A/N: Finally got it posted! Hope you like it.
Brittany stared out the window, watching as their convertible passed each car along the highway. They'd been on the road for almost five hours, and Brittany hadn't spoken the Alvin since their conversation they had a minute after they left.
"So how much cash did you bring?" Alvin had asked eagerly as he turned off their street.
"I don't know," Brittany told him. "I didn't have time to count. I just grabbed what I could."
"Count it."
Brittany didn't like being bossed around, but she was curious about the amount of money too. So she reached into her purse and pulled out the wrinkled bills.
Moments later, she froze. That couldn't be right…
"How much is there?" Alvin asked.
Brittany swallowed down a squeal of horror. She counted again.
Shit.
"It's not a big deal," Brittany said, shoving the money back into her bag. "I brought my credit card—"
"A credit card that can be tracked and cancelled when Dave and Miss Miller find out you're gone," Alvin said. Brittany would have been impressed by this good point if she didn't hate him. "We'll have to do everything with cash. Untraceable cash. So how much did you bring?"
Brittany stared straight ahead and watched their vehicle approach a station wagon that looked older than Miss Miller. The more she thought about it, the more her small amount of money made sense. She tried not to dip into her cash stash, but it was impossible not to! She couldn't turn down those awesome hot pink sunglasses at PacSun, or those itty bitty denim shorts at Tommy Hilfiger that made her butt look super cute. Between those and recent purchases of new bikinis and bottles of tanning oil, her unimpressive cash total wasn't all that surprising.
"Brittany!" Alvin snapped. "Hello? How much did you bring?"
"Eighty-four dollars," Brittany muttered.
Alvin blinked. "What did you say?"
"Eighty-four dollars," she said louder.
"ARE YOU KIDDING?" Alvin barked. "Eighty-four—Brittany! What the hell? Why even bother coming? Do you know how far we're going to get with eighty-four dollars?"
Brittany whipped her head toward him and gave that loudmouth the nastiest glare she could muster. "Well excuse me for splurging a bit on my new summer wardrobe! Besides, maybe if you would have given me more time to get ready, I could have found more money!"
Brittany didn't remember much of the conversation after that. It mostly consisted of more yelling, until finally Alvin said, "Well it won't matter soon anyway, because once I find some gigs, money won't be an issue."
The sad thing was that Brittany was pretty sure Alvin believed every word.
After that, Alvin turned on the radio, and aside from his annoying drumming on the steering wheel and occasion whistling to a song's chorus, the only sound in the car was music.
Brittany's forehead rested against the warm glass and she closed her eyes. She had been able to get about an hour of sleep during the ride, if that. The rest of the time she had just stared at the billboard-lined highway and tried not to let her mind drift back to the whole Bart and Missy thing. Everyone in town had probably heard about it by now. They probably knew that Brittany acted like a total spazz and threw up in the rose bushes. Why had she done that? That wasn't Brittany Miller at all! The Brittany Miller everyone knew and loved would have marched right up to Bart and given him a piece of her mind. She would have yelled at Snootson too, and then set up a plan to humiliate her sometime during the night.
But no. Brittany had to run away like a complete dork and cry and puke in front of hundreds of people.
She squeezed her eyes tighter, and managed to block the thoughts out. Her breathing became steady. Her body relaxed. The California heat felt good on her face. The world slowly started to disappear…
Suddenly loud guitar music filled the car. Brittany flinched at the loud noise and bumped her head against the window.
"OW!" She glared at the smug driver to her left. She wasn't sure what made her head hurt worse; the horrid sounds coming from the speakers or the bruise forming on the side of her head. "What the hell, Alvin?!"
"It's the latest Nirvana album!" Alvin shouted over Kurt Cobain. "Just got it a few weeks ago!"
"I'm surprised you actually bought something with all your amazing money-saving skills!" Brittany yelled.
"WHAT? CAN'T HEAR YOU!"
Brittany turned the volume control all the way down until the car was silent. "Why do you have to be so obnoxious?" she demanded. "I was trying to sleep!"
"And I was trying to listen to Nirvana," Alvin fired back. He turned the volume up again and yelled, "Ya know, at first I wasn't a fan of grunge, but it's not so bad!"
Brittany grimaced. She hated grunge and the hideous style that went with it.
Flannel. Grease. Seattle. It was enough to make her shudder.
"TURN IT DOWN!" Brittany screeched.
Alvin turned it up even more, until the windows began to shake.
"IF YOU DON'T TURN IT DOWN, I'LL CALL DAVE AND TELL HIM WHERE YOU ARE!"
Alvin just grinned. "Go ahead! Good luck finding a ride home after I leave you at the payphone!" He chuckled. "That's not gonna work anymore, Brittany. You lost any power you had the second we pulled out of my driveway."
Brittany's left eye twitched. No. No, no, no. This was not happening. She didn't let anyone push her around or tell her what to do; especially not Alvin Seville.
