Love In Destin ✔

23 - strawberries & cigarettes

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𝑹𝒊𝒄𝒌

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A HOLLOW FEELING sits at the pit of my stomach as Mark enters the car. "We do this every year, yet your face never ceases to look like you're about to throw up," he chuckles, closing the door.

I pull down the mirror, and he's right. My face is red, and my eyes are languid and watery. Closing the mirror, I rub my eyes and exhale deeply.

"Don't worry, it hits me too," he sighs.

I pivot my head in his direction, finally out of my multitude of emotions and thoughts. He has his earphones hanging around his neck, as a white box of what I presume to be carrot cake is nestled in his lap of dark blue jeans, and he throws his jean jacket over to the back of the car.

"You got the cake?"

"Yeah, just the way Luke would like it. Mom's baking skills continue to amaze me. What did you get?"

"A painting I did at Charlotte's. I painted flowers. Luke loved flowers,"

"He did,"

We both suck in the silence while we stare out the window for a while. "Well, we better get going. We don't want to get back when it's too dark," he says, putting on his seatbelt. His voice pulls me out of my thoughts, yet again, I'm thankful for it. Scratching my head, I start the engine, and we're out of Mark's block.

Neither of us turns on the radio or plays music because we've always enjoyed the silence on this particular day toward this particular destination. It has allowed us to reminisce on our memories with our old friend. Luke loved camping and treasure hunting because they fueled him with the same spirit as his favorite hero, Indiana Jones. He hated the smell of coffee but enjoyed coffee-flavored ice cream, and how could either of us forget how much he was scared of spiders? A laugh tumbles out of me.

"What?" questions Mark.

"I was just thinking...how that one time we placed a fake spider on Luke's shoulder, he nearly peed his pants,"

Mark laughs, raking a hand through his thick brown hair of aged mahogany, rich and deep, which tumbles with each stride of the strands. However, while Mark's hair is just hair, Maya's hair brings warmth to her features, a simple frame for that smile and eyes that hold more love and exhilaration than I would ever admit. My brain journeys back to our argument and how I blew up at her. I shouldn't have done so; she must feel horrible, and she was only trying to help. No, the only reason you should feel bad is because she might not want to date you anymore, which could delay executing the dare.

"Hello, earth to Rick," Mark is snapping his fingers at me. "Dude, you good?"

"Yeah, I'm good,"

"By the way, I've a heard blonde-haired boy has not been leaving a certain girl who rides rollerskates alone?" He has a smirk on his face.

"Who'd told you that?"

"And this certain girl now wants your number?"

"She does?!"

"Woah! The way you turned your head so fast, you like her then?"

I start laughing, and my stomach flip-flops with relief at the thought that my hard work has not been going to waste after all. "Yes!" I slap my hand hard against the steering wheel as the joy squeezes my heart with ecstasy.

"Oh, so you do like her,"

"Probably,"

"You're living the movie life, my friend. Enemies to lovers much?" Mark has his smile for a moment before he continues, "I just can't help feeling upset at the fact that you don't share these things with me anymore,"