"So...Mom, can we talk?" I asked the next morning. It was Saturday and the whole Travis thing had only just happened yesterday.
"Sure, what's up?" Mom said.
"Well, it's nothing right-not that I know of-I don't really know. You know what, maybe I should just get more clarity and then I'll talk to you. Kay?" I mumbled.
"First, of all, stop mumbling. Second, tell me what's up. I'm your mother. As long as you didn't burn down some building and the cops aren't gonna walk up to the door any second I promise I won't kill you," Mom said.
"You would kill me if I burnt a building?" I asked.
"Stop procrastinating. Tell. Me," Mom pressed. My phone buzzed. I glanced at it, hoping it was him, but also hoping it wasn't. It was him.
Travis: Hey, we still on for popcorn and hot chocolate?
So clearly he's not thinking about last night anymore. But I was thankful Saturday popcorn was still an option. Since eighth grade the two of us would go to the park down the road every Saturday with pre-popped popcorn and hot thermoses of hot chocolate and stay there for a few hours. When we were younger, our parents would drive us. Then when we got our drivers license, we could finally take ourselves and talk about our own stuff without worrying about our parents looming behind every tree.
Our Saturday conversations as we call them can get pretty deep. I had confessed to him a lot and him to me. He told me about the panic attacks and depression he had been hiding from everyone on a Saturday and I told him about all my friend drama. I guess Travis' was a little deeper than my friend drama, but nonetheless, not having our parents eavesdropping made Saturday conversations so much more of a safe space. Major confessions were rare though. Most of the time it was dumb best friend talk.
I looked back at my mom, "Nevermind." I tried my best to look fine, but she still furrowed her eyebrows.
"Does this have something to do with Travis?" Mom asked. Damn. How did she do it?
"No," I squeaked and cursed myself.
"Uh-huh. Well, I will be waiting for this 'clarity' when you get home later," She with an ever so slight smile.
"Okay," I mutter.
"And stop mumbling," Mom hissed.
I went upstairs and checked the time. 11:00AM. He would pick me up at 12:00. I changed out of my pajamas that I always felt the need to wear all day and into a pair of black ankle length leggings and a flannel. The early September weather was still warm, but there was no way I was wearing shorts. There's a reason we drink hot chocolate.
I thought about wearing something nicer due to current events, but decided against it. That would make it too weird and this would seem like a date. It's not a date. It's Saturday conversations.
I put my hair in a ponytail and grabbed a bag to put the popcorn in. I supplied popcorn and he brought hot chocolate.
I put on sneakers and waited by the door, scrolling through my phone, fiddling with headphones and I tapped my volleyball between my two feet. Sometimes on Saturday conversations, we wouldn't even talk. Just sit and listen to music. Other times we played volleyball. We both play that sport and are addicted to it unhealthily.
I watched his truck pull into our driveway.
"I'm leaving!" I called to no one and went outside.
"Hey," I said when I got in the car.
"Hey," He said nervously, "Music?"
"Sure," I nodded. We both reached for the dial at the same time and our hands hit and they retracted as if they had just touched fire.
I looked away, an uncontrollable blush making its way across my face.
Gosh, why is this so awkward now, I thought. Travis turned the music to the country station and I thanked God in a short prayer Kiss Somebody didn't play.
Instead, we got Butterflies by Kasey Musgraves. Was the world out to get me? Because I'm pretty sure this song was the exact biography of what was happening in this car right now.
I started blushing deep red. I flaked out and quickly grabbed the dial and turned it, then retracted my hand just as fast. I turned it to anything, any station. I just couldn't listen to country music. I couldn't look at Travis. The new station was playing Hold My Girl by George Ezra. This is awful! I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying. I was so nervous and for some damn reason Travis looked cuter. His soft bronze curls moved slightly from the air coming through his cracked window and his face was full of color.
I reached out in a swift movement to change the dial again, but before I could change the station again, Travis caught my hand. He still didn't look at me, but he said slowly, "Carmen, it's okay." My stomach got all fluttery again.
He held my hand tightly, both of our hands slowly pulling away from the dial. It became a silent competition of who would let go first. Neither of us were backing down.
