So, here's a new chapter for you guys! I apologize for the crappyness and the short length.. I'm just totally out of it today. Please forgive me. Anyways, enjoy! I'll try to make the next part better<3
After arriving in Utah and staying in a hotel very close the Rainbow Bridge National Monument, we got a good night's sleep and had a big breakfast that morning. Then we drove the rest of the way to the bridge. It was 7:00 a.m. by then, and our boat was scheduled to leave at 7:30. Far too early, in my opinion.
"Let's see..." Tom says, reading through a short bulletin that was handed to us, describing the tour. "The tour will be about six hours in total... An hour and a half of that will be walking to the bridge and exploring it. The walk is only one and a fourth miles. It also says to bring our own lunch, which we have done."
"Yeah, thanks to me," I tease, smiling. We had arrived at our hotel last night (completely exhausted, may I add) before Tom checked their website, and found out we needed food. So, at eight thirty p.m, I drove Tom's rental car to a nearby grocery store (while he napped) and bought some supplies to make PB&J's. Because of all the junk food we had bought earlier that day, we bought nothing worthy for a good lunch.
"Thank you for that, Cass," he says, sending a smile in my direction. Then we start to head to our boat. By the time we pay our fee and get everything sorted out, it will probably be close to seven thirty.
The tour was 125$ per person. I'm not really thrilled about the price, but Tom seems really excited about this. So while I hand over my precious money, board a wobbly boat with fifteen other people, and listen to at least a twenty minute introduction before we actually start to move, I keep a friendly smile on my face for Tom's sake.
"I grew up in a city," Tom explains to me as soon as the boat actually starts to move. "That's why I enjoy things like this so much. Hiking, camping, biking... You name it."
"That does make sense," I say. "I grew up in the country. A farm, actually. So cities are very interesting to me. And scary."
He chuckles. "I can see how they would seem scary. But wow. A farm. Did you have many animals?"
"Oh, yeah. Cows, chickens, cats, and one dog," I reply, smiling lightly. "We even had a creek running through our property."
"That's incredible," Tom remarks. "I almost wish I had grown up on a farm." He's silent for a moment. Then he smiles. A faint smile, like the way you smile when you're thinking of old memories, and how much you miss them. Or an old dream you had. An ambition that never fully formed. "You know, this whole acting thing... I didn't think I'd ever be big. I even had a little back up plan. A plan I still consider every now and then."
"And what would that be?" I ask softly.
"I could totally just throw my career away and be a cowboy."
I raise an eyebrow in his direction. He's kidding right. A cowboy? Does he realize how cliche and out-of-date that sounds? A cowboy is the dream job of a five year old boy, not a man.
He lets out a small laugh. "I know how ridiculous that sounds. But I absolutely love horses. And why not? People do it."
"Well.. Yeah, there are ranchers. Farmers. But the term 'cowboy' isn't used very often, I'm afraid, unless you're watching an old western film," I say, smiling lightly.
He grins lightly. "Then maybe being in an old western film is my best bet, huh?"
"I'd say so."
Since we are now done talking, and ready to just fall into a nice, comfortable silence, I take this time to finally look around. The boat wasn't extremely large, but it was big enough for all seventeen of us. Twenty, if you include the boat crew. No one else was in our personal space, or even close enough to be forced to listen to our conversation, so I'll say I'm happy with the boat size. A bench-like thing went all of the way around the boat on the inside, so it make a nice seat for everyone here while we waited a very long time. So I decide that sitting would be nice since we'll be here two hours there and two hours back. Tom seems to have the same idea at the same time, because we start to sit simultaneously. Then we stare at each-other awkwardly, as if waiting for one or the other to sit first. But neither of us do, so we move at the same time again until we're both seated. We both let out small, nervous chuckles, and awkward glances around to see if anyone noticed. No one seemed to.
I soon get over that, though, as I see a rather interesting rock we are passing.
I turn my body a little to my left to be able to see the passing scenery. The rocks around us were interesting. Unlike any rock I've seen, except for pictures. The rocks were all an orange color, for one, and they all seemed to make odd shapes.
As I stare at the sights slowly passing by, two things occur. I realize that my knee is casually brushing against Tom's thigh, since my body is turned at an awkward angle. And I start to think about our trip together. So far it's just been like those over dramatic shows on T.V that you just can't stand to watch where the beginning is boring, then something exciting happens, and it goes back to boring. There's a girl and a guy (though usually the girl is more interesting and spectacular than I am, maybe with an interesting back-story or something), and they are doing things together that normally wouldn't happen in real life. Because traveling America with a stranger certainly isn't normal.
Then, of course, you must have drama in an overly dramatic drama show. I mean, besides the dreary hours of driving, it's been somewhat eventful. Henry, for example. I think that situation could have been handled better, and less drama would have occurred.
And what usually happens at the end of these T.V shows? The guy gets the girl. Whatever was making their life dramatic is solved. Happily ever after. I look over at Tom for a moment, trying to think of what it'd be like if we ever dated. But I can't. I mean, how are you supposed to picture an average day with him if you don't even know what his average day is like? Now it consists of just driving and traveling, but after this? I don't know. This trip seems to be some sort of mask. It masks our dull lives, and, for Tom, his identity. It makes him seem like a normal citizen, and it makes me feel worthy enough to travel with someone like him. I'll probably never even learn his last name.
"Our habits are traitors, and make us lose the good we might win, by fearing to attempt."
I glance over at Tom, pursing my lips lightly.
"Let me guess," I start. "Shakespeare?"
"Yes," he confirms. "I enjoy randomly quoting him."
I smile lightly. "I like hearing you randomly quote him."