"No power, huh?" When Alvin faced forward, she rolled down the passenger's window slightly. Then, in one swift motion, she ejected the cassette from the stereo and tossed it out of the car.
"BRITTANY!" Alvin yelled. They watched a pick-up truck run over the tape in the rearview mirror. "WHAT THE HELL?"
The Chipette turned to him, her heart swelling with pride. She was such a badass. "I have more power than you think," Brittany reminded him with a very satisfied grin. "And don't you forget it."
"You know," Alvin barked, "I'd ask you to buy me another one, but you're too fucking poor."
Brittany titled her head. "But I'm sure you'll be able to buy a new one with all the money you're going to make during this little adventure."
Alvin lifted his chin with confidence. "Damn straight."
Brittany narrowed her eyes. He was so lame.
"So do you even know where we're going?" she asked. He hadn't looked at a map the whole trip.
Alvin adjusted his Ray Bans. "Life's a journey, not a destination."
She rolled her eyes. That was Alvin's "cool way" of telling her that he had no idea where they were headed.
"Great!" Brittany said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm stuck on a highway with you of all people, with nothing to do and nowhere to go." She examined an oily strand of hair resting on her shoulder and made a face. "Plus I need a shower."
"Quit being such a baby," Alvin told her. "You were the one who wanted to tag along so badly."
"Well excuse me for thinking you actually had a plan," she snapped.
Alvin snorted. "Please. You knew what you were getting yourself into."
Brittany sulked by crossing her arms and staring out the window. She clearly hadn't known what she was getting herself into. It served her right for not thinking things through.
"You know," Alvin pointed out, "we've only been on the road for five hours. Are you going to yell and whine the whole tune?"
"Are you going to act like a jackass the whole time?" Brittany asked.
"Of course." Alvin smirked.
"Then yes, I'm going to be whining and yelling a lot."
A long silence went by, and Brittany spent most of that time wishing she would have packed her Walkman to block out Alvin's annoying voice.
"So why did you want to come anyway?" Alvin asked as he switched lanes, passing yet another car at an illegal speed.
"It's none of your business," Brittany replied, not moving her eyes from the window.
"You don't think I deserve to know?"
Brittany finally turned to him and gave him the most disgusted look she could muster. "No." Like she was ever going to tell Alvin that her boyfriend cheated on her with her worst enemy at the biggest party of the year. He'd never let her live that down.
"Whatever," Alvin said. "You'll tell me eventually. It's not like you have anyone else to talk to."
Brittany opened her mouth to say something else, but was interrupted by a loud growl that came from her stomach.
Alvin snickered. "Sounds like someone is hungry."
"No," Brittany said, her face flushed. But her stomach betrayed her as another low growl came again. She hadn't eaten anything since that handful of pretzels at the party last night, and she had puked that up. It made sense that she was starving, but she wasn't about to beg Alvin for anything.
Suddenly the car jutted into the right lane, causing several cars behind them to honk. Alvin cut off even more people as he went into the further right lane and sped up the exit ramp.
"What was that?" Brittany shrieked. Her heart was pounding. "We could have been killed!"
"Maybe," Alvin agreed. There was no concern or worry on his face. He was acting like he was leisurely looking for a parking spot rather than cutting people off full speed on a crowded California highway. "But then you would have had to wait another ten miles until the next exit to eat."
"You could have at least warned me."
"We're getting on the exit now, Brittany."
She glared at him. "Very funny."
"Glad you think so," he said with a grin.
Alvin pulled into the first lot off the highway, which surrounded a small diner.
"We're eating here?" Brittany wrinkled her nose, taking in the dirty windows, the chipped paint on the building, and the ancient-looking sign covered in bird poop.
"Don't judge a book by its cover," Alvin said, once again stealing a quote to look wise.
Brittany stepped out of the car and stretched her stiff limbs. She breathed in deeply to get some fresh air, but coughed when exhaust from all the trucks hit her lungs. Lovely.
Alvin and Brittany made their way inside. The diner was too hot and smelled like stale coffee, burnt eggs, and old people. The white tile floor was stained and scuffed, and giant noisy fan in the corner was beyond useless.
Brittany put her hands on her hips and looked at Alvin. "Looks like the inside matches the outside after all."
Alvin lifted up his sunglasses so that they sat on the top of his head. "Well you'll just have to get used to it. We can't afford to eat at nice places, so you'll just have to stop being so much of a snob and—"
"I am not a snob!" Brittany argued.
Alvin stared at her for a moment before he bent over and started laughing.
Brittany stomped her foot. "I'm not!" she insisted.
She was pretty sure she saw tears in his eyes when he straightened up. "Not a snob!" he chuckled. "Oh, that's rich. That is rich!"
"I hate you," Brittany muttered, pushing past him to find the bathrooms.
