The Guilt Trip [slow updates]

[6] Ditchin' A Ride

Wade was up before the sun. His back was stiff and ached from a night spent on the car roof, but since he had chosen to sleep there he decided not to complain. He rolled up his sleeping bag and did a few stretches, then sprinted around the parking lot to limber up for their long drive to the border. When he got his morning exercises out of the way, he inspected the vehicle for any signs of wear that required immediate attention. Not finding any on the exterior, he popped the hood to check out the engine and everything else. Aside from being low on windshield wiper fluid, everything seemed to be in shape. Pleased, Wade slammed the hood shut with gusto, not thinking that it would awaken Skipper.

   "What the heck are you doing?!" she demanded groggily, leaning her rumpled self out the window to glare at him. He smirked, dusting off his hands.

   "Waking you up, apparently."

   "Why so early?" she whined, pulling herself back in and flopping against her seat, rubbing her tired eyes. Wade smirked and walked around the car to take his place in the driver's seat, glancing over his shoulder to see that Charles was still blissfully at rest. He was completely dismissing Skipper's complaints, and he knew it.

   Skipper grabbed her travel blanket and pulled it over her head.

   "You should probably hit the restroom before we go," Wade pointed out.

   "Hit it with what? Your face?" she retorted, voice muffled by the blanket.

   "Just go freshen up," Wade rolled his eyes. "We have a long drive ahead of us."

   "Oh, I didn't realize that," spat the girl, lurching into a sitting position and flipping the blanket aside. Grabbing her backpack and purse, she heaved the door open and crossed the rest stop parking lot; the small building housing restrooms and showers was her destination. When she got there, she found herself a stall and began her morning grooming. The hot water felt good on her skin, as it was still chilly and dark outside. Steam built up and enveloped her, and she shut her eyes peacefully. Annoyed as she was that Wade had gotten her up before the sun, Skipper was happy to have a chance to clean up.

   Skipper was using her college tuition to pay for this trip, as well as some of the inheritance her mother had left behind. Travel expenses and Wade's rates would add up quickly, so they were trying to avoid hotels for the sake of saving money, opting instead for rest stops and the occasional camp site.

   Upon finishing her shower, she wrung her long purple hair out and twisted it into a bun on top of her head. It was sure to get hot again once the sun rose, and having damp hair would be advantageous if Wade chose to roll the windows down.

   Hair out of the way, she threw on a fresh set of clothes and packed her things back up, using the restroom before returning to the SUV where Wade was waiting, seated on the hood.

   "Took you long enough. Wow, your face looks really dead without makeup."

   "Shut up," she snapped as she got back into her seat and slammed the door. The sun was peering over the horizon now, and it wouldn't be long before it graced the Arizona landscape with its intense heat. Skipper donned her sunglasses against its glare and readjusted her seat so it wasn't serving as a bed anymore. Paired with her groggy expression, the sunglasses only served to make her look more grouchy and formidable.

   "We should launder our clothes before leaving the US," she stated, pulling out a nail file. Wade blinked.

   "Um... Okay? You'd rather do laundry than get breakfast?"

   "I'm currently not very hungry, thanks to you," she scowled.

   "Yeah, you sound like you want McDonald's," Wade rolled his eyes. "I'll leave you to the laundry and pick you up when I'm finished getting breakfast for myself."

Skipper narrowed her eyes in all seriousness. "That seems a little suspicious. You're not just gonna ditch me, are you?"

"I'm not a man of empty threats..."

"Alright, that does it. You're fired. I will waste precious time I don't have , trying to find myself a new driver who's willing to take me across the world!" Gathering her things, Skipper began to exit the vehicle. Wade reached over and grabbed the door handle to stop her.

"It was hard enough convincing me to do this," he reasoned. "I doubt there are many others who would jump at the chance."

"How would you know?" She scoffed. "You don't have a life."

He casually ignored this statement and held the door against her struggling. She kept elbowing him and it was putting undue strain on his shoulder.

"You're too close," she snarled.

"I wouldn't be if you'd just stay put. Don't make me engage child's lock."

"Holding me against my will! How dare you!"

"Quit being a brat and go back to sleep, Chubs. I'll do the laundry and get breakfast." Releasing the door, he quickly started the vehicle and buckled his seatbelt.

"Do not call me Chubs!" Skipper tried to escape but the doors had locked, and in her groggy state she didn't think to manually unlock them herself. Slumping defeatedly against the window, she buckled her own seatbelt and refused to look anywhere except through the glass.

"Whatever you say, Chubs." Wade turned on the radio and fiddled with the stations. "What kind of trash do you listen to when you're having a bad morning?"

Silence. Skipper was determined to ignore him now. She'd pulled the blanket over her head again and was doing her best to go back to sleep. Wade kept flipping through stations, finally settling on his favorite one and keeping the volume lower than usual. He didn't feel like dying today.

"Turn that off," Skipper finally complained, peering out of her blanket. Whiny male singers were absolutely not her cup of tea.

"No. I asked what you like to listen to. You didn't answer, therefore you missed your opportunity to choose."

"Nothing's stopping me from changing the station."

"Oh yeah? Try me." Wade smirked encouragingly. Skipper reached her hand out to push the buttons, and he swatted it away.

"Ow! You're so abusive!" She hissed. "Don't forget I'm paying you!"

"Doesn't mean you can touch my radio," he retorted, cranking the volume. Seething, she hid under the blanket again and clapped her hands over her ears. She could still hear the very intense opening riff of whatever noise session was playing, and Wade was tapping his fingers on the wheel to the throbbing beat.

They were on one of the main highways now, driving toward laundry services and food. As the minutes passed, it seemed Wade slowly turned down the volume. Finally, he asked her again: "What would you listen to if it were your radio?"

"Classical," she muttered.

"Groovy." He did not hesitate to switch to a classical station, and the vehicle was filled with a beautiful symphony. Skipper relaxed, and the two continued to ride in silence as the music soared on.

"You're sucking up to me," she said as the realization hit her.

"Nah, I just didn't feel like dying today," Wade denied, getting into the exit lane and pulling into a McDonald's parking lot. "Drive thru or eat in?"

"Drive thru. You're embarrassing." She was looking away, though, so he couldn't see the triumphant smirk on her face.