Hey guys!
Yup, more crappy updating. What was it this time? A month? More? In my defence I was away from home for various reasons during the past month, but I'm sorry anyway as always.
Reviews:
lorienlegacies96- Thanks so much for reviewing and always leaving ideas, I seriously love to see what people come up with. As for the ideas: a) Good idea. Something like that may certainly help them work out their issues! b) Yeah, I'm trying to get them to have a little bit more time together lately because I just feel like they need time to learn how to get along, so more of that will be coming. c) First of all, great idea, I'd like to read something like that too! The problem is with truth or dare is that I kind of suck at playing the game in real life, so I feel like writing it wouldn't be a good fit. Anyway, thanks again and please keep the ideas coming!
. . .Five- Happy (very) belated birthday! Thanks for your super long reviews all the time, seriously makes my day. Marina's relationship with Adelina is something I'll expand on further, and we'll have to see where it goes. No, as you guessed the 'Riley not liking Stanley anymore' thing is not permanent. Stanley just kind of needs to realize some stuff first and then we'll be back on track, so don't worry. Thanks for taking the time to read and review :)
Guest- Hey, thanks for the suggestion and it's good to know that you guys would be interested in that. I've noticed too that I tend to focus more on the girls' friendship instead of guys'. I guess since I am a girl it's just easier to relate to and write, but I will certainly give the guys' friendship a try because I agree wholeheartedly with you on that one! It's also good to hear that Stanley and Riley are a good thing, because I was a bit worried about how people would think about that. Thanks for the feedback, and if you have any other tips please do not hesitate to let me know, because I love constructive criticism!
legacies123- Thanks for both reviews! I'm glad that you like Stanley and Riley, because I honestly wasn't too sure about it in the beginning since she's an OC and all, but if y'all like it then that's good. And you guessed it, the point of Riley not liking Stanley was so he could realize some stuff and change, so as you may have guessed things will start to happen at some point. A warning though; Stanley and Riley is going to be a slow burn, just to prepare you :) thanks for reading and reviewing!
To everyone else who read and/or left a review, THANKYOU! Seeing what you guys think honestly makes my freaking day!
Anyway, sorry for the late update (as always). This is one of the longest chapters yet, so yay if you like long chapters, sorry if you don't! Some Jix in this chapter so read on!
Maren
"That's all you're taking?"
Mom looks at my bag with raised eyebrows, scrutinizing it for it's small size. I give her a look and drop it on the floor, where it lands with a pretty substantial sounding clunk. It may be a small bag, but I packed everything tight since I wasn't excited about the idea of taking more than one piece of luggage. Riley's van is going to be full with everyone else's stuff anyway, the last thing she needs is more room taken up.
"The trip is only three days long." I remind her after she doesn't seem convinced about the amount of materials in the pack, despite the weight.
"Still." She says, crossing her arms. "That doesn't look like enough to survive on."
"Considering I'm going to be surviving in a hotel room, I think this is fine." I reply.
Mom watches me put on my boots with what could be a stern expression if I couldn't see to worry beneath it. She gets like this sometimes; overprotective, maybe a bit paranoid. It usually happens when I'm doing something more 'adult' than she would like. She was completely fine with us taking the bus because I guess she saw it as more of a field trip. Now that we're driving ourselves, I'm pretty sure her views are more on the side of a glory weekend than a school sponsored activity. Mom looks between me and my bag, most likely thinking of anything else she could question me on.
"Do you even have any food?" She asks at last.
"I already told you, food is included."
"I meant for the ride out." When I arch an eyebrow she raises hers. "It's an eight hour drive, Maren."
"There are lots of gas stations, Mom." I retort, using the same tone she did. Most kids wouldn't talk to their parent like that. But Mom is not a strict parent, and she is certainly not one to chastise me for making a joke, even if it was kind of to mock her.
She sighs. "I know." Pushing her hands into the pockets of her track pants, she takes an anxious glance out the window. I can see the stern ruse giving more into worry that must have been festering under the surface. "Riley's van is in good condition... right?"
"Well, it drives."
"Yes, she picked you up in it two days ago, I'm aware that it drives." She rolls her eyes. "You know what I mean. Her mother was picking you up in that thing when you were eight years old, are you sure it's even able to make the trip?" It's a valid concern, and one that I'm sure other parents like Adelina would be worried about if she wasn't the way she is now.
I shrug. "I guess there's only one way to find out."
"How comforting." Mom mutters. I grin at her sarcasm, and I'm sure the expression doesn't help to ease her emotions in the least.
A sudden knock on the door makes Mom jump. She grunts in annoyance when I laugh and put my hand on the doorknob slowly, arching a dramatic eyebrow.
"Whatever is behind this door-"
"Open the fucking door, Maren."
I smirk and pull the door open, revealing an assault of colours standing on the porch. My eyebrows shoot up at the un-zipped orange jacket over an army green hoodie, dark purple gloves visible at the end of the sleeves. Wool socks also stick out over the top of a pair of winter boots, standing out against blue jeans. All of this paired with a bright grin, makes me squint.
"Oh my God." I mutter. "Who let you leave the house like that?"
"You're the one who complained about the other jacket!" Riley accuses.
"If I knew this was the other option I wouldn't have said anything."
Riley looks at me for moment, mouth open in shocked offence. "Well maybe somebody should have agreed to come shopping with me."
"Well sorry, I didn't expect the results to be this devastating."
"It's not that bad!" She insists, looking down at herself. "I mean, it's... uh-" Her defence breaks into a laugh and she looks up, unable to hold the insulted ruse for long. "Devastating, Maren? Really?"
I chuckle too. "Get in." I say, stepping back to allow her entry into the house.
"I just came up to help with your stuff." She explains, noticing Mom when she gets in. "Hey, Kat."
"Hey." Mom greets back with a worry-laced smile. "You got a full load in that van of yours?" She asks, trying to discreetly get another glance out the window. I start putting on my jacket, the navy blue color less harmful to the eyes than Riley's vibrant assortment.
"Oh yeah, I think this is actually the smallest bag out of them all." She says, gesturing to mine. "Mar brought three." I snort because that's typical of Marina, to always think she needs more than she actually does. She probably packed for every situation imaginable, and then some. If we have to share a room, we'll probably have a fight over drawer space later.
"You sure it can handle the trip?" Mom asks, referring the van.
"Oh for sure." Riley says quickly, nodding. "I mean, the only problem she has is that the radio is broken." She smiles reassuringly for a moment before seeming to rethink it. "Well, and the back door is a bit janky. Plus I'm pretty sure the remote unlock is dying... but other than that she's in good shape." Mom looks even more unconvinced than before, but I'm not sure Riley picks up on things like that because she's still smiling.
Mom tells us to be careful and hugs both of us before we leave. Despite coming into the house to help me with my stuff, Riley doesn't take my bag, concluding that it's too heavy after having it in her hand for less than a second.
It's still a bit dark when I step outside, the sky taking longer to gain its light on winter mornings. We decided to leave early because Riley didn't want to drive in the dark. When she told me I'd have to wake up at five, I didn't bother reminding her that darkness in the night feels a lot better than darkness in the morning. She would probably have this scientific explanation about how waking up in the dark helps your body adjust better, or something else just as nerdy. I figured she probably needed to wake up at five anyway since there's a likely chance she saved her packing until two minutes before she had to leave.
I do have to admit though, there's something tranquil about it. Light snow falls around us in the still neighbourhood, the sounds of our boots crunching over ice the only noise to be heard aside from the running engine of the old vehicle on the street. And as I look around on my way to the van, everything covered in a drowsy glow and the cold air silent as it surrounds me, I can't help but believe that quiet mornings and winter were just made to go together, despite the feelings of my internal clock.
Riley pulls the hatchback door and my mouth drops open. "Holy shit. How long does everyone think we'll be gone for?" The bags are nearly piled to the ceiling, so much so that I can't even see whoever decided to sit in the last row of seats. I can see however, that one seat on the last row is folded down to allow for more room for bags.
"I know, it's terrible." Riley shakes her head. "Anyway, Just throw it in and hope it doesn't roll out before I have the trunk closed."
We get my bag in without it rolling out again on the first attempt, which Riley deems as a great accomplishment. I'm surprised when I get in the passenger seat that nobody claimed shotgun yet, but I guess it only makes sense that either Marina or I have it. Upon my arrival I see that Marina is busy in the last row of seats, sitting side-by-side with Joseph, so I guess the role falls on me. I'm not going to complain.
