The U-Haul is packed, and the car is loaded. We’re finally on our way, leaving our old life behind. Excitement buzzes in the air, but there’s a flutter of nerves beneath it all. We’ve been driving for a few hours when Nia starts fidgeting in her seat, clearly uncomfortable.
"I need to use the restroom," Nia says, her voice a mix of urgency and anxiety.
Mom pulls into the nearest gas station, and I take Nia's hand, guiding her out of the car. "Let’s go, Nia. It’ll be okay."
Inside the gas station, I grab a slushy from the machine, swirling it until it's a bright, icy mix of flavors. Nia heads straight for the bathroom, and I watch her go with a reassuring smile before heading over to the counter to pay.
As I’m finishing up, I notice a girl standing by the snack aisle. She’s dressed in a stylish outfit, a luxurious fur sweater that looks both glamorous and expensive. Her presence contrasts sharply with the typical gas station scene.
Curiosity gets the better of me, and I decide to introduce myself. I finish filling up my slushy and walk over, trying to muster up a friendly smile. But just as I’m about to speak, a worker, distracted and carrying a heavy load, stumbles and collides with me.
Before I can react, my slushy tips over and spills all over the girl’s fur sweater. The icy liquid soaks into the fabric, and I hear the distinct sound of splashing against her designer outfit.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” I exclaim, horrified. “I didn’t mean for that to happen!”
The girl turns, her face a mask of shock and annoyance. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Look at my sweater!”
I try to apologize again, my face flushed with embarrassment. “I really didn’t mean it. I was just trying to introduce myself—”
“Introduce yourself?” she interrupts, her voice dripping with disdain. “By ruining my clothes?”
“I didn’t—” I begin, but the girl’s attitude makes me hesitate. I can tell she’s not interested in hearing my apology.
A crowd starts to gather, and the tension in the air thickens. The worker who tripped over me is mumbling apologies, but it’s clear the damage is done. I feel my nerves fray further as the girl glares at me.
“This is ridiculous!” she snaps. “You should watch where you’re going!”
“I said I’m sorry!” I protest, feeling tears of frustration prick my eyes. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
The girl huffs and turns away, clearly done with the conversation. I stand there, feeling a mix of mortification and anger. I know it was an accident, but the girl’s attitude makes me wish I’d stayed in the car.
When Nia finally emerges from the bathroom, she looks up at me with concern. I try to put on a brave face as we head back to the car, but inside, I’m still reeling from the encounter.
As we drive away from the gas station, I feel a weight lift slightly, but the embarrassment of the incident lingers. I just hope that the rest of the trip will be smoother and that I’ll have better luck meeting people in Los Angeles.
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The drive resumes, and I settle back into my seat, trying to shake off the awkwardness from the gas station. Nia is quiet, her earlier nervousness replaced by a look of concern. Malik is absorbed in his music, seemingly oblivious to the drama that just unfolded.
“Everything okay?” Mom asks from the driver’s seat, her eyes flicking to me through the rearview mirror.
“Yeah, just... had a little mishap at the gas station,” I reply, forcing a smile. “But we’re good.”
Mom nods, her attention returning to the road. I can tell she’s trying to keep the mood light for all of us. We drive for a while longer, the landscape changing as we head further from our old home.
After a couple of hours, we pull into a rest area to stretch our legs and grab a quick snack. As we get out, I feel a mix of relief and exhaustion. The sun is setting, casting a warm glow over the rest area. The fresh air feels good, and I take a deep breath, trying to leave the stress of the earlier encounter behind.
Nia, now more relaxed, hops around excitedly. “Look at those picnic tables! Can we sit there and have a little break?”
“Sure,” Mom says with a smile. “Let’s grab some snacks and take a few minutes to relax.”
We head over to the rest area’s small convenience store and grab a few bags of chips, some fruit, and bottled water. As we settle at one of the picnic tables, I try to engage Nia and Malik in a more positive conversation.
“Let’s focus on the good parts of this trip,” I suggest. “We’re about to start a new adventure, and there’s so much to look forward to.”
Malik raises an eyebrow. “Like what?”
“Well,” I say, “there are so many things we can explore in Los Angeles. We can check out new places, meet new people, and try new foods.”
Nia’s eyes light up a little. “Yeah, and we can go to the beach! I heard there are cool amusement parks, too.”
Mom joins us at the table, handing out the snacks. “That’s the spirit. We’re going to make some great memories, I promise. It might take time to adjust, but we’ll get through it together.”
We spend a few more minutes chatting and enjoying our break. The tension from the earlier mishap begins to fade, and I start to feel a bit better. The drive resumes, and the conversation turns to our plans for Los Angeles. We talk about what we hope to find and the adventures we want to embark on.
As night falls and we continue driving, the city lights of our new destination begin to sparkle on the horizon. I can’t help but feel a mix of excitement and trepidation about what lies ahead. The day’s earlier mishap feels like a distant memory compared to the bright possibilities of our new life.
Mom pulls into a hotel for the night, our temporary resting place before we make the final leg of the journey to our new home. As we unpack the car and settle into our rooms, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. Despite the challenges, there’s a spark of determination in my eyes.
“We’re really doing this,” I whisper to myself.
As I crawl into bed, surrounded by the quiet hum of the hotel, I feel a new resolve settling in. The move to Los Angeles will have its ups and downs, but with my family by my side, I’m ready to face whatever comes next.
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FanfictionNobody has done this before...(I think) but this is if Zoey tries dating her own gender.
