The Road That Leads to Us Page 7

  “What are you doing?” He finally asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.

  “Hang on.”

  He groaned, not liking being left out of the loop.

  I didn’t know why it mattered to him anyway. He wasn’t ever seeing the contents of it.

  “I’m done!” I cried, putting the cap back on the pen and finishing my sandwich.

  “Lemme see!” Dean tried to snag the journal but I smacked his hand away.

  “Ow,” he waved his hand in the air, “that hurt.”

  “Aw, poor baby,” I pouted, “do you want me to kiss it and make it better?”

  “No.” His brows furrowed into a line as he tried to pretend he was mad. “Tell me what you did to it.”

  I shrugged. “I thought after what you said it was only appropriate that I titled this journal Dean & Willow’s Epic Road Trip. See, you got all excited for nothing. It wasn’t a big deal.”

  “What do you write in there?” He asked me.

  I narrowed my eyes on the side of his face. “You’ll never know.”

  “It’s all about how devastatingly handsome I am, isn’t it?” He quipped. “Wait for it…” He paused. “Here comes the smolder.” He angled his jaw down and pursed his lips, glancing at me from the corner of his eye.

  “You. Are. Insane.” I giggled and smacked his arm lightly.

  “If I’m insane, then you should be in a straight jacket.”

  I couldn’t really argue with him there.

  I put my journal away and dug in my backpack for my sunglasses. The sun was already shining brightly and I didn’t want to squint.

  I reached down and changed the radio, fiddling with it until I found an old rock station.

  Dean chuckled and adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. “Most people ask before they change the radio in someone’s car…actually, most people just don’t do that.”

  I grinned at him and stuck a lollipop in my mouth. “I’m not most people.”

  “That’s true.” He reached out and turned down the volume.

  I’d been jamming out to Aerosmith, so of course I glared at him.

  “Why’d you do that?” I groaned. “That song is everything.”

  “Let’s talk,” he said simply.

  “Talk?” I repeated the word like it had offended me and wrinkled my nose. “What’s there to talk about?”

  “I don’t know…” He said, waiting for me to fill in the blanks. When I didn’t he added, “College?”

  “Oh God.” Not even the sweet taste of the lollipop could keep the bitterness of the word college off of my tongue.

  “Come on,” he coaxed, “tell me about it.”

  “You wouldn’t understand.” Standard teenage rebuttal right there.

  “Try me, Will.”

  I sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to let this topic drop anytime soon—same with that atrocious nickname. Dean was stubborn like that. I was too. That was another reason why we clicked.

  “I don’t have the excuse that it was my first time being away from home. We were always on the road growing up. So that’s not the issue,” I explained. “College is…it’s a whole different ballgame. I feel so lost up there. Like everyone around me is moving a hundred miles an hour and I’m standing still. I feel like I’m going nowhere and that sucks.” I paused, inhaling a lungful of air. “I’m not happy there, but I’m not sure if it’s that particular college, or me.”

  “Do you want my honest opinion?” He asked, glancing at me with a softened look in his eyes before they darted back to the road.

  “Always.”

  “College isn’t for you, Will. You’re so much bigger than that place and it’s sucking the life out of you. It’s like you’re moving backward instead of forward.”

  “That’s exactly how I feel.” He’d summarized it so much better than I had.

  He reached over with his free hand and grabbed mine, entwining our fingers together.

  He didn’t say anything more.

  He didn’t have to.

  His gesture said it all.

  He was here and he wasn’t going anywhere.

  Dean

  Getting Willow to open up was never an easy feat, but she’d caved readily this time.

  From the moment she admitted how she felt, and I told her I didn’t think college was for her, it was like a weight had lifted from her shoulders and she could finally breathe.

  I hated to think of Willow, practically alone in New York City for all those months feeling miserable. A city like that wasn’t for Willow. She needed open space where she could run free and be herself. Instead she’d been trying to be what everyone thought she should be. I knew Willow’s parents wouldn’t want her feeling so trapped. They were good people, and loved her a lot, and all they’d want was for her to be happy.

  Willow still held onto my hand and I had to admit it felt good.

  Maybe a little too good.

  I didn’t know what had come over me, but from the moment Willow surprised me at the garage it was like my axis had shifted and everything was pointing towards her.

  She was my best friend, and I’d always loved her, but suddenly my feelings were becoming less and less platonic.

  I was scared, terrified really, because Willow might not feel the same way. She was almost two years younger than me, only having just turned nineteen, and her father would probably lose it…actually, he most definitely would, if we got together.

  But more and more, the idea of having someone else in my life—some faceless, nameless girl—held no appeal.

  When I closed my eyes all I saw was Willow.

  When I opened them in the morning my first thought was of her.

  My brain seemed to be in a constant loop of Willow, Willow, Willow.

  I didn’t know quite what to do with this sudden turn of events.

  She’d always been my friend and now…now I thought of her in ways I most definitely shouldn’t.

  This trip was definitely going to test the limits of my self-control.

  I glanced over at her, noting the peaceful smile on her lips.

  She sensed my eyes on her and turned to look at me. “What?”