"Finally!" A voice says, and I glare at the windshield because the voice came from directly behind me. "I think getting everyone in car took longer than the actual drive will." Stanley complains.
"That's only because you were picked up first." Joseph points out, in the seat behind him and seemingly in a much better mood than his friend. "Come on, just think about how much fun you'll have."
"Whatever." Stanley grumbles. I guess he's either too tired or too sulky to think of a proper retort at the moment.
"Alright! Is everyone ready?" Riley's attitude is the complete opposite of Stanley's as she puts the car in gear, even though I know she's not a morning person either. She must have been up for a long time if she's already this cheerful.
Her comment gets an enthusiastic "Aye aye, Captain" from Joseph. It seems like the response is all Riley expected of the car, and she immediately gets us going down the street.
We make a stop at Tim Hortons before we get out of town. The order mostly consists of tea or hot chocolate, since it's too early in the morning to actually want to be awake, but Stanley gets a coffee. There's hardly any traffic this early in the morning, so we hit a number of empty intersections and when we actually do pass another vehicle I want to ask them why they're out so early and tell them to go back to bed. But then I remember we're out this early. Maybe they're all going on a ski trip too.
Riley seems much less confident when we actually get to the ramp for the highway. "Okay, Mavis. Let's see if you can still do it." She says to the vehicle, nodding sternly as though they're going into battle together.
"Wait, what do you mean? This van can drive on the highway right?" John speaks up from the back.
Riley looks surprised that anyone even acknowledged her encouragement of an inanimate object, but quickly attempts to assure him. "Yeah, of course. I mean, She still, like, runs and stuff so, uh... she shouldn't have any problems."
"What did I tell you, Man?" Stanley puts in, sounding drowsier than before. "The thing is falling apart."
"No, it's not." Joseph tries to stay positive, even though he can't have anymore knowledge on the health of the car than the rest of us. Stanley doesn't say anything else and John shoots me a look, silently asking if worrying is a valid reaction. I just shrug and turn back to the road, where the car is starting to accelerate up the ramp.
Accelerating the van seems to cause a louder noise than most vehicles, but I can still hear Riley muttering encouragement to the old machine over the sound. None of us talk. It's like we're all watching a tense movie scene, except we're in the movie, and the unhealthy noise from the van is not helping with the suspense. This is probably the heaviest load it's had to take maybe ever. I'm suddenly not sure it was a good idea to test this thing's weight capacity in the last years of its life. But then we get to the merging lane, and after a rough lane change takes us to the highway, I think we all let out a collective breath, with the exception of Joseph, who cheers.
"We're home free!" He whoops from the back as though nothing else could go wrong.
"Don't say that too quick." I hear Stanley mutter.
"Ugh." Joseph groans. It's the only time I've ever heard him sound close to annoyed, and I can only suspect it's because this is now his third optimistic remark to be flattened by Stanley's attitude. "Nobody cares about how tired you are. Now shut up and drink your coffee."
The comment is followed by surprised silence, all of us caught off guard by his sudden temper flare. Riley lets out a low whistle and someone clears their throat.
Finally, John speaks up. "Stanley." He says cautiously. "I think you broke Joseph."
I snort and the silence is broken as laughter sounds through the vehicle, even from Joseph himself. "Well Jesus." He starts to defend, quickly going from annoyed to amused in an instant. "Just because you're grumpy doesn't mean the rest of us have to be too."
"It's not my fault!" Stanley counters. "Waking up at five is just unnatural."
"Well be mad at Riley then. Leave the rest of us out of it." I say.
"Deal."
Riley's eyes widen as she realizes what's occurring. "I feel like there are better solutions to this." She raises her hand. "I vote that you take a nap."
There's a collective noise of various sounding agreements, and I don't know if it's because they want Stanley to go to sleep, or they want to go to sleep. In either situation, Stanley ends up unconscious, so I'm a fan of both.
I hear a lot of rustling that must be everyone shifting around to get in a comfortable position, the most prevailing noise being the sound of multiple winter jackets coming off at once and most likely being used for blankets. My jacket came off long ago, and it now lies somewhere in the mass of clutter in the back, probably never to be seen again. But I don't move into a position to sleep, making Riley glance over at me.
"I know you're tired." She says, not even bothering with trying to be subtle.
I shrug. "I'm not too bad." I admit. I won't tell her I've been stifling yawns this entire time. "I'll help you keep an eye out for moose." I add.
She just smiles, but doesn't say anything more, letting one hand fall from the wheel as we cruise along. She knows just as well as I do that while moose aren't exactly a frequent hazard on the road, they're common enough to warrant a couple people looking at once. It's not really the reason I'm staying awake though. In all honestly, I feel bad that she's the only one that won't get the benefit of a few extra hours of sleep. My staying up with her won't help her fatigue in the least, but it's always better to have someone to share the struggle with.
There's only the sound of the pavement under tires as we continue on. I cross my arms, slouching lower in the seat that feels like the most comfortable thing in the world right now. But then, resting my head on the side of the window feels pretty comfortable too, and so does the gentle lull of the moving vehicle. So in the silence of the van and the comfort of the warm seat, I let the yellow lines on the road mesmerize me, and before I know it, my eyes have drifted shut.
. . .
I wake up because of nothing in particular. The window is still cold on my temple, the dull noise of a moving car still resonates in my ears and the trees lining the sides of the roads still steadily blur together into shades of green and brown. I squint against the sun, feeling only half-awake despite the light I can see finally deciding to make an appearance over the horizon, but just barely. It's really the only thing that's changed since my eyes closed... how long ago? I lift my head to check the time, not doing a good job at ignoring the pain that shoots through my stiff neck.
"Ow." I complain weakly.
I hear Riley chuckle but my eyes are already closed again. "Yeah, I tried to wake you up a couple times because your head was in a weird position, but you know how you can be." She says, referring to the way my stubbornness extends all the way to my unconscious state when I'm sleeping. Apparently it's near impossible to wake me up unless my body agrees, and that must be the case now since my eyes opened because of seemingly nothing.
"How long?" I ask. The question isn't exactly clear, but she gets it.
"About an hour."
"Oh." I'm as surprised as my tired mind will let me be, concerned for a moment about how quickly light filled the sky. But then I remember that life doesn't stop when I start sleeping, and then everything makes sense again.
I sit up straight, turning in my seat and looking behind me despite the flash of pain through the side of my neck. Everyone is asleep in various positions. Marina is leaned against Joseph, her neck at a much healthier angle than mine as it rests on his shoulder with his arm around her. Since one seat had to be folded down in the last row to accommodate for the mountain of gear, his other arm is propped up on a duffle bag, his face looking squished against his fist. He'll probably have an imprint on his cheek when he wakes up. Directly behind me, Stanley looks in a similar position that I was in when I woke up; slouched in his seat with his head leaned on the window, neck at an uncomfortable angle. His probably cold coffee sits in cup holder in the door, forgotten.
Unlike everyone else, John isn't using his jacket as a blanket. Instead it's balled up on the folded down seat between him and Stanley, it's heated comfort apparently unneeded. His head is turned this way, but the side leans on the headrest, part of his cheek resting on his shoulder. His hair has been cut again since he first introduced the look a couple months ago, but it's still had enough time to grow a little longer, and I can see parts sticking up from the way his head is leaned on the headrest. I take in everything else quickly; slack face, parted lips. Completely peaceful. Somehow, it's easier to look at him when he's like this. Maybe it's because I know he won't notice, or because of how much simpler it is to deny anything I'm feeling when his personality isn't awake to prove me wrong. Or maybe the reason is much more basic, like how I don't have to force myself to look away from his eyes when they're closed.
"Yup, everyone's still asleep."
The quiet tone shouldn't have startled me, but I nearly jump at it before I turn back around. I had almost forgotten that while he couldn't see me looking, there was still someone else in the car that very much could. Luckily, I wasn't distracted for long.
"They should be. We're all still trying to recover from waking up at that ungodly hour." I reply, taking her cue and keeping my voice low. She smiles like she's proud of it and I roll my eyes. "How are you not tired?"
"I've had three coffees." She explains.
"But you don't even like coffee."
"I know. It was painful." She grimaces and I just shake my head, amused at image of her trying to choke down coffee after coffee.
She looks in one of her mirrors and only then do I notice that her hair is in a ponytail, unlike its usual bun. "Did you straighten your hair?"