I blushed deeper. Why was this so easy yesterday? His hand was warm and comforting, and I bet mine was sweaty and clammy.
We stayed silent as the music played on. I was so happy. My heart fluttered just as fast as my stomach did. I could feel the tears that had been teasing me back down. I even felt the corner of my mouth perk up a tiny bit.
Now that doesn't mean I was relaxed. I was still a mess in my brain.
"We're here," Travis said.
"Oh. Already? I thought the drive was longer than that," I muttered. I could hear Emily's voice in my head.
"Chill, girl. The rambling isn't helping. It just makes you look like even more of a weirdo, dork." Duly noted. Thanks Em.
Travis pulled his hand from mine and opened his door. I sighed. I didn't want to be here yet. I wanted to stay in that car, holding his hand.
We walked down to our usual spot by the lake. In summer we go swimming here. I set a blanket down in case the grass was wet and I sat down next to Travis, but like, with three feet between us.
"Here," Travis passed me a thermos of hot chocolate and I smiled contently.
"I love chocolate," I say.
Travis laughs, "Trust me, I know. Where's the popcorn?"
"Here," I handed him a yellow Shoprite bag full of buttery popcorn packages I had microwaved before coming.
We sat in silence for a while, enjoying our food, but conversation began all too soon.
"We need to talk about it," Travis said.
"Do we really need to?" I asked.
"Yes, Carmen," Travis told me. I groaned and held my head in my hands.
"So, what then?" I asked.
"I don't actually know. It just....happened," Travis mumbled.
"Are we apologizing? Forgetting?" I asked.
"No, that's not something I can forget," Travis smirked.
"Ugh, shut up. But neither can I," I admitted.
"Well, what do you think?" Travis asked me. I shrugged, "I'm not sure."
"Well I'm gonna be transparent to you, Carmen. I like you. A lot. I have for a while. Last night was just a breaking point for me and I couldn't handle you being oblivious anymore."
"Sorry about that," I mumbled again.
"We decided we're not apologizing," Travis nudged me. Just his shoulder bumping mind sent chills up my arm and another blush built up.
"Throwing out ideas here, what if we went on a date. Learned more about each other," I suggested. Travis laughed.
"What?" I asked.
"We've basically been dating for four years," Travis laughed.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Look around you," He gestured his arms wildly, "We've been doing this since eighth grade. What more are we gonna learn about each other?"
He was right. Of course. He always is.
"True," I admitted, "So what are your ideas?"
"I have a few," Travis shrugged.
"Oh really?" I raised an eyebrow, "And just what might they be?"
"Well," He fingered a piece of my long blond hair, "We could do this for one idea." He leaned in and our lips met softly. I couldn't help but smile against his mouth like a total dork.
"That's an idea," I mumbled when we pulled away slowly, "Any others?"
"What do you say we dated. But, like more than this," Travis said.
"You mean like-"
"Yeah," He cut me off before I could get the words out, though I'm not quite sure I would have been able to if I'm being honest, "You've been my friend-who's-a-girl for a long time. You know," He got all cute and self conscious, "we could change the way the words line up."
"That's a good idea, Travis," I smile.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Kiss someone?"
"You?"
"Nah, just a random guy in a subway train."
"Shut up."
"Make me."
"Fine."
We kissed again. It was still slow and soft, but we weren't as unsure now. We were rooted down in confidence that we had something for sure.
"Travis," I muttered quietly through the kiss, "how on earth are we to tell our friends without being teased?"
"Well as you said yesterday, I think we can deal with it," Travis mumbled, then decided for the both of us we weren't talking anymore by deepening the kiss. After a few more moments, we pulled away.
"Now I have butterflies in my stomach, Travis."
"I love music," Travis laughed.
"Is it a music day?" I asked.
"Seeing as we have now basically defined our relationship on country music, definitely," He nodded. I took my phone out and plugged the headphones in. He took one ear bud and I took the other. We were careful not to rip the wire out of either one of our ears as he laid his back on the blanket and I rested the back of my head on his chest.
Greatest Love Story by LANCO played and we hummed along quietly, relaxing for the rest of Saturday conversations.
