In the event of a long weekend, a lot of families are off on road trips to see some old monument, visit some family out of obligation and the sudden urge to be reconnected or to get a whiff of adventure from the comfort of a vehicle. I too did go on a road trip, it was to WalMart but it was a road trip nonetheless (I bought a loofah). In all honesty, I love road trips. My first road trip was when I was five. My parents drove all the way to Ottawa for 4 hours straight. There is something about curling up in the back of the car wearing my PJs, and watching the sunrise at 6 in the morning that makes me happy. The constant moving of the car is almost a soothing experience that helps me sleep just a little better. Anyway, with all this talk about road trips, I thought I might write a little fictional tale about love on a road trip, cause you know me.
***A fictional Tale
“I’m in love with the shape of you, push and pull like a magnitude…” as Ed Sheeran fills my ears, I dose off at the back of my parent’s SUV. I lean against the window of the car, curled up like an armadillo, slowly sinking deeper in the soothing lull of the moving car. What seemed to be 3 hours later, the first golden rays of sunlight spill in through the window, awakening me with a kiss of warmth on my cheek. I rub my eyes and find myself feeling like I woke up after a hundred years. I take my earbuds out of my ear and look around for a second only to find that I’m not alone in the back seat of the car but I sense myself in the presence of a dark stranger staring out at the window. I do a double take, swivel around, panicking. Did I sleep walk into another car? Did my parents abandon me and I got abducted? As these irrational thoughts flooded my logical perception my mom’s auburn hair peeked out from the seat in front of me, smiling, as she introduced me to the dark stranger, “Scarlet, this is Amardo, he missed his bus stop a few hours back, and he’s going to Brook Village like us so we thought we would give him a ride.” Finally, at the mention of his name, Amardo tears away from the window to look at me smiling and says “hey.”
I take one good look at him. He had curly black hair, black-rimmed rectangular glasses, deep brown eyes, and skin like roasted Arabian coffee. He is wearing a red hoodie and blue jeans. Simple, yet there is just something about him that irks me to continue looking at him. Wait, hold, up, how do I look? That’s when I remember as I cautiously pat my head to find strays or might I say clumps of hair escaping my bun like Exodus, and don’t even get me started on my puffy eyes, the very little drool on the side of my mouth, my gray sweats, and an “I love puppies” sweatshirt. I look like a hot mess, hot but a mess nonetheless. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die when Amardo starts to talk, “So what grade are you in, you look a bit younger than me?” A ton of bricks takes into shape in my brain wanting to throw it at him. Me, young, I look mature! Don’t I? But no, chill Scarlet, I guess I look a bit younger with what I’m wearing. I open my mouth to answer him, but although my mouth is open, words are forming, I must have been on mute because no fuckin sound was coming out. Amardo raised his eyebrows and asked me if I was okay. Finally, I croaked out “yeah,” and slumped back into my seat. Luckily my, mom saved my ass by chiding, “Oh, Scarlet is 17, just like you.” She goes on a little bit more about me and even tells me some things about Amardo like that he is an honors student, athletic, and plays the French Horn. When your mom knows more about a hot guy than you do, you know you want to stab yourself repeatedly in the eyes.
For the next half hour, I sat in the back seat staring out at the window (I have taken the liberty to wash my face and fix my hair in the last stop we made so I no longer look like a fuckin corpse) and telling my fuckin head to not turn my head to the left. My brain was all like, “Look Scarlet, you turn left, you see him, and if you see him once, you’re just gonna fuckin stare at him like a psycho so save everyone the embarrassment and don’t turn around!” Every few minutes as Amardo shifts in his seat, I get a lingering smell of masculinity and sensitivity (yeah there is no way to explain it). He does not smell bad, and he didn’t wear Axe, but it was a natural smell that wanted to pull my body closer to him. As I saw his hand rest on the seat between us, all silent and mysterious, I wanted ever so badly to hold it, intertwine my hands in his and watch the sun peek out from between the trees. Just for imagination sake, and idealism, I decided to place my hand like his, but a few inches away as I imagined a fantasy that was to forever remain a thought conjured up in my brain. Once we have driven for a while, my parents stopped at a small mall in the middle of nowhere to restock on provisions, and buy a few more things now that Amardo was here. They got out of the car and told me and him to stay put while they shop. As they left, the car got eerily quiet, almost as if there was a tension between me and Amardo that was not addressed until now.
Suddenly, a hand brushes up against me lightly. I look to my left to see Amardo staring back at me with yearning eyes. I jolted as my phone rang. It was my mom (don’t worry, it’s not a homicide tale). She said that there is a lot of people at the mall for a sale so she might be in the shop for an hour or so. Once I hung up, Amardo unbuckled his seatbelt and shifted to the seat beside mine. Now he was holding both my hands and gazed at me. He said, “I have been looking at you for the last few hours, and I have to say, it could be fate, destiny, a calling if you will, but there is nothing more than the look of you to turn me on.” Speechless as I was, I found it appropriate here to lean in and kiss him. We kissed softly at first, and then as the seconds went by, the kisses became more urgent and dare I say, forbidden. I unbuckled my seat and wrapped my arms around him. He began kissing me on the neck and pulling me closer to him until there was no longer any space between us. Before I knew it I was on top of him….oh you thought I would go on, ha a girl doesn’t kiss and tell.
A half hour goes by, and we finally recover from that eventful awakening. I use a tissue to wipe the foggy windows and used my sweater to wipe off the sweat from off our faces. Amardo retreated back to his seat, and things were left untouched like nothing ever happened. Before long, my parents came back, stocked up and ready to go.
I never saw Amardo after that day, and frankly, I wasn’t upset, because things are always impermanent on a road trip, but the memories will always be there in my brain, singing a tune of sounds and no words.