Her eyebrows shoot up like she's surprised I noticed, but she shrugs. "Yeah, I had some extra time this morning." She says, adding, "Couldn't sleep."
"Oh that makes sense." I say sarcastically. "Because whenever I can't sleep, my first thought is always to break out the straightener."
"I was bored." She laughs, seeming to appreciate having someone to talk to, and I suddenly realize how boring the past hour must have been for her. She's been in a silent car for sixty minutes and hasn't even turned any music on. I'd be content in silence, but I know she's not the type of person who enjoys long amounts of solitude. I feel bad. I never meant to fall asleep.
"Why don't you have the radio on or something?" I nod to the device in front of us and presses her lips together.
"I think it died for good a couple days ago. I tried to turn it on a few times but it was just static, and you know..." she makes a hand gesture at it, I assume trying to communicate the thing's dead-ness, "Bleh."
I send her sceptical look and reach forward to try it anyway. I press the button and sure enough, all that comes out is quiet static. I frown in disappointment even though I knew what was most likely to happen. Riley seems happy for once that the radio didn't work, and looks like she's about to make a comment, until the static turns into crackling and the crackling turns into a song. I let her take her time shooing the smug look for her face until she looks exasperated instead.
"Oh course it works when you do it." She mutters. "Do you ever get tired of being perfect all the time?"
I sigh. "It's honestly a full time job."
She shakes her head but can't hold in a laugh, though it's quiet, still mindful of the sleeping teenagers in the back. She keeps looking ahead, but I notice her eyebrows furrow, smile disappearing as she squints a little.
"What's wrong?"
She seems confused. "Are there potholes on the highway?"
As soon as the words leave her mouth a rough jolt shakes the vehicle as she hits the hole straight-on. I grit my teeth as the vehicle makes an unhealthy thump, the radio cutting out from the force of it. Riley looks at me with wide eyes.
"Ow." Stanley's voice groans from behind me, the peaceful feeling in the vehicle disappearing as everyone is startled awake with various degrees of alarm. I glance back to see Stanley's hand on the side of his head, the side closest to the window. His head must have hit to glass when we went over the bump.
"What was that?" John has now woken up, looking much more alert than I was seconds after coming into consciousness.
I turn to our unconfident driver, now cringing as she drives along. I sigh. "Yes. There are potholes on the highway."
"Well sorry, this is only like my second time driving on the Trans-Canada." She defends, obviously not thinking her words through. Then her eyes widen. "Forget I said that."
"Your second time on the highway?" Stanley says accusingly. "Oh my God, we're doomed." I glance back with a glare at him, only to find John and Joseph doing the same thing. Stanley is oblivious as usual.
"No we're not." Riley soothes. I'm not sure how she's not irritated by the constant ridicule, but her seemingly nonexistent temper will probably always be a mystery to me. "Besides, the highway is just like driving in town. Just faster and with less traffic. Everything is going to be... uh..." She lets her reassurance fall when the car starts to feel weird. It's way more bumpy, but this time I know it's not from a pothole.
The car slows and she turns on her hazards, pulling off on the side of the road. The bumping gets worse as the vehicle loses its speed until it finally comes to a gentle stop on the gravel shoulder of the highway. To her credit, it's one of the smoothest stops she's ever made, despite the situation.
She turns off the vehicle. "Does anyone know how to change a tire?"
. . .
We all watch as Stanley singlehandedly hefts the spare tire from a compartment in the back of the van to the front right tire, where it drops to the side with nothing left to hold it up. He goes back for the car jack and whatever tool is used to get the bolts off the other tire, stepping over duffle bags and backpacks that had to be moved to uncover the panel on the floor that covered the tire. It was quite the job. Not like I had to do anything. Because of what I can only assume to be an assurance of masculinity, Stanley and Joseph jumped right into action, roping John into the effort by obligation. The three guys removed about half of the stuff from the back of the van, uncovering several cases of beer I wasn't aware were there. I was told afterwards that Stanley brought them.
Stanley kicks the very obviously flat tire, wrench in hand. "Yup. That's flat as shit."
"Uh huh." Riley says crossing her arms. She's quiet for a moment, something obviously bothering her since she would usually just fill the silence without another thought. "You know, I actually am okay to drive on the highway. Like, I went to driving school." She says finally.
Stanley looks up in shock. "You went to driving school? How is that even possible?"
I don't focus on the beginning argument. I'm honestly more focused on trying to keep the cold out of my mind. I try not to think about my breath fogging in front of me, or the cold breeze that blows by every now and then, or the snow under the soles of my boots.
"Stanley is good with cars." John says next to me, and I can't ignore him. "His Dad taught him to fix them."
"Is his Dad a mechanic?"
"No, a lawyer." He must see the confusion on my face because he chuckles. "He just knows a lot about stuff."
"Oh." I respond. It's not my most brilliant reply, nor is it an impressive conversation piece, but it's short and quick and probably one the only words I can make without my chattering teeth becoming audible.
I keep my eyes on the ground as Stanley gets to taking off the tire, the car apparently raised high enough to start the task. I wouldn't know, I've never changed a tire, although I'm sure I could do it if I had to. Or at least I'd out in a valiant effort. I honestly wish I had something to do to fend off the cold. Maybe I should have helped unload the bags, or maybe I could start loading them back in. But then Stanley wouldn't be able to get the compartment open again and that would be inconvenient-
Something warm slips over my shoulders, stopping my thoughts in their tracks. It takes me a moment to realize it's a coat. It's a blue one, but not electric blue or navy. Somewhere in the middle. I realize the jacket is gone from John's shoulders.
Someone else might thank someone for giving up their coat, or ask if they're sure they don't want it. But I've never really had a thing for politeness, and John has never really had a thing about caring about it.
"I'm fine." I say.
His lip pulls up in a knowing smile. "I know you are." He doesn't meet my eyes, not giving me a chance to defend against the gesture. Eventually I give up, grudgingly putting my arms through the sleeves.
"Thanks."
He smiles wider. "No problem." He waits a second, like the words have to sink in before he turns to me. "See? That's how normal people accept help. It wasn't so hard, was it?"
I shoot him a flat look, trying to ignore the way the the coat's sleeves end far below my fingertips. "It's not about refusing help. I'm able to deal with a little bit of cold."
"I don't think you should have to." He replies simply.
I raise an eyebrow at him. "What about you then? Shouldn't you not have to deal with the cold?"
"I'm not cold." He says, and I believe it. If the temperature of his hands at the rink that time was any indication, he would probably be fine just in a t-shirt. I huff and he laughs. "You're grumpy." He accuses.
"Well that's nothing new, is it?"
"Well... no." He admits, smiling. "But I think it's just such a shame to be in such a bad attitude when the situation is so nice."
My eyes automatically dart to him to see if he's joking. He just keeps wearing the same expression as before. "Is there something I'm missing here?" I ask, making a show of looking around at the noisy traffic, flat tire and snow beginning to fall; all evidence of a terrible circumstance.
"Nothing at all actually." He replies. "Think about it. We're stranded in the wilderness during the most peaceful season of the year."
"We're stranded on the side of the highway." I correct.
"Hardly. Look, the trees are right over there."
"The highway is right over here."
"I don't see how that detail is important." He shakes his head and I just raise my eyebrows tiredly. "Oh come on. At least you're with your friends. The situation could be a lot worse."
"It could be a lot better too."
As soon as the words leave my mouth, John dramatically throws up his hands. "You're hopeless!" He exclaims, turning to go stand by Joseph I assume. I'm feeling kind of neutral about wether he stays or goes, but I like the idea of him leaving so I don't have a chance to infect him with my bitterness... if that's even possible, which I suspect it is.
I keep watching the wrench moving for a few moments and become vaguely aware of the sound of scrunching snow behind me. I'm kind of becoming distant from the cold when something hard hits my back. I don't jump and the force wasn't enough to jerk me forward, but I've been hit with enough snowballs in my life to know what one feels like, even if it's a soft throw.
I slowly turn around, my eyes finding John a few metres from the pile of snow forced to the side of the road by the plow, which is covered with dirt and gravel and is probably mostly ice at this point. John stands nearly knee deep in fresh snow, casually dusting off his hands, white flakes falling from his gloves. He grins at me, looking completely innocent.
"What?" He asks.
