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Authors: Angela N. Blount

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Psychology, #Interpersonal Relations

Once Upon a Road Trip (5 page)

BOOK: Once Upon a Road Trip
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“Oh, I can’t watch.” Claire pressed her pallid palms to her cheeks as she turned away. She began pacing up and down along the front walkway.

Angie folded her arms and leaned her shoulder into the corner of the building, gaze following Alec’s car as he worked his way through the lot. She focused, wishing she could help her friend through sheer force of will. “Please…keep him calm. You know he can do this,” she prayed under her breath. The car left her line of vision for several long moments as it wove through the farthest back portion of the lot.

It seemed like very little time had passed before the Dodge pulled back round to the front of the DMV. She couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad sign. When Alec got out of the car looking as straight-faced as his humorless examiner, disappointment began to prickle at the edge of her mind.

Claire managed to stay put until the man jotted something down and handed Alec a piece of paper. She then went rushing past the examiner in concern. “Alec?”

Angie pushed off from the building and trailed after her hostess, straining to read her friend’s expression — or the lack thereof.

“I passed!” Alec held out the paper to his mother while breaking into a sudden, triumphant smile.

“Thank you, Jesus!” Claire squealed, throwing her arms around her son’s neck. “You scamp, don’t do that to me!” she scolded with her next breath.

Angie covered her mouth to hide her laughter. She waited until Claire released him before stepping up to give Alec a congratulatory pat on the shoulder. “Well, now we have to celebrate,” she said, casting Claire a look of inquiry.

“Of course!” Claire agreed, the creases beside her eyes deepening with delight. “What would you like, Alec? Just name it.”

Alec seemed to shrink back from their shared exuberance. He looked down and then toward the car after his mother’s invitation. “How about…laser tag?”

Claire looked unimpressed. “But you’ve got a membership. You can play any time. Especially now that you can drive yourself—”

“I mean for both of us.” Alec looked to Angie indicatively.

“Sounds like fun.” Angie said, looking to his mother to weigh her approval.

“Well that’s fine,” Claire relented, looking pensive as she walked around to get into the car. “I just wish you’d think of something more...memorable.” 

“That’s all I can think of, Mom. Really,” Alec said, returning to the driver’s seat.

 

The laser tag arena was a short drive into Dayton. Angie found herself oddly relieved to see large buildings, rather than endless fields. She and Alec were dropped off in front of a sizable warehouse complex and given Claire’s estimate of an hour before her return.  

Inside, someone had gone to great pains to make the place look futuristic. The walls and ceiling were painted black, with small LED lights embedded at random. Bright, multicolored streaks blazed in all directions from behind a set of flat-panel screens mounted to the middle of one wall. The left panel displayed a flashing countdown sequence, while the right one showed the scores of the current game. Below, a chrome reception counter was manned by two bored looking youth wearing neon yellow vests. Beyond that, the lobby was walled off and set with two unassuming doors that Angie supposed must access the arena. She could hear the deep vibration of bass and the muffled beat of dramatic music coming from the other side.

“Wow. It’s…huge,” she said.

“You’re in for a treat.” Alec cast her a sidelong smile and headed over to the counter.

Angie hung back, waiting to see what would be required of her while Alec was fitted with a vest. Behind her she overheard another set of customers.

“Aww great. Looks like they’re gonna put us in there with the Michelin Man,” one of them complained to the other. “This won’t even be a challenge.” 

Angie bristled before she’d even finished processing the words, realizing they were likely in reference to Alec. She turned, fixing what she hoped was a neutral stare on the pair of young men who sat slumped on a bench.

Both were near her age, already wearing the sensor vests with Velcro attachments. One was short and scrawny, his forehead and cheeks showing the ravages of puberty — which he was only partially successful at hiding under the low bill of a black baseball cap. The other had a more burly, matured build, though his voice had a squeaky finish that told her it was still catching up to the rest of him. His corn-silk blond hair was just long enough to be unruly, and he met her stare with clear blue eyes. It occurred to her she might have found him cute, if he hadn’t opened his mouth. 

