Once Upon a Road Trip (2 page)

“Watch it, Freak Show!” Mindy barked out, indignant.

“Oh, that was original,” Elsie said, with an effortlessness that came from years of practice. “But hey, a lack of imagination ought to come in handy for that ambitious fast food career you have ahead of you.”

“Easy—you just insulted the service industry everywhere.” Angie murmured over her companion’s shoulder, though she made no real effort to keep from being heard. She was more concerned with catching Mindy and Sarah’s gaze with her hardened stare. Posturing stand-offs with this malevolent pair had been an almost daily occurrence since middle school. It was one of the many experiences she wasn’t going to miss.   

“You got a problem, fugly?” Sarah focused her hostility on Angie, her ample upper lip curving back into a scornful snarl. She squared her shoulders, flipping back the golden tassel of her graduation cap as she stepped forward in a blatant challenge.

Angie held her ground. “Just you,” she answered, feeling too drained to scrape up a witty retort. She hoped Sarah would interpret her tone as either boredom or arrogance — neither of which could be mistaken for a sign of weakness.

To some extent, Angie knew she’d brought this kind of attention on herself. Functioning as more of a drifter than an actual part of the high school social strata, her conviction to root for the underdog had led her to befriend the most poorly-integrated of her peers. Or, as her mother liked to put it, “collect strays.” Although, when it came to friends like Elsie, it was less of a collection and more of a Misfit Protection Program.

Sarah’s wolfish gaze snapped aside to Elsie. “And what the hell is -that- supposed to be? Couldn’t wait for Halloween?” She extended a finger to indicate Elsie’s ornate dress.

Elsie, in a rare moment, seemed at a loss for words.

“That... is more culture than you’ll probably ever see again.” Angie cut in, mimicking Sarah’s tone. “Don’t you have other places to be…people to torment…small animals to sacrifice?” She leaned forward in emphasis. Her heart rate picked up tempo, readying her for a quick reaction on the off-chance the clash turned physical. Now that there was no risk of expulsion, she couldn’t be sure how far beyond covert shoving and tripping the girl might go.

As their followers began edging around them in a subtle sort of urging, Mindy was the first to back down. Muttering an obscenity the blonde snorted, turned on her heel, and marched off in the direction of the gym. Sarah gave a snort and turned away.

Anticlimactic as ever
, Angie mused.

“That’s right—be gone! Before someone drops a house on you!” Elsie jeered, fluttering her hands in a shooing motion before Angie could prod her into moving along. Fortunately, none of their opposition seemed to understand the reference. After a few more disdainful looks and crude insults, the pack moved on as one.

Angie used her hold on Elsie’s shoulder to steer the girl toward the parking lot before any more unpleasantries were exchanged. She refused to allow the minor incident to dampen her sense of relief. As far as she was concerned, she’d just walked off the set of a really bad teen movie and into the rest of her life.

“Ah,” Elsie sighed with an air of refreshment. “What’ll I ever do without them? My senior year is starting to look really boring.”

“Good. It’s not like I’m going to be around for it,” Angie reminded her.

“You know you love me,” Elsie said, latching onto Angie’s arm in a clamorously exaggerated hug.

“Ugh. Get off.” Angie gave her arm a shake, and then pried her friend from her.

Elsie relented with a cackle, only to bolt for the passenger side door of Angie’s aging sedan. “Shotgun!”

Angie shook her head, lacking the energy to engage in a futile discussion about how unnecessary it was for Elsie to call shotgun when she had no competition. Any other day, she might have humored her. “I’m not up for an overnighter. I think I might need to go to the doctor tomorrow,” she said as she opened her door and slid into the driver’s seat.

“Still not feeling too sporty?” Elsie asked, quick to secure her seat belt. She made a show of hooking a hand through the grip bar that was secured to the ceiling just above her window, which she affectionately referred to as the “oh crap” handle.

“You know, you probably got it from me. Every time I go to the doctor I test positive for all sorts of fun things. Strep, shingles, mono…malaria. But I don’t actually get the symptoms—they say I’m just a carrier. Like a plague rat.”

“Fan-freaking-tastic.” Angie released a melancholy sigh, rapping her fingers against the steering wheel several times before starting up the car.