I just turn around again, quickly resuming my cross-armed position and watching as Stanley pulls the flat off and lays it on the ground, where it falls to the side with nothing left to hold it up. I think he's explaining what he's doing to Riley, who nods, pretending to be intrigued.
Another snowball hits my back, harder this time. I can hear it break and fall to the ground. I don't look at him again. Besides, if I don't pay attention to him he'll eventually get bored and give-
"Maren, duck!"
Immediately I drop to the ground as a new snowball hits the window of the car. The crumbles of snow fall down next to Stanley, who looks up at the impact. It must have had some power behind it because the dull thump draws everyone else's attention attention, even Joseph and Marina who stop their conversation to inspect the cause for alarm. Standing up, I twist around to see a wide eyed John.
"I did not mean for that to be head level!" He insists, his hand stretched in front of him like he's trying to calm a wild animal.
But then his facade breaks into a laugh and I realize I'm almost cracking up too. In fact, I'm smiling. Not like a full stupid happy grin, but there's no denying the shocked amusement on my face, or the laughter bubbling inside me. The feeling is accompanied by a certain squeezing in my gut as I struggle to hold back a bigger grin.
"Oooh, is this a snowball fight? Because I'm so down for a snowball fight." Joseph exclaims, detaching himself from Marina to establish an even playing field. He looks at John and I in anticipation while Marina looks between the three of us cautiously.
John doesn't pay any mind to his friend, looking at me with what could be described as a smirk if I found him one bit annoying, but I don't. It's a questioning glance and I answer it by walking forward to the pile of snow pushed from the road due to the plow. The pieces are already formed into ice due to the water from the road splashing into it.
"Sure." I answer Joseph.
He whoops and John grins for a moment before watching me pick up a a chunk of frozen snow from the pile. I hold it in my hand and watch as his face transforms from amused to nervous. He points at it in my hand.
"No. Maren, that's ice." He warns.
"And?"
"It's ice!"
"I don't see why this detail is important." I tilt my head innocently as I repeat the words he said to me earlier.
He understands and his mouth drops open. "This is a completely different situation! You could kill me- Jesus!" He drops down in the snow and my weapon goes sailing over his head. He stands and looks in the direction it landed, then slowly back at me. "Holy shit, you actually did it."
"Snowball fight!" Joseph exclaims, just before he lobs his own snowball at me. However, I see him wind up way before he throws it so I have lots of time to move out of the way. It ends up hitting Riley behind me... right in the face.
Joseph starts apologizing profusely and Marina's hand shoots up to her mouth, attempting to muffle a surprised laugh into her fist. John turns his head to hide a grin. Stanley, hearing the commotion, looks up too and lets out a bark of laughter at Riley's spluttering. She wipes a hand over her face and begins to scoop the snow from the collar of her jacket, nodding like she's excepted it.
"You know, the probability of that happening was so indescribably low that I actually felt safe. Yet, here we are." She clears her throat, her casualness causing John to let out a laugh. Marina's shoulders shake with her suppressed reaction. Riley nods and walks forward. "I'm on Maren's team, by the way."
Quite a few things happen in the next few minutes. Joseph calls being on the girls' team, but is quickly rejected after trying to use Marina as a human shield. He ends up being hit with three snowballs at once before retreating behind John instead. Stanley threatens that bad things will happen if he gets hit with a snowball. Marina has surprisingly good aim. Riley mostly blocks the snowballs with her arms instead of dodging, which Joseph refers to as "some matrix shit". Joseph gets hit with every snowball we throw at him, John is about as good at lobbing snowballs as I am, and I start to work on having a streak where I don't get hit with any snowballs.
My streak is ruined almost as quickly as it started as I feel one hit my shoulder and look immediately in the direction it came from. I don't need to see John to know it was him. Joseph's aim is so bad it's almost a miracle if he manages to throw anything straight at all, let alone hit his target.
"Can't have you keeping up that streak." John explains, shrugging.
"Of course." I say, stepping backwards until I'm met with the pile of ice. John's eyes widen when he sees me reach a hand out to take one.
He starts walking in my direction, pointing a finger at me. "No, Maren." He warns. I slowly crack a frozen piece of snow from the pile and wave it at him, feeling my mouth pulling into a grin. He huffs disbelievingly, still making slow progress toward me. "That's how you want to be, huh?" He raises his eyebrows threateningly and starts coming faster.
I walk backwards to counter it but his steps are longer and he's suddenly right in front of me, grabbing for it. I hold it above my head and when he tries to grab it there I put it behind my back, still stepping backwards every time he steps forward. I can vaguely hear shouting and laughing going on behind me, evidence of the fight going on without us. But then, the level that I'm able to ignore all that is actually pretty alarming. Because while they focus on throwing around snow, my focus on absolutely anything is concerningly scattered. The only thing I'm really aware of is the new look in John's eyes as he follows my movements. I can only take it to be a mix of playfulness and something else. Whatever it is, it causes a weird nervous feeling to erupt inside me, the energy forcing an actual giggle from me when John makes another grab for my weapon, only to come up with nothing when I move it again.
He lets out a hiss of annoyance, his growing smile betraying the reaction completely. "You're a child." He accuses, most likely noting my pride at the immature game.
"Deal with it." I say. I prove his point by holding the ice ball up at head level, ready to pull it back when he goes for it.
He shakes his head. "Not this time."
His hand shoots out again and like before, I move it back. The difference is that he doesn't stop at that this time, and instead leans further to get it. The new tactic startles a laugh from me and I quickly take a step back. Or I would have taken a step back, if my heel didn't get hooked by something under the snow.
My heart jumps as I fall backwards, nothing but open air behind me. It only takes a second for my back to be cushioned by the snow, and I can't even begin to catch my breath before a shadow crossing my vision causes me to notice John, and then I realize two things.
One: John fell too. And two: John fell on top of me.
We could not be positioned so perfectly if we tried; a hand on either side of my head, one knee on the snow next to my left side, the other leg stretched out between mine. It's a miracle really that he managed to catch himself inches before my face while somehow managing not to crush me in the process. For moment I wonder what the chances were of neither of us getting hurt in the situation, until I remember one specific detail.
John's face is inches from mine.
My focus isn't scattered anymore. It's very nonexistent. I'm so close I'm pretty sure I could count the flecks of snow in his hair if my mind could seem to latch onto anything other than the distance between us, or lack thereof. I don't know what to think, or what to say or do. Should I move? Should I push him off?
I'm so confused I almost don't notice his widening eyes, his mouth opening to spew apologies. And then it hits me, and I want to laugh because it's so ridiculous that I haven't realized it before. With John, it's not just some weird, unexplained feeling. I'm caught up with him, or smitten or 'like like' or whatever other way I can call it. For some reason, in this particular position, I'm admitting it to myself, and I have no clue why. The realization surely doesn't do my scattered mind any favours, and I would need a favour to come to my senses right now. I would need a freaking miracle.
"The tire's changed, lovebirds!"
That gets my mind moving again, so suddenly that I'm pretty sure my heart stops for a moment. Apparently the same thing happens with John because he rolls off me so fast you would swear someone lit a fire under him. Only when I sit up do I look over and see Marina and Joseph kissing, Stanley letting out a wolf whistle to get their attention. I realize he was talking to them, not us. My heart starts beating normally again. Hard, but normal. I'm suddenly aware of how lucky I'm getting with this issue not being noticed, because I've slipped up more times than I can count.
Just as I've caught my breath, I notice not everyone was oblivious. Riley stands a little bit away, looking in the opposite direction of Marina and Joseph. I guess it makes sense that she wouldn't want to watch the affection between the two, the only problem is that she glanced this way instead. Our eyes lock and I'm worried, but if she's surprised she doesn't show it. Instead, she sends me a subtle thumbs-up with a look of approval. It quickly turns into a grin when I glare at her and she turns away, chuckling at what must be my red face.
"What are you laughing at?" I hear Marina ask.
"Uh, I just thought of a joke I read." She waves a dismissive hand at her. "You wouldn't appreciate it."
Even though she said the lie terribly, I'm grateful for the effort. At least I know she won't tell anyone.
John reaches a hand down to me since I still sitting in the snow, and I take it quickly, wanting to get up as fast as possible. He pulls me up and I step away from him with a quick 'thanks', but it doesn't seem to put an end to any starting conversation.
"Sorry." He says quietly as we start to join the others at the vehicle.
"Technically I tripped you." I point out.
