to cool off without feeling too expose.
I struggled to get out of my jacket, as it was sticking to me like glue from the sweat. Underneath I wore a sports bra and a simple tank top. Yeah, the tank top had a camo pattern as well, but I was told the green went well with my eyes. I placed my jacket on the back of the seat in front of me.
JB was trying to get comfortable in the overly small back seat. His legs were just plain too long. "Let me sit crisscross so you can stretch out," I offered, as I kicked off my tennis shoes and tucked my feet underneath me on the seat.
"Are you sure? That looks like it would be uncomfortable," JB noted, but he nonetheless kicked off his shoes and stretched his legs out in front of me.
"Naw. I can sleep just about any place and in any position. Once I'm out, I'm dead to the world," I responded, as I settled into the corner of the back seat against the window. "Get some sleep yourself. Aren't you exhausted from the time difference and travel? You seem to have passed out pretty quickly earlier and hardly got a chance to sleep. My mom plans on starting work with you tomorrow, so I suggest you rest when you can."
Without waiting for a response, and JB didn't offer one, I closed my eyes. In the silence behind closed eyes, the one thing I wanted to forget about unwittingly sprang to mind. I could still feel the sensation of JB's breath against my face and the heat of his mouth near mine, and could see that devilish twinkle in his eye as he snagged the beef jerky from my mouth.
Snap! I needed to focus on something else, and that something else was sleep. Fortunately, I had been way over stimulated and after the little bit of food combined with the heat, I was fading fast.