Jawbreaker ❆ Tom Kaulitz

[ 19 ] Are We There Yet?

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19. Are We There Yet?
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                Skeletal trees and snow-covered fields pass by, the seemingly endless drive stretching ahead of us. Saskia is at the wheel, and the silence between us is so thick you could cut it with the blades of our skates. I've somehow managed to end up in the passenger seat up front, and I can feel Alba's gaze periodically grazing over me from the backseat. Gustav, clearly the wiser one out of the four of us, seems immersed in whatever is playing through his headphones — a strategic move to avoid the mess that is Saskia and I.

The soft rhythmic hum of the engine is little to distract me away from the incessant tapping of Saskia's manicured fingertips against the white leather of the steering wheel. Apologising to her was like stepping on thin ice — a calculated move, but one wrong step could plunge me into icy waters. The apology still hangs between us, neither accepted or rejected; a fragile kind of truce... if you could call it that.

                I shift uncomfortably in the passenger seat, gauging the unpredictability of her moods. She's a landmine in every sense of the word, and navigating her anger requires a skill set that I've been struggling to learn for the many years I've known her for. But for the sake of Georg, as well as my own sanity, I'm doing my best to play nice this weekend.

"Should we play 'Never Have I Ever'?" Alba pipes up from the backseat, her voice as chipper as ever.

"Absolutely not," Comes Saskia's immediate reply, and I can't help but snicker quietly. "Is something funny?" She whips her head to the side to face me, one brow raised, before focusing her attention back towards the road.

"No," I respond quickly, shifting my own gaze away from her and towards the snow-draped roads. My fingers tap the inside of the door, unintentionally mirroring the tapping of Saskia's fingers against the steering wheel.

                I steal another glance at Saskia; her profile focused on the road, determination etched into her features. I can sense the underlying restlessness in the tapping of her fingers, a clear sign that she wants out of her own car just as badly as I do.

                The silence that engulfs the car is almost suffocating, the lack of music making my throat itch. In a meek effort to bring a little levity to the road trip, I decide to try my luck and speak up. "Maybe we could play some music," I suggest, gesturing towards the dashboard. Saskia's gaze flickers back to me, a hint of annoyance in her eyes. "Or not," I add quickly, slumping back down in my seat.

                She shrugs in response; neither a rejection or an endorsement, much like her response to my apologies as of late. Alba, sensing the discomfort, takes it upon herself to break the ice. She fumbles around for the aux cord for a moment in a bid to hook up her phone before finally succeeding. The sudden burst of music startles Saskia and she shoots a glare in my direction, as if I'm somehow responsible for it.

                Gustav maintains his blissful detachment even when the car's speakers come to life, still lost in his headphones. I'm jealous of him — and kicking myself internally for leaving my own headphones back at the dorm.