"Right, so it's all your fault then. Glad that's cleared up." He grins as she hits his hands together, snowflakes falling from his gloves. He takes a couple steps in front of me and I realize his hoodie is covered in snow, the most being around his forearms from when he caught himself. It reminds me that I'm wearing his coat and I take it off, missing it's warmth in an instant.
"You can keep it for the rest of the ride if you want." He offers, noticing that I've taken it off. I open my mouth to decline but he stops me with a chuckle before I can say anything. "I know, I know. You'll be fine." He rolls his eyes and I feel the corner of my mouth lift up.
"Here." I look into his amused eyes as I hand it to him. "Thanks, by the way."
"Anytime." He doesn't even put it on, just holding it under his arm as I hear him say, "Looks better on you anyway."
I thankfully don't have to respond to that, because Stanley starts yelling at him to hurry so he can help with the bags. John runs over and soon they're packing all the stuff back inside the van agin in record time. Joseph doesn't help this time though, too excited to get in the car to worry about stuff like that. We don't help either, and instead start to take our previous seating arrangements. I'm just opening the door to the passenger seat when I feel a hand on my hair, brushing through my ponytail. I turn, raising an eyebrow at Marina as she looks like she's focusing on picking something out of it.
"Did a snowball hit you in the back of the head or something?" She asks in response to my questioning look. "Your hair is covered in snow."
"Oh." I reach up a hand to touch it, the cold dampness telling me that she's right. I try to conjure an excuse for a moment before deciding that lying is the best option. "Yeah, probably." I dismiss with a mutter, shaking off her hand and getting in the van.
Everyone piles in the car once again after our luggage is back on board, Stanley being the last to sit in with a dramatic sigh as he flops into his seat. It would simply be unhealthy to hold back my eye roll.
"Thanks for changing the tire, Stanley." Riley says as we get back onto the road.
"No problem." He replies, weirdly humble for a second. But then the next sentence comes out of his mouth and it's back to normal. "What would you have done without me?"
Riley's eyebrows furrow. "What do you mean?"
"I mean who would have changed the tire? You would have been stranded."
She looks surprised for a minute before she laughs. "Are you kidding me?" Even she can't stop herself from rolling her eyes. "Do you think I'm some damsel in distress or something? I've changed a freaking tire before."
"Well why did I have to do it then?"
"Did it ever occur to you that I just didn't want to?"
. . .
"I need to pee!"
A shout from Joseph reaches the front of the car. Riley and I send each other a glance.
"Thanks for sharing that." I reply.
"No, I need to pee! You need to pull into the next gas station."
"Well it's not going to be for another..." Riley looks at the clock on the dash. "Thirty minutes." Joseph groans.
"We passed one like ten minutes ago, why didn't you go in then?" John asks. I'm pretty sure Stanley is asleep again.
"It came on suddenly." Joseph replies meekly.
"Well you're going to have to wait."
. . .
"Are we close now?"
"No, Joseph."
"Well I wasn't asking you. I was asking the driver."
"Tell him we're not close, Riley."
"We actually are pretty close."
"Ha! In your face Maren! How much longer?"
"Like two minutes."
"I'm not sure I can wait that long."
"Are you serious?"
"Maren, my middle name is serious."
"Well do you need to stop on the side of the road?"
"No."
"Well stop complaining."
"Ugh, fine."
...
...
...
"How long now?"
"One and a half minutes, Joseph."
. . .
Riley collects ten dollars for gas money from all of us while Joseph runs into the gas station, throwing a ten dollar bill at the front of her car before he left. I don't really want to get out of the car. I still don't have my coat and it's warm in the car. But I also need a snack, and everyone else is getting out so I open the door anyway.
I rush into the gas station, the last one in. Marina and Stanley are standing by the ice cream freezer, although I know she won't be cold anyway. Honestly, it's weird how someone can be so unaffected by cold temperatures, but it never seems to bother her. Joseph must still be in the bathroom because he's nowhere to be found, and John is... well I don't exactly know.
I prioritize the chip aisle even though it's only around ten o'clock now. I couldn't care less about the unhealthiness of it at this point. I've been up for five hours and I had a small breakfast, chips will have to do. I pick a pack from the shelf just as John comes around the corner.
"Ew, barbecue?" He screws up his face. "I should have known." He shakes his head in disapproval while looking over the shelves.
"Well I bet you like something ridiculous, like Dill Pickle or something." I retort. He looks at me pointedly while lifting a bag of salt and vinegar chips.
"Dill pickle is disgusting." He scoffs.
"Agreed." I nod, looking for something to do because it feels weird just standing here in silence while staring down a bunch of chips. But that's strange too, because silence was always comfortable between us until... well, now. I don't like it. "What else are you getting?" I scramble for a conversation point, and I bet it even sounds unnatural. I'm not the type of person that cares if a conversation continues or not, but for some reason I feel the urge to fill the silence with something.
"I don't know, maybe a drink, maybe not. I'm feeling spontaneous." He grins when I roll my eyes, and it occurs to me that maybe it's just me feeling the awkwardness. John seems completely fine, if not in a better mood than usual. "Are you getting a drink?" He asks, probably since I've started idly walking in the direction of the drink coolers.
"I think?" I say, even unsure myself.
"Is that an answer or a question?" John chuckles.
"I don't know."
He nods at my response, looking at me curiously. "Alright, I think you're hungry. What'd you have for breakfast?"
"Um..." It takes me a moment to remember. "Cereal." I decide, not knowing for sure if it's the right answer.
"That explains it then. A bowl of cereal is not enough for you to last the day on, we need to get you more food. Like, asap."
He looks around while I continue in my direction, grabbing a Pepsi from the fridge when I come to it. When I turn back around, John is coming at me with a few food options in his hands. He wrinkles his nose at my drink.
"Really, Maren? Coke is way better than Pepsi." He says.
"Last time I checked, you're not the one drinking it so I can't see how this is any of your concern."
He holds up his hands, smiling despite my counter. "Alright, that's fair. Here, let me make it up to you." He takes a package from his pile, holding it up proudly. "I have beef jerky." He announces.
"Oh, beef jerky?" I pretend to be amazed. "How exotic."
"And yet, you don't sound impressed." John huffs, making me hold back a laugh. He looks down in his arms again. "Well, If you don't like that, I also have a chocolate bar, sour candy and a sandwich."
"What kind of sandwich is it?"
He raises an eyebrow. "Do you actually care, or are you just going to say no anyway?"
"What do you think?"
"You're impossible." He complains, grudgingly walking ahead and putting his items back in the appropriate spots. "I didn't realize you were so picky."
"I'm not picky, I'm just not hungry."
"Not stubborn either." He teases.
"Exactly." I agree sarcastically, and he laughs. We make our way to the checkout, steeping in line behind several people. They must all be paying for gas since I can't see any items on the counter.
"Well enjoy your disgusting chips then. I'll be over here," John gestures vaguely in some direction of the store, "getting some real food."
"You go do that." I wave him off and he laughs again before turning away. I don't know what he classifies as 'real food' but I'm going to take a guess and say that barbecue chips aren't in the category.
As he goes somewhere else in the store, Riley steps in line behind me, a bag of chips in her hand. I know that they're ketchup chips without having to look at the bag. She's a person of simple and repeated tastes. She glances in the direction John went and then back at me, nodding.
"Just so you know, I approve." She says.
"Right."
"Unless you don't want me to approve. I can very much not approve if that's what you want. Just let me know... whenever."
"Right."
She nods again, looking around in a way that's supposed to be casual, but she does it in a way that makes it look like we just exchanged top secret information or something. "Shoot." She nearly swears suddenly. "I was gonna get a coffee."
She trudges off to go get more of her despised drink and leaves me in the line. I would never say this out loud, but having her and Marina's support on whatever I choose almost makes the whole thing seem less confusing. Almost.
Joseph comes and gets in line behind me, apparently finished with his urgent reason to come in. He wrinkles his nose once he sees the chips in my hand. "Ew, barbecue?"
"Does everyone hate barbecue chips?"
"Yeah, pretty much." He says, then grins like he does so often. "But I think Stanley likes them."
"You're joking."
"I don't know... am I?" He says, arching an eyebrow to add to the dramatic statement. I eye him suspiciously until Stanley gets in line behind him, looking at both out findings for a moment before pointing at mine.
"Thank god somebody else likes barbecue chips too. I was starting to think I was going crazy." He chuckles and shakes his head while I see Joseph stifle a laugh.