  “Nothing,” I said, my gaze drifting back to the road.

  “You’re a liar.” She turned and blew a big ass bubble beside my head, trying to get a rise out of me. “Come on, spill it, Dean. You made me talk about college, now it’s your turn.”

  Panic like I’d never felt before seized me.

  There was no way I could tell Willow I thought I had feelings for her. Especially when I still wasn’t certain exactly what those feelings were. I didn’t want to speak too soon and ruin our relationship. I’d never forgive myself.

  “There’s nothing to tell.” I stared straight ahead at the road even though the pressure of her eyes on the side of my face was begging me to glance at her.

  “Fine.” She snapped her gum. “You’ll tell me eventually.” She turned to look out the side at the passing trees and farms. “One cow. Two cow. Three cow.” She began to count, in an effort to irritate me enough to tell her what was on my mind.

  “Not gonna work, Will.”

  “You can be such a moody little pansy.” She huffed and pulled her journal out once more and began to doodle what looked like a bird. “Stop looking at my journal and drive!” She scolded, hiding the pages against her chest.

  I grinned even though I knew she was slightly miffed with me. I also knew Willow could never stay mad with me for long.

  I turned the volume on the radio back up and in no time she was moving her head to the beat and singing along. Music was in Willow’s blood. It was in mine too. Both of my parents could sing, and my dad played guitar, but they’d never pursued music like Willow’s dad. He was the real deal.

  Willow began to sing the lyrics, her voice going from a whisper to a full on shout.

  She swayed her arms in the air, really getting into it.

  Her enthusiasm was contagious and I began
to sing too.

  She grinned at me and I knew I was forgiven.

  The song ended and she collapsed against me, wrapping her arms around my neck. Her body vibrated against mine with her silent laughter.

  I took a moment to soak up the feel of her arms around me and the scent of her shampoo tickling my nose.

  She pulled away after a moment and blew another big ass bubble, her gum nearly falling out of her mouth when it popped.

  In a lightning fast move, my hand shot out and I snatched her gum.

  “Dean!” She cried as I stuck it in my mouth. “That’s gross!”

  I shrugged. “Not that gross.”

  She sighed and dug around on the floor until she found the bag of lollipops. A moment later she’d popped one in her mouth.

  “At least you can’t try to irritate me with that,” I said.

  She then waved it around beside my face before poking my cheek with the end of it.

  “I stand corrected,” I muttered, chewing on her gum.

  She giggled and reached for the map. “I think we need to exit soon,” she said more to herself than me.

  She spread the map out on her lap and made this little humming sound as she scanned it, dragging her finger down the surface.

  “I’m not really sure what I’m looking at.”

  From the corner of my eye, I saw her tilt her head from side to side as if that would somehow help.

  “This is so confusing.”

  I wanted to laugh at her, but I was as clueless at reading a map as she was.

  Technology had made us all spoiled.

  It made things too easy. When you didn’t have to work at something you couldn’t learn to appreciate it.

  Willow traced her fingernail along what I assumed was an exit and muttered under her breath something I couldn’t hear.

  “I think we’re going to exit in about thirty miles.”

  “Think and about doesn’t sound very confident,” I jested.

  “Hey, Map Boy, this was your idea,” she grumbled, still studying it like a complicated textbook.

  “Map Boy,” I laughed, scratching at my jaw, “sounds like a superhero.”

  “A really annoying one,” she added, “that irritates his sidekick Lolligum to no end.”

  I busted out laughing. “Lolligum? Really, Will?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “It was the only thing I could come up with off the top of my head.”

  “You need that on a shirt.”

  “Noooo,” she drew out the word, “what I need is to know how to read a damn map so that we actually end up in Florida.”

  I shook my head and laughed some more, because I might not be able to read a map, but common sense told me we needed to stay on the interstate a lot longer than thirty miles if we were going to make it to Florida. But this trip wasn’t about getting somewhere. It was about the journey. If Willow thought we needed to exit in thirty miles, then I was going to exit, and who knew what we might find along the way.

  We both grew quiet, and it was the easy kind of quiet where you didn’t feel the need to fill it with endless chatter.

  I couldn’t recall a time where I didn’t feel comfortable around Willow.

  Some time later Willow told me to take an exit.

  And then I drove.

  And drove.

  And drove some more.

  ***

  “We’re lost,” Willow cried, collapsing in the booth of the roadside café we’d stopped at for lunch. “Like so lost.” She propped her head in her hands.

  I slid into the booth across from her and thanked the waitress when she handed me a menu.

  “It’s not a big deal,” I assured her.

  “Ugh,” she groaned, sliding all the way to the end of the booth and putting her back against the wall so she could stretch out her legs. “It is a big deal. I’m a pathetic map reader.”

  “All part of the fun,” I assured her as I scanned the menu. “Stop whining and get something to eat.”

  Her feet thudded to the ground and her hands smacked the table. “Typical guy,” she muttered, “worried about the food and not the fact that we’re LOST!” She shouted the last part, causing nearly every set of eyes in the café to turn towards us.

  “Willow,” I scolded.

