LA to The Bay

Chapter 20: Sonoran Desert (2)

Sonoran Desert, Arizona

'Niamh, are you okay?' There is shaking at my shoulder. Of course I'm not okay, they are all laughing at me, again.

'I bet she never even had a boyfriend.' Marty and Juno spit repeatedly.

'Like I would ever actually go out with her, for real.' Louis gestures to Harry. 'Can you believe she fell for that?'

'I know! She is so naive. Naive Niamh!' Harry slaps Louis on the back laughing, obviously proud of his skilled wordplay.

'Naive Niamh.' They all start chanting, their bug eyes and huge grins circling around me, getting closer and closer to my face each time they say it.

'Stop it!' I sob. 'Just leave me alone.'

'Niamh, wake up.' My shoulder is shaken again. 'You're crying.'

'Duncan?' I murmur, confused.

'You're crying Niamh, are you okay?' He repeats.

Of course I'm crying, didn't you hear what they were saying to me?

'I think you were having a nightmare?'

Wait...I look around, confused.

'Are we on the bus?'

'Yeah, for the last hour.' Duncan looks at me as if I have gone mad, something which I'm about to agree with him about.

'You were already asleep when I got on the bus.' He whispers.

I look around again and notice that other people are sleeping too, hence his whisper: it must still be early.

'What time is it?'

'8.30. So how was the balloon ride?'

I remember that Duncan didn't taken the balloon ride. He clearly has some sense and instead enjoyed a lie in, whereas I, Naive Niamh, was only too eager to bounce out of bed in middle of the night, and as such must have passed out as soon as I got back on the bus when the excursion ended at 7am. Either that or the wicked gits drugged me with a Valium whilst we were mid-air causing me to black out whilst we were still up there. They probably painted my face and shaved my eyebrows before dragging me back unconscious and dumping me at my designated seat. I reach to touch my eyebrows just to check. Phew, they are still there.

Well whatever happened my memory is fuzzy and now I've got that grog eyed sedated look, the same as you get when you've either been out partying all night and the alcohol just wore off and you're mum is shouting at you to get up even though you've not actually been to bed or you had to get up really early to get to the airport to catch that wretched 6.30 flight - I mean seriously, why do they need schedule them so early?

'Ugh.' I groan, maybe hoping that making such a noise will help speed up my return to reality. 'Where are we?'

'The middle of the desert somewhere?' Duncan shrugs, grinning as always, like I just told the funniest joke ever. Not that he has anything to grin about, he should be disappointed with himself, as for some reason I expect him to know exactly where we are down to the pin point co-ordinates. He should be able to locate us on a satellite image in two seconds flat!

Because by appearing to be a geek will help raise his worthiness in my mind. Because everyone knows if you can't be pretty then you better be smart or funny.

Who am I trying to kid by trying to pretend that it's me who is the one being picked on here? I'm just as bad as the rest of them, more so since I have the nerve to actually think that I'm a nice person, but in reality I'm more than ready to cast Duncan as either a reject or a spod just because he isn't as classically handsome as boys like Louis and Harry.

Louis and Harry. I peek through the gap of the seats in front of me to try and garner a look at what they are doing up on the fashion front rows. They are both asleep. It's kind of freaky to look at, to see them so relaxed, the buzz of the hot air balloon whacked out of them and leaving them looking peaceful almost, leaning into each other for comfort like a pair of adorable toddlers who have exhausted themselves after too much fun in the sandpit.

Wouldn't it be wonderful if they could remain that way forever, once they wake up, instead of letting all their pretences and concerns about appearing cool flood back in. But face it Niamh, that's never going to happen.

I could continue on this path of self loathing and despair, at my own hypocrisy and the fact that Louis and Harry will never be the people that I want them to be, but I remind myself that I could do this in my bedroom at home and for free instead of wasting the thousand pounds I spent to be here on melancholy.

Instead I look out of the window and watch the hypnotic whirr of the lines of the road whoosh past in the windows reflection. As we begin to climb the scene starts to change and I realise I haven't the foggiest clue where we are going. I know that we are on route to the Grand Canyon but we have another stop today and tonight before that. I think. It never occurred to me to check where this might be or consider that it could possibly be interesting too, but judging by the picture postcard on the other side of the window it might just be.

We are entering true Wild West country and the rocks now a deep red and rounded suddenly propel the image that we are about to be cast in a classic western movie.

I pray that the beauty of the country around me is genuine, for a landscape like it I've never been privileged to see before, and that we are not just entering the grounds of a theme park, but then I remember we are in America, a place where anything can happen, but also place where things that appear real all too often turn out to be fake.