There's silence for a moment until I sigh. "Fuck it, I'm getting beef jerky."
. . .
Thump
You know, it's kind of funny how peacefulness can come from such little things, like watching the road go by or the gentle lull of a moving vehicle.
Thump
It's also kind of funny how that peacefulness can be completely obliterated by something as simple as the annoying guy sitting behind me.
Thump
With every inch of my being, I try to ignore the almost indistinguishable jolt of my seat every few seconds. I really do.
Thump
But there are some things that I just can't ignore. I don't know if it's because of what's happening or the person that's doing it, but it turns out that this is one of those things.
Thump
I take a deep breath and hold it. Waiting... waiting...
Thump
"Stanley, if you don't stop kicking my seat I will find find a way to throw you out of this van."
A groan sounds from the outrageously immature boy behind me, and I try not to be irritated when Riley bites her lip to keep in a laugh at my outburst.
"I'm bored." Stanley complains.
"I'm having trouble seeing how that's my problem."
He groans again, tossing his head back in despair while aiming another kick at the seat. I glare ahead when I feel the dull jolt, trying to decide on an object I can throw at him to elicit the most harm.
"You're the one who agreed to the ride. Wait it out." John says patiently. "And why didn't you throw your coffee cup out when we got to the gas station?"
"Well because it still has- Wait, does it?" I hear him pick up his coffee cup and then sloshing liquid. "Ha! There's still some coffee left! Score!"
My eyebrows shoot up and I look back, horrified at the thought of drinking a black coffee that has been sitting in its' cup for five hours. Apparently everyone in the vehicle shares my thoughts, because we all stare at him with the same disbelieving expression as he swishes the drink around in his cup.
"Okay." Joseph speaks up. "You're not actually going to drink- Holy shit he actually drank it!" Everyone looks away immediately, the idea of drinking it somehow less disgusting when I can't see it for myself.
"What? It's good." Stanley defends. Joseph makes an obnoxious gagging sound. "Still bored though."
John groans. "Stop complaining. Just be quiet and drink your coffee. Like Riley." He waves to the front of the vehicle where Riley takes a sip of her coffee. Her face scrunches up immediately in distaste, the expression remaining even after she swallows it.
"Do I have to make that face too, or can I just drink it like a normal person?" Stanley asks.
"Whatever will get you to stop kicking my seat." I reply.
"What if I want to kick your seat?" He shoots back, completely like a sulky child. Riley takes another sip of her coffee while I take a breath.
"Stanley, I swear if you kick my seat one more time you won't have a foot left to kick with."
A small burst of coffee sprays from Riley's mouth as she snorts. She quickly spits the rest of her mouthful back into her cup, eyes wide as laughs greet her mishap. I try not to laugh because it is kind of my fault, but nobody else seems to care. She looks down to assess the newly formed stain on the front of her sweater, finally putting her coffee back in the cup holder and keeping one hand on the wheel. She shoves my shoulder when she sees the extent of the damage, coaxing a chuckle from me.
"Do you have to say crap like that when I have stuff in my mouth?" She chides. She shakes her head, trying to be mad but a laugh breaks through anyway. She points to a compartment in my door, not able to fight a grin, though I can see she's trying. "Now get me a freaking napkin."
I nod and try to stifle my amusement, but it's hard while everyone is still laughing behind me. By the time I get the napkin, the car has gotten relatively peaceful again. Riley snatches the napkin from me with a fake scowl, but I can't help but grin again when I look at the stain and remember what happened. I look out the window to try and hide it, but I end up chuckling anyway.
Riley looks at me, trying to keep her expression flat. "Stop laughing."
"You're laughing."
"Shut up!" She shakes her head and distracts herself by dabbing at her sweater with the napkin. When she looks up, everyone is quietly laughing again and she groans. "It's not that funny."
"I, for one, am thoroughly amused." Stanley says.
"Wait, so you're not bored anymore?" John asks sceptically. He looks excited and starts to say something, but Riley holds up a finger, cutting off whatever was about to come out.
"Just so you know, I will not be spitting anymore coffee on myself to keep you amused."
"Ah, damn." Joseph sighs in disappointment before falling silent for a moment as the humour from the accident dies off. He waits until Riley has the cup to her mouth again to say, "Hey Riley? What's the difference between a dirty bus stop and a lobster with breast implants?"
She glares ahead as the coffee in her mouth prevents her from answering. He doesn't wait very long to release the punchline.
"One is a crusty bus station and the other is a busty crustacean."
She manages to spit all of her coffee back in the cup this time. Well... most of it.
. . .
"Guys! I just figured it out!"
Joseph's shout of joy from the back of the car startles me out of of my unfocused stare out the window.
"Figured what out?" Marina asks.
"I figured out what's missing from this road trip." He replies. After a dramatic pause, he exclaims, "Music!"
Stanley looks up from his coffee cup. He's been pretty infatuated with it since he claims it's the only thing that relieves his boredom in the slightest. "It took you six hours to figure that out?"
Joseph just flaps a dismissive hand at the ridicule and looks to the front of the car, as though expecting music to play from the radio as a result of his desire alone.
"Sorry, Joe." Riley says regretfully. "The radio is dead again after hitting the pot hole."
"Well, we're going to have music one way or another." Joseph starts. "Did anyone bring any CDs?"
Everyone pauses and turns to look at him, even Stanley who's momentarily forgotten about his cold coffee. "Why, the hell would anyone bring CDs?"
"In case this happened!" Joseph defends.
There's silence for a moment. "I actually do have a few CDs." Riley admits.
"I'm not even surprised." Stanley says, talking into his cup. He doesn't add another complaint onto it though so that's a plus.
"They're in the glove box." Riley points to the compartment by my knees and I reach forward. As soon as I pull the handle the thing drops open heavily from the weight inside. No wonder either, the glove box is cramped with over a dozen CD cases which must be weighing down everything.
"A few CDs?" I repeat. Riley shrugs. "Which one do you want?"
"It doesn't matter." She replies.
I take out a few, most with titles like "80's Hits!" or "Best of the 70's". I blink at the terrible options, immediately regretting even touching the radio earlier, but now here I am, trying to decide which torture is the least harmful to the ear. I desperately take out a few more cases until there's only a couple left in the glove box, looking for something I might recognize. When I find nothing, I just stare at the cases in my lap for a long moment, long enough for the rest of the car to be silent.
"Is there anything from this century in here?" I say finally. I look at Riley and she laughs outright when she sees my face. I realize that she set me up for this, and was watching me to see my reaction.
"There is actually." She points to the glove box again, amused. "There's still a couple in there."
I grunt, reaching for the last couple of cases. "It's not like they're going to be any better." I complain. I take out the last two CDs. One is a compilation of old country hits, but the other is labeled "Music from the 2000's". I look at Riley flatly, unimpressed with her version of 'better'. "Seriously?" I ask, holding it up.
"Seriously." She nods and looks like she's holding back another laugh.
"What's the hold up?" Joseph says suddenly. I hold the CD up so he can see, but it only amplifies his excitement. I don't know why I expected anything else from him really. "Well put it in!" He insists.
"No, put the eighties one in." John suggests.
"Yeah, not a chance." I say, opening the 2000's case.
Joseph whoops when he sees me putting it in the slot. I hear a whirring sound and then the unmistakable beat of a song I remember. I hear Marina mutter "oh God" and Stanley puts his head in his hands, apparently feeling the same way I do about the nostalgic song that was way overplayed in its time.
"I love this song!" Joseph exclaims. I hear him start to clap and I close my eyes, feeling tempted to copy Stanley's move.
More clapping Joins him and I look back to see it's John, looking way too enthusiastic about the song, I assume just to annoy me. It's doesn't work, as usual. He bobs his head really hard and has such an intense facial expression that I have to turn my head to hide a grin.
Pretty soon Riley is banging the beat onto the steering wheel, joining the sounds behind me. They go through the first verse and it all leads up until the two nearly-grown men behind me belt out the first words of the chorus...
"Since you been gone!"
The note is so horribly hit that Riley cringes and turns the radio up so loud that nobody's singing can even be heard.
"I can breath for the first time!"
I'm not sure which is preferable, listening to the terrible singing voices or dealing with the assault of such a classic 2000's song being forced into my ears.
"I'm so moving on! Yeah, yeah!
