I wake up with a pain in my back and a crick in my neck. Last night was the first of many nights that I would spend in the backseat of Lizzy's car. It was uncomfortable, despite the blanket she threw over the leather seats to make it seem like a makeshift mattress. It was uncomfortable... and extremely hot. With all the windows open and no air conditioning flowing through the car, the desert heat began trapping itself inside, making my eyes dry out and my throat feel itchy. Even at this time of morning, with the sun barely poking its head out from the horizon, it's still the most intense heat I felt in a long time. Oh this would be the longest month of my life, indeed.
I stare at the roof of Lizzy's car, listening to the faint sound of her snoring from the driver's seat, remembering that I was supposed to be on a flight back to London at this time. Admittedly, I think I'd rather continue an exciting adventure with Lizzy (even though she was a criminal), than go back to my boring life at home, working all day and making minimum wage. Despite the heat and dryness of our surroundings, Lizzy may make this seem worthwhile, just like my bust trip to Las Vegas. The only way I'd be able to make that so, is if I get over my bad attitude.
I sit up in the back seat, rubbing my eyes, trying to lubricate them. They were uncomfortably dry; my body was definitely not used to this climate. As I sit up, I notice when I look out the window that Lizzy is parked absolutely in the middle of nowhere. There's not even a road around us, just sand, shrubs and hills, a place too hot even for trees to grow. I let myself out of the stuffy car, thinking the air outside might be fresher; it wasn't. The surrounding area was just as humid as the inside of the car.
I take a deep breath of the dry air before taking a seat back inside her car. I sit in the passenger seat this time and shake Lizzy awake, her snores die off and she jolts forward before looking at me. "I'm thirsty," I say.
Her eyes are heavy and her lips are dry too, like mine. She looks ten times more tired than I feel but she reluctantly nods and starts her car. It's about a half an hour drive to the closest off road variety store and it sits near state line. The drive there is quiet, besides the sound of her car's engine; we were constantly surrounded by complete silence here.
She pulls up to the variety store that is attached to a gas station and fills up her car while I raid the store for water. I take two big bottles and find eye drops sitting on a shelf, so I take those too. Finally, I'd begin to feel hydrated again. Lizzy comes up from behind me and offers to pay for the water with the gas. As she does, I notice the television above the cashier's head. The breaking news is about Lizzy and I, and you wouldn't believe who comes up on screen.
"Did you know the suspect personally?" the reporter asks.
"Yes, I did," Victoria says. My jaw clenches and I subtly tap Lizzy's hand to get her attention, my eyes never leaving the screen. "I came here with her on vacation and she started acting weird, like blowing me off and stuff. I was wondering why, I mean this was supposed to be a fun vacation for the both of us and then the other day I saw on the news that she killed someone."
The screen changes to an officer, standing in familiar surroundings. "Thanks to insiders, we traced the number of the suspect's cell phone to this home in Summerlin, the phone was broken on the floor and most of the personal belongings have been cleared out. We found pictures of previous wanted Zetas all over the house, indicating that the cartel is actively working in Las Vegas."
The screen changes again to pictures of traffic jams and police searching vehicles. "Because of Nevada's cartel scare, active stop and searches have been stationed on all roads leading into Arizona and California." The screen changes yet again, to two familiar faces: Lizzy's mug shot and me, looking into the camera at John Summers' house. I swallow as they continue to talk about the cartel and the war on drugs.
The cashier clears his throat and Lizzy and I look at him. "Crazy huh?" Neither of us says anything to him, so he continues. "Crazy people out there. Hard to believe they could be anywhere by now."
I look at Lizzy and she looks at me before we take our things and head out of the store, without saying anything to the cashier. We sit in her car together and she takes a long breath. "That fucking bitch," I say, recalling of Victoria's smug face on television. "I can't believe she'd just sell me out like that, Jesus Christ after paying for her trip too. What a fucking cunt." Lizzy laughs to herself and opens a bottle of water. "Did you hear what they said?" I ask. "About stop and searches?"
She nods. "That's what the fake ID is for."
"Are you kidding? We're going into that?"
She shrugs and starts her car. "Why not? They won't have anything on us." I bit my lip and look down at my fingers as she drives away from the little shop, sipping one of the litre bottles of water. I'm playing with my fingernails as we pass a sign that says state line is three and a half miles away. I tense when I see the sign, knowing that a dozen cops would be stationed and ready to question us exactly three and a half miles away. I think Lizzy notices that I'm not comfortable with it, so she drives her car to the shoulder of the freeway.
"Do you not want to go?" She asks, putting her car in park. "I won't go if you don't want me to."
I look at her. "How else are we supposed to get to Texas?"
"We could take a detour," she says. "If it makes you feel better. Like we could go north, through Utah, instead." I nod again. So it looks like we would be in Nevada longer than planned. I hope staying in the car tonight won't be as grimy and humid as it was last night.
We start our journey toward Utah; it's about two hours to the closest city to Nevada called St. George, where Lizzy gets tired of driving so we decide to spend time here. It's a quaint little town with a large white church at the centre of it; fan palm trees and sandstone sculptures stand everywhere. You'd never imagine a little conservative town like this to be absolutely gorgeous. Lizzy and I have breakfast at a diner on the edge of town, it's filled with old people and rednecks, exactly what you'd expect in a place like this. We have a long talk about our lives before this mess, just about everyday things we used to do back at home.
"I get off the tube at St. John's Wood Station and my flat is literally right there," I say.
"Tube?"
I nod. "Yeah it's like the...what do you call it?"
"Subway?" she asks, a smile creeping up on her face.
"Yes, the subway."
"So you never drive?"
"Sometimes," I say. "Everything is really fucking far away from each other so it's hard."
"What car do you drive?"
"Some crappy car," I laugh and look down into my coffee. "Silver Honda."
Lizzy proceeds to tell me about college, her old friends and boyfriends and for the first time in the last few days, her words seem to be genuine. She's actually beginning to tell me some truth and I feel myself beginning to confide in her again. I know she only lied to protect my feelings and so she could make a friend after being so lonely. It suddenly didn't bother me as much as it did yesterday, but I don't want to be vulnerable either. Lizzy was still manipulative and got me into this situation, I have to tell myself that before I get sucked back into her act. Although part of me also wonders why she'd still be deceiving me even after everything already happened.
I'm usually so good at reading people, but the way she lied to me, so innocently without me second-guessing most of it, made it hard to tell when exactly she was being truthful. Now when I'm running the marathon of my life and need someone's support, I'm not sure if she'll provide it for me, or just pretend to.
~~~
this is a filler! the next one will be too but after that it gets good I promise. + sorry for not updating lately
