Waiting For Us [COMPLETED]

chapter 30 - the journey

Talia:

"Gosh darn-it, Talia. What kind of shit did you pack?" Jess asks as she struggles to lift my duffle bag out of the trunk of our car.

The sun is low in the sky and casts long shadows across the school parking lot. Surprisingly, we arrived early, something that only happens once in a blue moon. Other seniors around us are pulling out their bag as well, making their way to the bus circle where we will be shipped off to New York City.

Both Jess and I said goodbye to our dad with a hug. He said he loves us and to be safe. His sudden expressions of vocal and physical affections surprised us, but we chose to accept it as a positive change. I doubt that positive change will be occurring with our mom anytime soon.

"I only packed the essentials," I respond. The essentials include seven different shirts, one dress, five pairs of pants, an interesting amount of underwear and socks, and three different pairs of shoes. That's also excluding all toiletries.

Jess grunts when she finally swings the bag onto the ground. She insisted she would get it out and is not one to back out when things get hard. "I'm managing your packing from now on, my dear sister."

I roll my eyes and pull my bag closer to me so she can remove her own. I'll admit, it's a little heavy. Maybe I should have thought this through, considering it's my job to carry my bag around.

"Hi, lovelies," Quinn beams, appearing next to us, her own bag being dragged along in tow. Quinn smiles and gestures to her outfit—black sweatpants and a black sweatshirt with a sunflower embroidered over her heart. "Look, I'm wearing my comfy outfit."

"Mhm, I see," Jess says, sidling up next to her girlfriend. She leans down and whispers something in her ear, and by the way Quinn flushes red, I know it is something I definitely do not want to hear. I hope they realize they're sharing a room with me on this trip. And Cassie. "Let's go to check-ins now. I want dibs on the back of the bus."

I try to swing my bag up on my shoulder, but it slides back down from being too heavy. Three pairs of shoes was probably a bad idea. As I struggle to lift the bag one foot off of the ground, it suddenly floats into the air like magic. Well, not exactly magic; unless you want to call Grayson's arm strength that, which, right now, seems appropriate.

"I got it," he says, effortlessly carrying my bag as well as his. I should have invested in a strong boyfriend a long time ago.

I used to hate the idea because I though it was cheesy, but a couple work-out session is not sounding all too bad. Grayson needs to pump some muscle into me. Wait—no, that came out wrong. Oh, my God, now I'm thinking the wrong thoughts completely. I mean...they're not the worst thoughts I've ever had. What I meant was, Grayson needs to help me build some muscle. Nothing else. Certainly not anything sexual.

"Thanks," I say.

From the awkward silence that follows, I can tell we're still testing out the boyfriend-girlfriend waters. The testing, as I put it, doesn't happen often, but when it does, I wish it didn't exist. We both care about each other's feeling so much, we're afraid to hurt them if we make the wrong move. It's like a strategic dance of who's going to make the first move.