The Guilt Trip [slow updates]

[3] Pamplemousse And Punk Rock

A man with a freakishly high falsetto was whining along to some gritty guitars as Skipper came within proximity of the vehicle. Wade's seat was tilted back as far as it would go and his feet were on the steering wheel, windows down with his noisy music turned up loud enough for all the world to hear.

   Bearing a deadpan expression, Skipper grasped the handle of the passenger door and tugged. It was locked, and she could see laughter in Wade's green eyes. But the joke was on him, for he had the windows open. All she had to do was reach inside the vehicle and flip the lock switch.

   She managed to do so before he had the chance to roll the window up, because he was too busy expecting a reaction from her. Plopping into her seat, she reached over and pressed the radio, turning it off.

   "Hey!" Wade complained, "I like that song!"

   "Personally, I found it annoying," she retorted crisply, pulling a tall pink can from her bag.
  
   "Whatcha got there?"

   "Energy drink," she responded, cracking it open and taking a sip.

   "Pamplemousse? The heck?" Wade sputtered in confusion, reading the label on the can as she drank. Skipper snorted, liquid nearly spraying from her mouth and nose.

  "It's grapefruit, you idiot!" She cackled, setting the can in a cup holder and extracting the makeup remover wipes from the plastic bag at her feet. Wade sat there speechless and agape, staring at her as she got to work removing the terrible eyeliner.

   "You're seriously going to clean that off?"

   She blinked at him. "Of course I am. It's a hideous mistake. You even said so yourself."

   "Not sure I used that terminology, exactly, but sure. Whatever you wanna believe." Leaning forward, he switched the radio back on. The song she'd silenced just moments ago was still raging on, and when paired with Wade's triumphant smirk, it only served to grate on her nerves.

   Grimacing, she turned away so she wouldn't have to look at him and focused instead on the removal of her unfortunate makeup disaster. The wipes made removing the eyeliner easy, resistant as it was, and within moments she was able to rework her look. Wade, disappointed in the lack of reaction, cranked the music louder and jolted the vehicle into gear as he reversed from the parking space. Skipper maintained coordination and paused in her eyeliner application until they were smoothly cruising down the main roads. Hot Arizona winds puffed through the windows, cooling slightly as the vehicle gained momentum when Wade pulled onto the interstate.

   "Is it possible for you to change lanes without swerving?" Skipper demanded, nearly dropping her miniature mirror.

   "I'm not used to Arizona drivers, okay? That idiot nearly sideswiped me! Riding in my blind spot! What a douchebag."

   Charles's long, pink tongue snaked out to taste whatever was in the cupholders, and Skipper irritably slapped at it, not expecting the animal to taste her hand.

   "I should have hired a different Uber," she muttered, utterly disgruntled. Her makeup supplies were put away for the time being, and now she sat back with her feet on the dash and arms crossed stiffly. Wade put on his shades and said nothing, though his eyes briefly flicked to the left, darkened with traces of remorse. Skipper frowned and poked her tongue out; didn't want his pity. If he must feel sorry, he should feel so for himself and his pathetic life. Seriously, he had nothing to live for. He was nothing but an Uber who happened to have an unusual rescue pet, a bad attitude, and a rude sense of humor.

   "For the record, you didn't hire me. I volunteered. Now, according to my maps we're half an hour from Tovrea Castle. Would you like to stop there? It's a popular tourist sight."

   "I said I wanted to see the world, so take me there." She pointed ahead of them. "Onward!"

   Shaking his head, he turned the volume up a couple notches more, tapping on the steering wheel and humming to the tune that spasmed from the SUV's low-tier speakers. Skipper did her best to ignore the noise; she didn't favor his music tastes, and frankly could not understand why anyone would even consider this "music" anyway.

   "Why do you like that?" she questioned. "It's just a lot of noise."

   "It's not noise. It's punk rock. And I'm sorry, but in my vehicle, the driver is also the DJ. So if you've got a problem, I suggest you get behind the wheel, Princess."

   All she could do was stare and blink at him, aggravated by his attitude. He knew full well why she wasn't the one driving, and it was quite insensitive of him to acknowledge it as a joke.

   Oblivious to this fact, Wade reached for the volume knob and cranked the music. Skipper planted her palms over her ears and wondered why the heck she'd left her headphones at home. Charles continued to pester her and Wade began singing off-key, and she was seriously anticipating their arrival to Tovrea Castle. That half hour wasn't going to pass quickly enough.

   "Turn it down, please! Also, you're a horrible singer!" Skipper screamed. Eyebrows raised, he obeyed her and turned the volume down slightly, but only until the song was over. The volume slowly made its way up again after the station had run its course of commercials. Wade, of course, had heard several of these commercials frequently and mocked each one as it played. Skipper bit her lip and tried not to laugh. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

   "Would it kill you to smile?" Wade smirked as the final commercial ended and some heavy guitar riff blasted through the stereo. Skipper shrugged, staring out the window and ignoring him. His words seemed to fall on deaf ears, but in reality they had sunk deeper than he'd meant them to. The girl suddenly looked sad, and Wade found himself feeling immensely guilty.

"Hey—don't worry about it. I'm just teasing, y'know?" Now he was biting his lip. Skipper tossed a glance at him and nodded her understanding. As was becoming customary, Charles gave her a lick. Grimacing, she shoved at the creature and straightened her posture. "Are we there yet?"

   "Just about..." Wade pulled into a parking space and cut the engine. "I wonder if I could take Charles along if I keep him on his leash. He's kinda like a dog."

   Skipper just shook her head at him.