“What?!” The blond boy snapped at her in a dubious tone, after a long and uncomfortable moment. His voice proved him the culprit, and his posture confirmed that she’d understood his insult for what it was: malicious.

Heated indignation surged through her, and she clenched her fists to divert her energy into something physical. She barely resisted the urge to march up and kick him in the shin.

Instead she looked him up and down in one assessing sweep, curled her lip back, and then turned away in total disregard. She couldn’t think of a time she’d ever purposely displayed so much nonverbal disrespect. It struck her as a stereotypical, passive-aggressive “girl” thing to do. Realizing that, part of her regretted it immediately. But she’d already done it, and crossing the room to look into her own preparations seemed like the only follow-through. 

Behind her she heard the smaller of the young men make a cat-like yowling sound in commentary. The blond one answered him in a low mutter. Angie was grateful she didn’t overhear anything more.

She picked out a gun with a rifle-like shape to it. Glorified piece of plastic that it was, holding it made her feel better for some reason. It also gave her something to center on while they moved to wait outside of the left arena door. Their opposition eventually stood and waited in front of the far right door, and she managed to keep from sparing them a glance.

“You look…intense.” Alec sounded worried.

“Sorry, I’m just thinking.” Angie smiled, attempting to defuse his concern. “Do we need a strategy or something?”

“Shoot them, and try not to get shot in the process.” An amused look formed as he spoke. “First two rounds it’s us against them. Third round is a free-for-all.”

“Got it.”

 

For Angie, the games were over too quickly. They won the first round, and then filed out after the second round to view the accumulative scores. She placed second in the overall, and Alec came in third. Gauging the reactions of their opponents, she guessed the one wearing the baseball cap to be in first place. That meant the blond one had come in last — which was exactly where she thought he belonged. It gave her some small sense of satisfaction to think her relentless hunting of him in the previous hour may have affected the outcome.

“Huh,” Alec uttered under his breath as he looked from the score screen to Angie. “I guess I’m a little rusty. You sure you’ve never been to an arena before? You played like it was for keeps.”

“I’m just a little competitive sometimes.” She laughed, pretending not to notice when the other two young men stopped to stare at her. She imagined they thought she was strange — an overly aggressive girl with a knack for shooting games. But whatever they thought, it didn’t matter. She was never going to see them again. And that knowledge was liberating.

“Now that you can drive, you should get out here a couple times a week. That was great exercise,” Angie said as they made their way out of the front doors. She’d spoken before giving consideration to her choice of words. Chiding herself, she glanced over to catch Alec’s reaction. His half smile told her he wasn’t insulted.

“Yeah, and it’s a lot less boring than a walk around the neighborhood.”

Relief settle over her. He was more receptive than she’d given him credit for.

“Did you two have fun?” Claire’s cheery voice carried from where she stood waiting beside the car.

“It was great!” Angie called back.

“Great for her—she scored better than I did.”

“I never doubted her for a minute.” Claire winked at Angie. “Well, I did some shopping while I waited…” She reached behind her to pull open the back passenger door. In doing so, she displayed the glossy black and white Fender guitar that sat propped in the seat.

Alec gaped at the instrument for a moment before moving in for a closer look. “Is it…the one we looked at last week? You bought it?!” He looked from the guitar to his mother in disbelief.

“I did good, didn’t I?” Claire beamed, looking thoroughly pleased with herself. “You played with it so long, I could tell you liked it. And you needed a new one anyway. The one you practice on has duct tape holding the neck together, for heaven’s sake.”

Alec shifted from bewilderment to what Angie thought might be the start of a protest. “It’s perfect, mom. But can we afford—”

“You let me worry about that.” Claire waved a dismissive hand. “Today’s a special day.”

Alec smiled, shifting to give his mother a quick, grateful hug. “Thanks, mom.” When he hesitated beside the car, Angie guessed he was torn over leaving the instrument in the back seat.

“Don’t worry, I got it,” she promised, sliding in next to the guitar. To emphasize her point, she reached over and secured the seat belt around it. “But you owe me a recital.”