Elsie gave her a sugary smile. “I know. God broke the mold when He made me.”

“You sure He didn’t drop the mold -while- He was making you?” Angie narrowed her eyes at her friend. With a glance over her shoulder, she put the car in reverse and whipped out of the parking spot. The sudden action elicited a nervous squeak out of Elsie, effectively putting her on her best behavior for the remainder of the drive.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In this particular town there were only two places that stayed open after nine o’clock at night, aside from the bars: Wal-Mart, and Gerkin’s. The latter was an all night diner which catered to a variety of patrons. It sat along the main interstate that cut through the town, making it a favorite of truckers. If one happened to be underage and preferred to be sitting down while loitering, this drab little establishment was the place to be.

Angie and Elsie claimed their usual booth in the back corner and were promptly greeted by Cliff, the night manager. Cliff was a tall, thin young man with a pasty complexion and dark hair, which he kept meticulously slicked back. His acrid sense of humor was a source of much banter for Elsie, with Angie enjoying the exchanges nearly as much. Knowing them as regulars, he had their hot teas and plate of French fries marked down before they could ask.

As a counterbalance to ordering very little and staying entirely too long, they always made a point of tipping him well. Although, whether or not he allowed Elsie to best him in their verbal sparring matches often determined whether or not his tip would be awarded to him in the form of masses of loose change. 

The two spent the next few hours discussing an art show Elsie had planned for later in the summer, with a  random smattering of obscure topics inserted as her attention span waned.

Angie had absorbed a great deal from Elsie since they’d met in middle school, most of which resulting in her familiarity with the world of the nondescript geek. Their cache of shared interests included comic books, video games, Japanese cartoons, replica weaponry, and role play. It was a safer, less judgmental world, where the inhabitants were more sensitive and creative, if not socially impaired to varying degrees. Most of the time, the ineptitude could pass as an endearing quality. Particularly to Angie, who preferred it to the backstabbing and manipulation that seemed to be the primary teenage-girl alternative.

Graduation had cut the last tie she had to the suffocating version of reality that high school represented. She should have been giddy over her new-found freedom, but an array of unknowns continued to loom over her.

“You get any news on your Air Force guy?” Elsie deviated at last. For the most part, she shied away from any meaningful conversation. But when she did bother with it, she could be astute.

Angie peered down at her mug of tea, having lost count of how many times she’d refilled it. “It’s sounding like I won’t get to meet Don at the end of the trip like we were planning. They put a Stop Loss on his unit. He’s supposed to let me know for sure in the next few days, but unless he can get an honorable discharge, they’re going to keep him for three extra months.” She was sulking now, and she allowed the fact to slip into her voice.

To anyone else, it would sound naive of her to have become attached to someone she had yet to meet in person. She’d come across Don the same way she had most of the others she intended on meeting on her fast approaching road trip: through a text-based writing community. A favored hobby from the age of fifteen, she had Elsie to thank for introducing her to the pastime. There she had been free to create and share stories. What’s more, she felt closer to some of her online peers than she did to the friends she saw on a daily basis.

Don had been among these online friends, and after the September 11
attacks, she’d discovered the twenty-two-year-old was also an Air Force serviceman stationed in Germany. They began having phone conversations, and she quickly became infatuated with his soft-spoken Arkansas accent. Hopeful over the sense of connection between them, they’d made plans to meet once his service contract was up at the end of the summer. News of the Stop Loss had depressed them both and dashed her fragile hopes.

“I should have taken his offer to fly me to Germany,” Angie said in lament. “Now I’ll probably never get to meet him.”

“Well, you know, it might be for the best.” Elsie fidgeted, picking at a rip in the worn booth cushion. Offering comfort had never been one of her strong suits. “Maybe it wouldn’t have worked out. You said he can be kind of moody, and you aren’t exactly Little Miss Sunshine yourself. Who knows, you might hit it off with somebody while you’re on your trip—” 

Angie raised a hand to stop her friend’s reassurances. “I’m -not- looking to start some desperate long-distance relationship. And besides, I’ll have plenty of other things to worry about while I’m traveling.”

“Like...staying alive?” Elsie’s lips curled back in a light smirk. “I wish I could go with you. You’re crazy, though—and this is coming from me.” She quirked a questioning eyebrow. “I mean, I know how boring this town is, but aren’t you overcompensating just a little?”