  “Fine, fine, fine,” she chanted, “I will consult the menu.”

  I chuckled under my breath. Only Willow would say she was going to consult the menu.

  When the waitress returned we placed our drink order. Water for me and Hi-C for Willow. I resisted the urge to ask her if she was five. She’d probably kick me under the table.

  “I’m not that hungry,” she finally huffed, sliding her menu down the end of the table.

  My brows rose. “If you don’t order then I’ll order for you. I’m thinking something with lots and lots of pickles.”

  Willow hated pickles.

  Her eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “I would.” I steepled my fingers like some sort of evil villain.

  “Ugh, fine.” She groaned, swiping the menu back into her fingers. She perused it for a moment and set it back down with a determined lilt to her lips.

  “Did you decide?” I asked, lifting a brow as I waited for her response.

  She nodded. “I won’t promise to eat it though.”

  I grinned triumphantly.

  I knew Willow. She’d eat it.

  Our waitress returned and we placed our order. When I told her mine I didn’t miss the small gagging motion Willow made.

  When the waitress was gone I crossed my fingers and laid my hands on the table.

  “I still can’t figure out how you eat that much food.” She proceeded to look under the table, like she was searching for some other person hiding under there that I might be feeding it to.

  “I’m a growing boy, Will.” I leaned back in the booth and patted my stomach. “I’ve gotta eat.”

  Her lips slowly tipped up in a smile but immediately slammed back into a frown. “I’m sorry for getting us lost.”

  I shook my head and wiped my fingers through the condensation forming on the glass of water. “Don’t be sorry. I told you it was cool.”

  She pursed her lips, clearly not believing me.

  I reached across the table and grazed my fingers against her chin. She looked up at me with those pretty blue eyes that had become my weakness.

  Once I had her attention I let my fingers drop and pointed at the window beside our booth.

  “See that place there?” I pointed across the street at some store that housed a whole heck of a lot of outdoor sculptures—including a giant white stallion reared back with its dick showing. “You certainly don’t see that every day.”

  She let out a twinkling giggle. “Yeah, yeah,” she nodded, “you’re right. I’ll stop apologizing.”

  “Good.” I nodded. “And Willow?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Let yourself relax. You’re the one that wanted to go on a road trip, remember? Stop overthinking and let yourself enjoy it. This is you and me. We can do anything. Nothing bad will happen. Besides, when have you let that stop you from doing anything?”

  She grinned at that, and I wondered if she was remembering the same thing I was.

  I hadn’t been there, but the whole town had heard when Willow decided to go swimming in the fountain in the hotel lobby where her prom was held. I’d thought it was hilarious, but I was the only one.

  Most people called Willow irresponsible.

  I called her lively.

  Our food was brought to us and we grew quiet.

  Eventually, Willow said, “You’re right.”

  “’Bout wha?” I asked around a mouthful of food. Swallowing, I added, “I’m right about most things.”

  “Don’t gloat,” she rolled her eyes, fighting a smile, “but you’re right. I’ve never let fear stop me from living my life before. Why am I doing it now?”

  I shrugged and shoveled a forkful of food into my mou
th. “I don’t know.”

  “I want to do something crazy while we’re on this trip.” She nibbled on a piece of bacon.

  “Like what?” I prompted, chewing on a piece of toast.

  “Swim with sharks.”

  I choked on the bread. “That’s the first thing your brain goes to?”

  “Well, I went skydiving for my eighteenth birthday,” she shrugged.

  “So, of course the natural escalation is to swim with sharks.”

  She shrugged innocently. “Why? Are you afraid?”

  “Well, yeah,” I admitted. “They have sharp teeth that can tear me apart within a second.”

  She grinned and snapped her teeth together. “I have sharp teeth and you’re not afraid of me.”

  “I’ll…I’ll think about it, okay?”

  “Sure.” She smiled, already knowing that I would inevitably cave because I’d do whatever it took to make that girl happy.

  We finished our lunch and I paid again, much to her dismay, but instead of getting back on the road I convinced her to explore the store across the street.

  We stood in front of the restaurant, waiting for traffic to clear so we could cross the street.

  Once it cleared we jogged across.

  There were gargoyles and gnomes galore, and the stallion of course.

  “Oh my God! Dean! Look!” Willow pointed up, laughing hysterically.

  I tilted my head back enough to see some sort of Ferris wheel contraption with stuffed animals strapped to the seats as it went round and round. It was fairly large, not the size of a real one, obviously, but big enough to be an obnoxious eyesore in someone’s yard if some crazy psycho bought it.

  “I would totally buy that.” Willow grinned.

  I hung my head. Willow would be crazy enough to buy it.

  I shoved my hands in the pockets of my jeans and nodded towards the building that had been hidden across the street by all the crap. “Let’s check it out.”

  Willow skipped ahead of me and breezed inside. A second later she poked her head back out and said, “Hurry up slow poke!”

  I ducked my head, hiding my smile, and strode inside.

  The building was an even bigger clusterfuck of random junk.

  It kind of looked like a yard sale threw up in here.

  “Dean!” Willow called from somewhere in the large building.