Alec gave an uneasy chuckle. “Alright…just don’t expect much.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Back at the house, Alec took to the couch with his new guitar. Though the small amplifier box he’d plugged it into looked ancient, the sound that rumbled forth was rich and lucid. He played through the bass portion of several old hymns at his mother’s request before Claire eventually migrated to the kitchen.

Angie asked Alec to play
Smoke On The Water
, which he transitioned into with ease. He’d obviously toyed with the song before. She smiled as she listened, unable to pick out any missed notes. Though Alec’s fingers were thick, they moved with nimble certainty. 

“See how long it takes you to guess this one.” Alec glanced up at her before playing the first few chords of
Crazy Train
.

Angie placed it within a few seconds and smiled at his choice. She hummed along with the melody as it progressed.

Alec ventured into the song with a strong vocal quality that his speaking voice hadn’t alluded to. Angie was both surprised and impressed. He was more musically talented than he’d let on. But the constant averting of his eyes told her he didn’t know what to do with the attention that naturally accompanied the skill. When Alec broke off into incoherent mumbling in place of actual lyrics, she doubled over in laughter.

“I never remember the rest,” he admitted, tapping at the side of his guitar with his thumb to elicit a light thumping sound.

“I don’t either. But if you put a slurring British accent on it, I don’t think most people would notice.” Angie laughed, grazing her fingertips over the back of the little gray cat that had appeared in her lap.

Alec plucked through several more melodies that Angie didn’t recognize. When Claire bid them goodnight, his gaze tracked her down the hallway. “So, you’ve got a little brother and sister, right? That must have been nice...growing up with somebody to talk to. I just have cousins, and they live a couple hours away.”

Angie guessed he’d been waiting for his mother to be out of earshot before bringing this up. She detected a sadness in his voice that she immediately wanted to dispel. “It was alright. We’re all pretty close together in age, so I think we competed with each other more than we kept each other company,” she said. “Sometimes I think it’s worse to feel alone when there -are- people around.”

Alec considered before nodding. “I guess that makes sense.” He continued to pluck at the strings, absently. “What about the school you went to? What was that like?”

Angie made every effort not to cringe. “Overrated. You didn’t miss anything there.” She tried to imagine Alec working his way through her high school, and a number of cruel scenarios came to her mind. “You know, I was almost homeschooled. My mom offered when I started junior high.”

“But you decided not to?”

“Yeah.” She reflected for a long moment as the cat in her lap leaned into her kneading fingers. “I think I was under the misguided impression that if I stayed in a regular school, I could make a difference. Do some good.”

Alec paused to glance up at her again. “You don’t think you did?”

She shook her head. “It was like…trying to swim against the current in a giant river of hormones, angst, and self-destructive tendencies. I could barely keep my own head above water, let alone help anybody else get through it. You know the old saying about the road to Hell being paved with good intentions? I actually understand that one now.” She forced a small laugh.

Alec rallied a soft smile. “You never know. Maybe you had more of an effect than you think.”

Angie shrugged, staring down at the blissful feline as it nuzzled her hand. “It wasn’t just that. I guess I thought that if I was homeschooled, I wouldn’t be as well prepared for the real world.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Alec said, his fingers stilled with his attention diverted. “For myself, I mean.”

“High school isn’t the real world. I figured that out when I started taking college classes,” she said, hoping to reassure him. “I think you’ll like college. It’s a good way to meet a lot of different people. I hung out with the exchange students and learned about their cultures, joined a few clubs—”

“Meet any guys you’re interested in?” Alec pressed on a teasing note.

“Well yeah, maybe,” Angie answered. She hadn’t expected him to ask such a bold question, but she was determined not to let that faze her candor. “But nothing mutual. It’s not like I’ve been on the prowl or anything, but I’ve seen enough to know the quality of college guys beats out high school guys. And I’m pretty sure that goes both ways. So, keep your eyes open.”

“Oh, well I don’t really see myself ever dating…or getting married.” Alec lowered his gaze to his guitar and his tone seemed to drop with it. “I’m actually okay with being alone. I’m pretty used to it.”

BOOK: Once Upon a Road Trip
7.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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