Where It Leads Us

Chapter Fifty-nine

I left my car parked in front of their home and waited for her. I raised my wrist to look at my watch, and it was already seven o'clock in the morning. I drank from my thermos flask, which I had taken with me and filled with freshly brewed coffee before leaving the house.

Mid-Winter Break officially began yesterday, so we figured today would be the best day to take that road trip.

Although we haven't talked about the note in a while and we haven't traveled throughout California for it, I kind of missed the sense of needing to go once again.

Ever since my dad returned to his office, his schedule has been busier. I don't see him much during the mornings and afternoons. Only at midnight would I catch him typing on his laptop in the living room, still working on some files instead of getting some sleep.

I could not just interfere with the way he handles this case, as much as I wanted to do, since I understood how much his work meant to him and how much this case meant to Lauren and her family.

Their front door almost immediately opened as I shifted my head to the side. I watch Lauren trot towards the car while she waves at me, smiling back at her. I was waiting for her to buckle up as she got inside, and I was nearly surprised when she gave me a quick peck on the cheek after greeting me with a good morning.

I almost instantly cleared my throat as I felt the heat rising from my neck as a result of what she did.

"Want some coffee?" I offered her my thermos flask and she shake her head, smiling at me.

"I'm all good," She says, "As much as I can, I try to avoid drinking coffee."

I pressed my foot on the gas pedal and began to drive, turning my face back to the front with my brows furrowed. When did that ever happen? I shrugged off the question in my mind as it didn't bother me much.

"Now, off to our first venture," I said as I spared her a glance, beaming a smile at her due to my excitement, "Malibu!"

She looks at me with a smile as I take her hand and intertwined it with mine while holding onto the steering wheel with the other.

"I can't wait for this to be over," She sighs as I took another glance at her, seeing her watching the scenery outside her window.

I turned my attention back to the road as the smile on my face started to wane in response to what she said, feeling and hiding my selfishness because of the want of this not being over just yet.

❀

On the way to Malibu, we made a pit stop to fill the tank up while Lauren went to the shop for some snacks. If we didn't need to eat a proper meal, it would be simpler to munch while driving rather than stopping every time.

The drive to Malibu wasn't killing my feet and butt cheeks since it was just almost a 2-hour drive away. After filling up the tank with gas and waiting for Lauren, we immediately proceeded with our trip while Lauren feeds me some twinkies.

Today's weather was nice. The clouds resembled puffs of dazzling joy that were about to float away in the breeze. As I drove, I observed them as they dwindled and swirled with the sky, until all that was left was the ordinary sky's ideal baby-blue color.

"You know, I started sketching again," Lauren says in between chews. I could hear the crunchiness of the food she was chewing inside her mouth as I looked at her, almost laughing at the sight of how messy her face looked.

I smiled at her as she continues, "I can't wait to paint again. I feel like, after this trip, I'll paint for hours until my mind is depleted of creativity and energy."

She chuckles to herself as I asked her, "May I ask what made you stop?" I spare a glance at her as the expression on her face didn't change. She nods her head and says,

"Ever since my mom died, I lost touch with my creative self. Even before that, I think it was somewhat fading when Elise died, too," She says as I listen to her intently, "I tried to paint again after she passed but my thoughts were too clouded with... grief over what happened and I couldn't find the energy to just pick up a brush or a pencil, even though I knew that I wanted to."

I could feel her gaze on me as I focused my attention on the road ahead of us, "You know that feeling where you force yourself to do something just to alleviate the pain or simply just to distract yourself from whatever you are feeling?"

I nodded my head, still not looking at her. I bite my lower lip as she continues to speak.

"When it came to sketching or painting, I relied on that. Instead of allowing myself to sit with my feelings as most people would, I saw it as a method to escape from those feelings. And I came to the conclusion that my solution wasn't what I wanted. I didn't like that I just used one of my passions to mask the rest of who I really was just because I was afraid of sitting with my feelings."

I finally turn my head to look at her as she continues to smile, "That's why I stopped painting. I promised myself that I'll only paint again if I feel the want to do it out of pure passion and not a tool for escaping my deeper self."

Lauren turns her head, catching my attention briefly before I turned my attention back to the road. Since the first day I met her, I have noticed that she still has that pain in her eyes that doesn't seem to go away, even when she tries to put a smile on her face.

"What about you?" Lauren shifts the topic, "I'm curious what got you into writing."

I remember the time she read the notebook filled with poems that I wrote which I always brought with me inside my school bag. Now that I thought about it, it's been a while since I've written something. I've been preoccupied with other things that I failed and forgot to reconnect with my creative self the way she did. I kind of envy her now.

"I think I got it from my mom," I told her as she nods her head and decided to continue talking since she seemed to want to know more, "She used to be an English teacher and she loved writing poetry. I decided to try writing, too, and that's when I found out that I love doing the same thing she does."

It was a brief story that no one has really bothered to ask me before, until today. A part of me actually missed going to poetry slam nights at random coffee shops all over town. I wonder if I should do that again, soon, once this note-retrieving trip ends.

"I also got my passion from my mom," Lauren says, "Do you think you'll ever become an English teacher like your mom, too?"

I thought about it before I find myself chuckling and shaking my head as she asks me why "I'm not really sure what I want to be yet."

All I can think about right now is where I am now; where we are now. Wherever the future may lead me, I know I'll find its path soon. I just hope that on that path, she's with me.

***