Eventually I stop trying to decide which aspect to hate more, and find myself singing along, although I'm definitely not as excited as John or Joseph. Riley is pretty into the song too, but I can't tell if she's singing or not due to the volume. She's probably not though. She doesn't like singing around people, even if she can't be heard. Although, it seems dancing is fair game.
By the end of the song I'm thankful for the silence but significantly less entertained now that everything is quiet again. I guess the road trip was missing this, but I could do with a volume change. As though reading my thoughts, or having the same ones, Riley reaches forward and turns the volume dial as the next song comes on. This one is even worse than the first. Even though everyone can now hear then, Joseph and John don't seem to care, and I think Stanley actually joins in this time too.
"I gotta feeling! Ooh ooooh!"
I lean my head back on the headrest and close my eyes, stubbornly accepting defeat against the nostalgic force of the Black Eyed Peas.
. . .
My eyes are glued to the digital clock on the dash, silently urging the minute to change by the power of my thoughts alone. We got on the highway at exactly 6:22 this morning. It's a weird thing to remember eight hours later, but that is the most prevalent thought in my mind as I watch the clock stubbornly stay on 2:21. This thing was supposed to take eight hours, but yet, there's no ski hill in sight.
2:22
My eyes shoot to the road in front of us as I comprehend the time change. I half expect the ski hill to just emerge somehow from the side of the highway, but basic logic tells me that won't happen. The only explanation is that we're behind schedule. Refraining from saying anything, I just lean back and watch the road go by once more, letting the now quiet music wash over me.
"Okay, what the fuck." Stanley suddenly says.
Five pairs of eyebrows shoot up at the same time and four pairs of eyes settle the person occupying the seat behind me. Thankfully Riley chose to keep hers on the road.
Stanley gestures vaguely to the front of the vehicle. "It's been eight hours. Where the hell is the ski hill?"
"Are you telling me that you payed attention to the exact time we got on the highway? Because I don't believe that." John says. I can't believe that he would do that either, but who would have thought I would do it? I'll never admit it though.
"Believe what you want, but it's been eight hours, and I'm not seeing anything."
He shoots an accusing look at Riley and even though she's not looking, she must feel the scrutiny because she opens her mouth to defend herself. "Well believe what you want, but there were more bathroom breaks than I accounted for. We're just a little behind schedule so you can relax."
Stanley sighs but surprisingly takes her advice. "How much behind schedule?" He asks, his voice less accusing than before.
Riley looks more shocked than me at his compliance but quickly answers anyway. "Two minutes, tops."
"So you're saying that in exactly two minutes, I'll see the ski hill."
"Yes, and if it's any longer than that, you reserve the right to get out and start walking."
That actually makes him laugh.
John
"Alright, it's been two minutes."
Riley raises an eyebrow. "Your point?"
I'm surprised at her tone, but I find it more astonishing that after eight hours of ridicule and doubt, she's only slightly losing her cool now.
"My point is, where is the ski-" Stanley pauses. "Oh."
"Yeah, oh."
Sure enough, looming up on the left side of the highway, a mountain seems to emerge from the falling snow. I already know it's huge from the past times I've been here, but on a day like today, with a grey sky and flurries of snow making the upper part of the mountain disappear, it's a bit of trouble to take the whole thing in. I feel a little disappointed because seeing the mountain for the first time in ages is one of my favourite parts of the trip, but it doesn't look as impressive when half of it isn't even visible. Well, at least not to me.
Maren seems quite intrigued by the sight, a giant mountain towering over what seems like a tiny lodge in comparison. Her eyebrows are raised, but the thing that really shows her interest is the way her eyes never leave the hill. I suddenly wonder if she's ever been out of the province, or even out of the city before.
"Yeah, today wouldn't be a very good day for skiing." Riley chuckles, also noting the type of day it is up there.
"It's bigger than I thought." Maren says to Riley, her eyes still focused on it.
I see Stanley smirk and he looks at me. I roll my eyes because I already know what's coming. That's what she said, he mouths. At least he had the decency not to say it out loud.
"Two thousand one hundred and twenty feet isn't actually that tall for a ski hill." Riley shrugs.
Maren gives her a look. "It's a still pretty fucking tall."
Riley laughs, not seeming bothered by the blunt tone. "Yeah, I guess it is."
Even though it looks like the ski hill is located directly off the highway, it turns out it's actually on its own little road dedicated to hotels, shops and the ski lodge itself, all built for the purpose of winter vacationing. It's like a whole different place as soon as we get off the highway, and the street becomes its own mini town with shops and sidewalks and people. The only thing that remotely dampens the tranquility is the too-heavy dose of snow we're getting that's turning the sky grey. But it'll be dark soon anyway, so it won't really matter in another couple hours. Thankfully it's supposed to be a nicer day tomorrow.
According the information on the sheet we got from the school, the place we're staying in shares the same parking lot as the lodge. It seems nobody could be bothered to clear the parking lot fully of the snow, because my boots are met with slushy snow as soon as I step out after a heavy tug on the sliding back door. I put the seat down for Marina and Joseph because Stanley doesn't look like he's moving anytime soon, sitting there on his phone like he wasn't just complaining about the length of the trip a minute ago. I'm the first to get to the back of the van, shortly followed by Riley, who comes literally sliding around the corner, the soggy ice doing nothing to help her. I rush to catch her before she can fall and end up grabbing both her arms to hold her up.
"Phew, thanks. That was like a trust exercise or something." She gives my arm a pat when I let her go, apparently unconcerned about her ill-tempered balance.
I pull the door open and watch as a couple of the bags fall unceremoniously onto the wet ground. We both look at the two very-not-waterproof bags that are making slow progress with indenting themselves into the soggy ice.
"I hope those are Stanley's." I say.
Riley smiles crookedly, and then whispers, "Me too."
I laugh as her smile turns sheepish right after she says it. "Somebody's bags fell out of the car!" I call around the vehicle, neither of us putting an effort into picking it up. We wouldn't be able to get it back in the vehicle if we tried anyway.
Coincidentally, Stanley is the first to join us behind the van, immediately reaching for the bags. "Shit, those are mine." He complains.
"Aw, what a shame." Riley shakes her head in mock sympathy.
There's a shout behind us and we all turn to see Mr. Byrne coming from the lodge. The trip was required to have a chaperone- staying in a separate room of course- but I'm glad it turned out to be him. He's one of the few teachers I actually don't hate. He gestures for one of us to come over so I nudge Riley, who sighs but starts walking anyway, putting on a smile for her favourite teacher.
"Is that Mr. Byrne?" Joseph asks, coming around the vehicle along with everybody else that were not yet outside.
"He must be the chaperone." I say, then I grimace. "Good thing too. I heard Mr. Collins was in the running." Everyone makes a sound similar to 'ew' and I nod.
"Oh Jesus, can you imagine?" Stanley shakes his head. "We wouldn't hear our first names the entire trip. It would just be, Mr. Smith, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Teresa." He puts on a nasally, monotoned voice when saying the names, and even I have to appreciate how accurate the impression is.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Riley and Mr. Byrne splitting up, Riley making her way back over here and our teacher heading back into the lodge, where I assume the check-in desk is. She waves a key at us on her way over.
"We're room eight." She explains. "Which means we're on the second floor."
"Joy." Maren says flatly, eyeing the soggy wooden set of stairs that leads to the second story rooms. I hope they're salted.
Stanley is the first to go up with his bags since they're already in his hands. Riley has to go up with him to unlock the door so the rest of us grab our own stuff from the back and soon all that's left are two snowboards, a couple bags, and several cases of beer. Maren helps Marina with one of her bags, and is the next to go up the questionably safe wooden stairs. I only have one bag so I take the other one for Marina since Joseph has his hands full. I don't ask why she needed to take three bags.
I pass Riley and Stanley on my way up the stairs, going down to get more stuff I would assume. The door is left open when I get to it so I just walk in. Stanley has his stuff placed randomly around the porch and Maren appears in the doorway of the nearest room just as Marina and Joseph come in behind me. I guess she wanted to have first pick.
"How many beds are there?" She asks.
I wrack my brain for a minute before remembering that the number of beds in the room are half the number that are on the team. I guess we're all supposed to be friends anyway so sharing shouldn't matter, but only having three beds does pose an issue for us since a guy and girl will have to share a bed.
"Three." I reply, looking around and noticing only one room on the main floor. There must be two more on the second floor. "So we're going to need to share."
