When We Were Young

XLVIII: sweet caroline

I roll down the window as we drive through a large expanse of farmland and green fields, enjoying the cool spring air fluttering on my face.

We've been in the car for two and a half hours now, nearing our destination.

I had originally volunteered to drive halfway, but Gray's look of terror was enough to make me reflect on my driving skills. It's not that I'm a bad driver by any means, I used to drive to school all the time in high school. However, I haven't touched the steering wheel over the past few months, so I'm not sure if I'd be able to drive three hours. Luckily for us, Gray drives to Toronto all the time, so at least there's one of us who I'm sure will get us to Hikesburg safely.

The soft sound of the Beatles' "Blackbird" plays in the background and I feel more relaxed in this moment than I have in a long, long time.

I begin humming to the familiar tune of the song, flashing back to the few years of guitar lessons that I took when my interest in music piqued in high school. Though I eventually got bored of the instrument, I still find my fingers imitating the picking of the song.

Before the song ends, we enter the city centre of Hikesburg.

It's nothing like Toronto or Montreal or even downtown Bartley. Most buildings look old and worn-down. We pass a few piercing shops and bars in the midst of many other stores that now look abandoned. Despite all this, the streets are still bustling with people, many of whom look like they're enjoying an evening walk.

The city centre cannot be longer than a kilometer because we soon arrive at our motel, right next to a large expanse of water.

Though the city was underwhelming, the water in front of where Gray is currently parking the car is not. It is the bluest lake I have ever seen, you can practically see all the way to the bottom even in the dimming light.

"So let's get checked in and then grab dinner?" Gray shuts off the car, slouching back as he finally gets to relax.

Feeling a bit bad that he solely drove here, I offer, "We can order in? Pizza maybe?"

He smiles at the thought, though his eyes are closed now. "I would like that."

With that, we exit the car and pull open the trunk where our duffel bags are stored. I am proud of myself for not overpacking this trip. I always overpack and end up embarrassingly not needed half the stuff I bring. This time, we're only staying for one night, so I really limited myself to bringing only what could fit inside this small gym bag.

Taking one last look at the water, I thank my past self for deciding to squish a swimsuit into the bag.

The receptionist is a sweet-looking teenage girl with dirty blonde hair and a bandana wrapped loosely around her head.

"Booking is under Wallace," Gray barely looks at the girl as he takes out his driver's license from his wallet. Realizing that his behaviour may be coming off as rude, he corrects himself, "Sorry, how are you doing?"

The girl seems unfazed and gladly accepts his card. "Not too shabby. Thank you."

She clicks a few times on her computer before reaching to a drawer underneath her desk, pulling out one key attached to a card.

"So you're in room 12. When you leave this area just walk towards your right and you'll have no problem finding it." She points to the card. "This is the wifi passcode and you'll need to show this tomorrow morning for breakfast as well."

Gray nods, thanking her before grabbing both of our bags.

He's about to leave, when I ask the receptionist, "So, the lake... are we able to swim in it?"

In my periphery, I see Gray raise his eyebrows at me.

"There's a beach, actually, maybe a hundred metres from here? Lots of people go swimming in the summertime, but it may be a little cold for that now."

"I'm sure we'll be fine." I look at Gray, who continues to look shocked.

"Did you bring a swimsuit?" he questions me.

I respond with a sly grin and he laughs. "Of course you did. Well, I didn't, so I guess I'll just watch you freeze your ass off in the lake."

"You're a guy. Just wear your boxers into the lake or something," I suggest, crossing my arms over my chest.

"That's not how it works." His arms cross over his own chest too.

"Literally that's all mens' swimwear is essentially."

He narrows his eyes. "Okay, so all womens' swimwear is essentially just a bra and panties, why don't you go swimming in that?"

"I would if I didn't have the mental excellence to think of bringing a swimsuit," I challenge him.

The receptionist giggles, reminding the two of us that she is still there, listening into our conversation. Instantly, I feel a little embarrassed for bickering with him in front of a stranger, but the look on her face tells me that she enjoyed it.

"You two are adorable," she exclaims, clasping her hands together. "My boyfriend and I are the exact same way."

"No, we're not--"

"He's not my--"

Gray and I look at each other, both talking over the other.

The girl now looks confused. "Sorry, you're married? You seem awfully young--"

"We're friends," I correct her.

"My apologies," she looks down, clearly feeling ashamed. "I shouldn't have assumed. Just the way you two were bantering and your room has a single bed, so I just thought--"

My eyes widen at Gray in a way that would be comedic in any other situation.

I know we've been sleeping in the same bed for the past while, but I didn't think he would be so direct like that.

My mouth hangs slightly open as I stutter at Gray, not sure what to say next.

"Don't worry about it," he reassures the receptionist. "Thanks for your help."

Cupping my elbow, he pulls me out of the small building acting as the lobby of the motel. My mind is whirring with the thought of what my reaction should be. Of course, I don't mind sleeping in the same bed as him, but it would've been nice if he said something to me before just booking it. I guess I'm a bit angry?

"What the heck, Gray?" I pull my arm away from him, finally finding my voice as we're walking towards the right of the lobby.

"Sorry, that was shitty of me. I... I wasn't even thinking." He doesn't meet my eyes. He pauses in the middle of the sidewalk. "If you want, we can ask for a room with separate beds. Or separate rooms completely, if that makes you more comfortable."

"No, it's not that," I tell him. "I'm fine with sharing a bed, but I wish you ran it by me."

We pick up our walking again. "I should've, I'm so sorry. I guess I sort of assumed since the past few nights..."

"Yeah..." I feel oddly uncomfortable with breaching the subject and I can tell he feels the same way. Our nightly sleepovers always happen, but they are never spoken about. "I was taken off guard, that's all. And if having somebody next to you when you sleep helps, then I'm more than happy to be that person."