After using the filthy single-stalled restroom (an experience that required lots of toilet paper to be on the toilet seat before Brittany used it, and nearly a gallon of that cheap pink soap to wash her hands), the two sat in an empty booth and watched as a bored, overweight woman with an ugly grey perm shuffled over to take their order. She practically threw the menus at them.
Alvin ordered some huge pancake meal, but Brittany stared at the menu in horror. This wasn't food. This was all just fat and grease and oil that was bad for her skin and thighs!
"What do you want?" The waitress asked impatiently. Her voice was so rough and deep that it hurt Brittany's ears.
"Um…" Brittany desperately scanned the menu for something that wouldn't make her bloat. "Water and a fruit salad."
"That all?" The grouchy lady asked, scribbling the order down on her notepad.
"That's all," Brittany confirmed, ignoring the protesting growl from her stomach.
The waitress walked away and yelled their orders to the people at behind the counter. Brittany examined her fingernails, trying to ignore the fact that Alvin was staring at her. After a while, she couldn't.
"What?" she spat.
"Fruit and water?" Alvin questioned. "I thought you were hungry."
"Mind your own business."
They didn't speak for a while. The unrestored 50's style jukebox played an old Buddy Holly song. Coffee mugs clanked and silverware scraped against plates and bowls. The old men at the counter were loudly bickering about some baseball game that happened thirty years ago.
"Do you think you're fat or something?" Alvin's voice made Brittany flinch.
"What?" she screeched. "Don't be ridiculous! Of course I don't think I'm fat. I'm perfect. I just want to stay that way."
Alvin just rolled his eyes. "Whatever."
"Well I can't exactly exercise while sitting in that stupid little car all day," Brittany pointed out. "So I have to start eating even better than before to make up for it."
"You were the one who wanted to sit in that stupid little car all day," Alvin reminded her. "Stop trying to blame me for all this."
Brittany was about to say something when their food was set out in front of them. Alvin dug right into his pancakes and seemed to forget all about Brittany, so she didn't bother coming up with a response.
She stared at the mushy berries and bruised apple slices in her bowl. The she watched Alvin pour thick maple syrup on his stack of fluffy golden pancakes. The sugary smell his Brittany's nostrils and made her mouth water. She looked down before Alvin could notice her gaping, and speared a slimy piece of banana with her fork.
"How's the fruit?" Alvin asked a minute later, his mouth full of pancake. His taunting eyes mocked her as she forced herself to swallow the tasteless strawberries she had just put in her mouth.
"I'm choosing the next place we eat at," was her answer.
"Fine," Alvin said. He took a long swig of orange juice. "You can pay for it too."
"So that means you're paying for this then?"
"Yeah, I figured we could take turns or something. And I picked it out, so I might as well pay for this one."
Brittany looked around the old, boring diner. The 1950's posters were peeling off the wall and a hunched over man in the corner was using brown water to mop the floor.
"When did you become so cheap?" Brittany asked. It wasn't really supposed to offend him; it was a serious question. He was constantly blowing his money on expensive things. For prom, he'd rented a red carpet and a matching red limousine for him and his date to make their entrance. Rumor had it that she had originally chosen a violet dress for the event, but Alvin bought her a red one to wear instead, to match his whole theme. Alvin Seville was not known for being frugal.
"Since I know we need to start saving our money if we want to make it across the country and back," Alvin said as if it was obvious.
That's when Brittany realized how serious he was about this whole thing. This was a guy who loved to splurge, probably even more than Brittany did because the Seville's had more money than Brittany's family did. But the fact that Alvin was actually willing to conserve money by eating in this dump so he could complete this trip showed Brittany how important this was to him. It was almost endearing.
Almost.
Brittany spent the rest of breakfast making herself eat her disgusting meal and trying not to stare at Alvin's in envy. Once they were both finished, Alvin swaggered up to the counter and leaned against it. A lot of people stared, and Alvin probably thought they were looking at him because he looked cool, but Brittany figured it was because no one under the age of sixty ever stepped foot in there.
"So are there any places a guy can sing around here?" Alvin casually asked the workers behind the counter.
The large crabby lady who took their order blinked. "Pardon?"
"Oh, you know," Alvin went on, "a karaoke place, open night at a bar, a singing contest?"
"No," the woman said, along with a cook, two other waitresses, and a few elderly people who were sipping their prune juice from cracked glasses.
"Oh," Alvin said, looking slightly taken aback. He cleared his throat. "Okay then." He turned to Brittany. "Well, looks like we better keep driving to find a gig."
"Yay," Brittany deadpanned.
She followed Alvin outside, and reluctantly climbed into the car. It felt like a prison and it had only been a few hours. How was she going to do this for a whole summer?
Just remember why you're doing this, Brittany told herself. You can't be home right now. This is the right choice. It just has to be.
But as soon as Alvin turned on the radio and started bobbing his head to another ugly grunge song, she wasn't so sure.