Everyone can conclude at once the problem that poses. I notice Marina and Joe glance at each other for a minute before looking away just as quickly. They are the only couple out of all of us, but it doesn't mean they have to be the ones to solve the problem. I don't think they're too comfortable with it either.
"Mar, I already put your bag in this room." Maren says, probably noticing the same thing I did. "So you're with me."
Marina seems absolutely fine with that so I give her her third bag so she can take it in the room. Joseph looks at me and grins when it's clear that we'll be having to make the decision next.
"What do you say, buddy? Wanna move in with me?" He looks at me with a big show of hopefulness so I decide to play along.
"Joseph, this is all so sudden..." I put a hand on my chest. "Don't you think we're moving a bit fast?"
"A platonic love this strong cannot be confined by silly things like time."
"Joseph... I don't know what to say."
"Then say yes." He puts down one of his bags and takes my free hand. "Please."
I nod, pretending to be in deep thought. "Okay. I'll do it."
"Really?"
"Really."
He grins and suddenly drops his bag, throwing his arms around me. He thumps his fist on my back and I do the same, both us acting completely ridiculous. Although, when you've been friends with someone for almost your entire life, there really is no such thing as acting ridiculous.
There's a short laugh somewhere down the hall and I pull apart from my 'heartfelt' hug with Joseph to look and see Maren leaning her shoulder on the doorframe of the room with an amused little smile. "Sorry to be the one to break this to you, Marina, but I think you just lost your boyfriend." She says, turning her head to talk to her friend who must be inside the room by now.
Marina laughs. "Oh God, this weekend is going to be awkward then."
Joseph grins and Maren turns toward us again, putting up her hands. "Sorry for interrupting. Please proceed with... that." She chuckles before disappearing back into the room.
Joseph and I go upstairs and drop off our stuff into one of the bedrooms, coming right back down again to see Stanley and Riley come in with a few cases of beer each. Hopefully Mr. Byrne didn't see them bring it in. Riley goes back down for the rest of her stuff, declining several offers of help. I'm honestly more worried about her slipping again rather than the load she'll be carrying up, but she goes down by herself anyway.
"So," Stanley drops the beer on the floor in nice stack, "I have two questions: Where is the fridge, and where am I sleeping?"
Joseph and I look at each other. "There's one bed left upstairs." I say.
"Oh, perfect." He makes a grab for his stuff.
"But Riley doesn't have anywhere to sleep yet either."
He pauses, looking at me with furrowed eyebrows. "How many beds are there in this place?"
"Three."
"Oh." He looks up carpeted stairs for a moment, seeming to think for a moment, which he doesn't do often. "So..." he raises his eyebrows, looking for an explanation or an affirmation, I'm not sure which.
"You guys might have to share." I explain.
"Or, someone can take the couch." Maren's voice cuts in, also known as the voice of reason. We all turn to see her standing in the hallway with her arms crossed. Even from here I can see the end of the short hallway leads into a living room, a couch in plain sight. She rolls her eyes at our dumb looks. "Figures, you were all so caught up in thinking about the problem that you forgot to think about solutions to the problem."
"What problem?" Riley walks in through the open door and closes it behind her, a big duffel bag on one shoulder, a backpack on her back and a snowboard in her other hand. Maren looks confused at the latter.
"They thought you might need to share a bed with Stanley until they discovered a couch." She explains. "When did you get a snowboard?"
"So am I sleeping in the couch or the bed? And last week when I bought the jacket."
"You and Stanley need to figure that out. Did you buy it with your Christmas money?"
"Well, which floor are you guys staying on? Inheritance."
Maren points to the room she's chosen, nodding to communicate her acknowledgment of the seemingly random word thrown in at the back of Riley's sentence.
As always, I'm kind of amazed at their weird way of communication. This time it's just two conversations going on at once, but I've seen weirder from them. Between the three women, I've seen them get a understandings across using facial expressions, mouthing words, or even just looking at each other. They always seem to get their points across with minimal complications, but it confuses the hell out of the rest of us, who prefer to simply voice our opinions instead of using more complicated methods.
"Okay, if you guys are staying down here I'll take the couch." Riley states, unbothered by not having the bed. I think she tries to make a hand gesture before she realizes she's kind of loaded down. She settles for just the words. "So each gender can have their own floor." We all nod because it makes sense. Well except for Stanley, but he's always difficult anyway.
"Wait, that's not fair. You guys get the kitchen and living room." He says, looking down through the hall.
"Obviously you guys can use the kitchen." Riley intercepts before Maren can say whatever smart remark that caused her to open her mouth. "All I'm thinking about is the bathrooms, because we have one down here. I'm assuming you guys have one up there." She looks at Joseph and I and we nod, already having scoped out the place. "Well good, it's all worked out then." She smiles, having a strange way of making things a million times simpler. She starts walking past with her two bags and snowboard.
"Hey, Pierce." Stanley says. She stops and turns to him. He smirks. "If that couch gets uncomfortable, you know where to find me."
My eyes immediately find Maren's like they usually do when Stanley says something like that, to communicate our annoyances with someone who we both know will agree. But when our eyes meet this time, she looks away right after, focusing on the ground instead. When she was weird earlier, I just blamed it on hunger and maybe a bit of tiredness from this morning. She's definitely not hungry now, but I suppose she could still be tired. I don't try to figure her out because I don't think I'll ever be able to.
Riley chuckles at Stanley's proposition. "I'll keep that is mind. But I'm sure the couch will be very comfortable." She rolls her eyes and goes into Maren and Marina's room with her stuff. It makes sense to put it in there since she can't exactly have it all in the living room. Stanley grins, seeming much more confident now that he's sure they won't actually we sharing a bed. The guy is weird.
"I guess we should all go get our stuff sorted and then go out for a late lunch?" I suggest. Everyone agrees and we go upstairs while the girls all go into the room downstairs.
Joseph and I don't bother with putting anything in the dresser, just laying our bags in each corner of the room. After that's done we kind of just stay in the room, not knowing what else we can do. It doesn't take long at all for Stanley to come in, already bored like we are.
"That was easy." He states, sprawling on the bed. We all sit there in silence for a minute.
"Well if we're ready this fast, doesn't that mean the girls will be done too?" I ask. They both appear to think about it for a second before nodding.
"Yeah, I mean there's not much to do so they should probably be ready. I bet they're waiting for us to come down." Joseph says laughing. The sound of muffled conversation can be heard downstairs and we all look at each other.
"Yup, they're definitely waiting for us." Stanley says, groaning as he sits up. "Let's go."
We all get up and begin to make our way down the narrow stairs. As we get closer to the bottom, the voices become clearer, and they almost sound... angry? We shoot confused glances at one another but continue down anyway. And it seems like Maren and Marina are doing to majority of the talking... or yelling. I can hear a quieter voice interjecting every now and then too that I'm guessing is Riley.
We can finally hear the conversation clearly when we get to the last stair.
"I already called dibs on the top drawer! You can't just take it!"
"It doesn't count if it's in your head, Maren!"
"I said it out loud! You just didn't hear!"
"Well I need it more, I'm taller."
"BY LIKE ONE INCH!"
"IT DOESN'T MATTER! I NEED IT!"
"NO YOU DON'T. YOU ALSO DIDN'T NEED THREE FUCKING BAGS OF CLOTHES BUT HERE WE ARE!"
"No, I don't want a drawer, thanks for asking though-"
"IT'S NOT MY FAULT THAT I WANT TO BE PREPARED FOR EVERY SITUATION!"
"HOW MANY SITUATIONS DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING TO COME ACROSS? YOU'LL BE EATING, SLEEPING, AND SKIING! JUST PICK A SHIRT AND WEAR IT!
"I think what we really need to do now is take a deep breath and ask ourselves-"
"SHUT UP."
Stanley, Joseph and I share a concerned look. We wait a few more moments of yelling until- collectively and without a word- turning around and quietly going back up the stairs. We shut ourselves in the room and wait.
"So..." Joseph says eventually. "I guess they're not ready."
Stanley nods, and then after a moment says, "I have a feeling this is gonna get weird."
"Yeah." I lean back on the head board and stretch my legs out. "You're not the only one."
Thanks for reading! I'm not completely happy with that chapter, mostly because I was rushing to get it up, but here it is anyway. Hope you liked it and leave a review if you did (or didn't). Anyway, have a fabulous day and I'll be trying hard to get the next chapter up in a reasonable amount of time :)