Tom then just stares at me for a moment, that crooked smile playing his lips, eyes shining bright. And for a moment, I feel as if it's just me and him. Alone in this world. As he looks at me, I note he looks younger for a moment. I mean, he is young, but younger. He almost looks like he's in his early twenties, going on fun adventures, discovering the world as a new adult, falling in love for the first time, and trying to absorb every beauty in the world though his large eyes as memories to keep forever.
"I have another one for you, then," he finally says.
I giggle lightly at his dazed expression. "Go for it."
He takes a deep breath, his eyes never leaving my face, as if trying to remember the exact words before he speaks. "Beauty is a summation of the parts where nothing is needed to be altered, added, or taken away. And that's you. You're beautiful."
I swallow, his eyes now staring into my soul. "That's... beautiful. But I have a feeling it's not Shakespeare."
"You're correct," he says, smiling gently. "It's Elio Carletti, an Italian painter. But the last part was my own words."
"The last part...?"
"And that's you," he repeats, nodding. "You're beautiful."
Instead of forming a reasonable sentence like 'thank you', or 'you're too sweet', I blush like a madman and look down, stuttering things like: "Ah... Haha... That's cute, that quote. You're a good quot-er."
Tom, in return, just sends me an assuring smile. But if you ask me, I think it's a pitying smile. Pitying me for not being able to be confident and talk to men correctly. Damn you, Thomas. I'm sorry I can't be confident like you want.
We look out over the water again. And, a few minutes later, I finally regain the confidence (pfft, what am I talking about, what confidence?) to thank him.
"Thank you."
Now, most people might have been slightly confused at this point, but Tom somehow understood. And I began to love him for that. Always understanding.
"You're welcome," he says in return, smiling at me. I smile back.
He must be so proud of me. Convinced that I'm slowly getting better at accepting compliments. Good look with that, Thomas.
~
So eventually we came to the walking part of the tour, which was just fabulous in the hot sun. But luckily, being able to see the nice scenery and being with Tom- who stayed positive throughout the entire hike- really helped.
And then we came to the actual bridge. The one that we spent about 300 dollars to see. The one we spent all day on a boat for and walked a mile just to see. The bridge that looked sort of fantastic in pictures I had seen.
But now I was staring right at it. And I didn't feel anything. I guess I expected to feel something. The feeling of amazement and wonder. The feeling when the tips of your fingers start to go numb, or your knees feel wobbly. Maybe even just a shortness of breath. A shiver down my spine. Something. But it was just a rock. It was huge, and in a bridge-like shape, but it just didn't amaze me. It didn't make this tiring day worthwhile. Though it probably should have.
"Isn't it beautiful?" Tom asks. And sure enough, he seems amazed and breathless by the view. He just stares at the rock with a smile on his sun-kissed face, his eyes looking just as blue and bright as ever, if not more.
"Yes," I lie, looking back to the bridge.
What's wrong with me? Why do I not share a love for this rock like Tom does, too? Perhaps rocks just aren't my thing, no matter how big and old.
And even though I'm sure it's 90-something degrees out, and my back has started to form sweat under my T-shirt, Tom gently wraps his arm around me, his large hand gripping my shoulder. I feel like we're some sort of couple whom have been dreaming about seeing this view forever, and now it's finally here, in front of us. Minus the excitement on my part. And the couple-thing. He moves a bit closer to me so our sides touch. But I don't take the time to question him, nor do I even seem to notice. I'm too busy staring at the monument, trying to find some spectacular beauty in it that I somehow must have missed.
But I can't.
We have quite some time at the bridge then, and Tom drags me on a small hike, where I find much smaller things that I think are lovelier than the large bridge. And after that, we head back to the boat.
I sat in the same place on the boat as I did earlier, but Tom continues to stand for a bit, staring at the water.
"You haven't said very much," he says after a moment.
I shrug. "I'm not much of a talker."
"Well I've certainly realized that by now," he says, smiling lightly. Tom would do terrible during a straight face contest. He's always smiling. But maybe all of that facial exercise explains his razor-sharp cheekbones. Tom doesn't say anything after that, though, because his attention is soon elsewhere. A fan, I assume, because a woman goes up to him and asks to have a picture with him, explaining that she wanted to wait until the tour was over. The woman looks older than Tom, maybe in her late thirties. And that makes me question his fanbase. So far, only girls. But girls of all ages. Everywhere we go, people stare at him like they know him. But only 60% of those people stop and talk to him. And each time I don't stay to listen.
"Sorry about that," Tom apologizes once he returns, this time sitting next to me.
"It's okay. It makes your fans very happy."
That makes him smile. "Well I try my best. Pleasing them all can prove to be quite hard."
I want to talk about his career some more. I want to know how many fans he has. What movies he's been in. Why I haven't seen any. But I don't. I don't question him any further.
"Can I take you out to dinner sometime?"
"I'm sorry..?" I ask.
"Dinner. You and I."
"We eat dinner together every night. Why wouldn't we tonight?"
Tom laughs lightly, sounding a little nervous. "No, I mean somewhere nice. Not in a crappy hotel room. Somewhere we can dine, wine, and talk. I'll pay."
"Oh. Yeah, okay. When?"
"Tomorrow? We should be in Colorado by then."
"Okay."
"Okay Great." He smiles lightly, and although it's a small, simple smile, to me it appears dazzling. Then again, when are his smiles not dazzling?
I smile back. "Okay," I say again.
He lets out a laugh. "You're a dork, Cass. But I like you."
Smiling wider this time, I decide to just repeat myself instead of stammering. "Okay."
He shakes his head, the smile still on his face. "Okay," he repeats.