“Yeah, probably. I can’t seem to talk myself out of it, though. I have to go through with it.” Angie managed a tight smile. “Assuming my mom doesn’t carry out her threat to sedate me before I get the chance.”

Elsie giggled outright. “Can’t blame her. My mom would crap a brick.” She sipped at the remainder of her tea. “I mean, you’ve only met two of these people you’re going to be staying with. Well…and one’s my cousin—I guess he doesn’t count. So that leaves how many?”

“Seven others,” Angie answered matter-of-factly. “Yeah, I suppose it does sound pretty…out there. But I checked them all out, just to be safe. And I know I’ll regret it if I don’t go. I’ve only got one semester left before I’ll have my associates degree and...then what?”

“What do you mean, ‘then what?’” Elsie asked, wringing her tea bag into her cup after draining the last of its contents. “You’ve been taking college courses for like two years now, and you just graduated high school. I’d be grateful to be that far ahead of the game.” 

“I know, but I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with myself. I don’t know what I want—” Angie cut herself short, realizing she was starting to whine. She didn’t have any right to complain, and she didn’t expect her friend to comprehend the upwelling of uncertainty that seized her every time she tried to envision her future. It was all she could do not to turn and run every time someone innocently asked what her major would be. She had yet to decide if the road trip was her way of running away from destiny, or headlong into it.

Finding the hot water pot empty, Elsie reached across the table for Angie’s mug.

Angie yanked her cup toward herself, sloshing a few drops of its lukewarm contents over the rim and across her knuckles. “Negative, Typhoid Mary.” She leered in scolding. “You lost your sharing privileges. Flag down Cliff if you want more.”

Elsie gave a dramatic sigh. “Where is that greasy weasel, anyway?” Defying common discretion, she brought two fingers to her mouth to create a shrill, beckoning whistle. It was late enough that few of the other patrons spared her a glance. Within seconds, Cliff came jogging back from behind the front counter.

“Ladies...anything else I can get you this evening?” He waggled his eyebrows at Angie and deepened his voice in jest. “My phone number, perhaps?”

“More hot water, please.” Angie offered a faint smile as she held up the hotpot. All in good fun or not, flirtation had always been a concept that threw her off. She wasn’t sure if she should view it as a tacky display of guile, or as a legitimate skill she simply had no knack for. Either way, she was certain her ignorance in that area had contributed to her state of perpetual singleness.

“Yeah, I bet you’ve got a nice bachelor pad set up in the dumpster out back.”  Elsie resumed her verbal jabbing. “Must be convenient, being able to walk to work.”

“Oh yes, it’s got plenty of glamorous perks.” Cliff quipped back in his typical dry, sardonic tone. “This morning I scraped together a full breakfast -and- I found a perfectly good shoe. Jackpot.” He accepted the container and swiveled on his heels before marching back toward the kitchen.

Elsie looked back toward Angie and grinned. “Too bad Cliff isn’t your type. I don’t think he’d need much encouragement.”

Angie shifted uncomfortably. “I’m pretty sure Cliff hits on everything that moves. You just make it harder for him, what with all of the conversational castrating.” She paused with her mug halfway to her lips, considering a moment before venturing to ask, “So, what exactly is my ‘type? ‘” She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer, but she needed a distraction from the sense of gloom that seemed amplified by whatever was ailing her.

Elsie cleared her throat and splayed her hands across the table as though she’d prepared an important announcement. “Beefcake Philosopher,” she said at last, deadpan.

Angie gauged her friend with caution. “Explain.”

“See, I’ve actually given this some thought. Me, I like ‘em smart and skinny, with minimal sun exposure. You like the big, strong, manly sort, but you won’t give them a second look if they don’t have brains. And those are hard to come by. Not that it’s a bad thing. There have to be a few of those out there that fit the rest of your criteria. …probably.”

Angie rubbed two fingers against each temple, absently noting how warm her forehead felt to the touch. She would definitely have to get checked out in the morning. “So, you’re saying I’m looking for a smart, tough-guy who can meet my standards without resenting it. Oh, and who’d actually be willing to put up with somebody like me.”