Is this seat taken?

Driving

Tom walked out about 20 minutes after I got into the kitchen. "Hey," he said, his voice thick from sleep. I returned the greeting and asked what he wanted. He decided on tea and biscuits, saying he never liked eating a lot before going for long car trips.

We made pleasant conversation over breakfast, but I could tell he wasn't himself. After breakfast, I helped Tom load everything into his car and get ready for the trip.

I was trying, I honestly was, but this drive was going to be really tough.

We finished placing the luggage into the trunk of the car, and Tom opened the passenger door for me. My face felt hot as I climbed in. He closed the door after me and walked around to the driver's side. I waited for Tom to start the car after he got in, but he just sat there.

"I don't know if I can do this," he said.

I took his hand in mine to comfort him, without thinking about the gesture. "I'm right here."

"I can't believe you're even doing this. Most people wouldn't. But then again you're not most people. Just...thank you." Tom moved his hand slightly in mine and intertwined his fingers with my own.

I tried to fight the blush that returned to my cheeks, but failed miserably. How was I expected to fight my feelings in this sort of situation. Get over it Gabi. I commanded myself. This was most certainly going to be a long trip.

Two hours later, we were well underway, and I had finally calmed myself down. Our conversation flowed easily as usual, but I couldn't focus. I kept getting distracted by how Tom's lips shaped words, or how his hands moved over the steering wheel while he drove. I reached into my bag for my mix tapes, hoping that some familiar music would help me think straight.

"Damn it!" I exclaimed.

"What?"

"I forgot the CDs on my desk at home," I said, exasperated.

"Just turn the radio on then." Tom reached over and turned a dial on the dash, and old time rock and roll filled the car. "I love this song," Tom cried, while bobbing his head up and down like an idiot. If I was being honest, it wasn't that bad. Not quite my taste, but definitely tolerable.

We listened to that station for the rest of the drive, Tom singing most of the songs and looking surprised that I knew the words to none of them. Then, about an hour after we had turned the radio on, a song played that I actually recognized. The familiar lyrics were a comfort in the stressful situation.

I don't care if Monday's blue,

Tuesday's gray and Wednesday too,

Thursday, I don't care about you,

It's Friday, I'm in love!

I sang along to this one, to Tom's absolute shock. This was one song that I had grown up listening to and was still in my iPhone. He knew it too, and by the end, we were both belting the words at each other between giggles.

After the music faded out, we were both cackling with laughter. It got so bad that Tom had to pull the car over because he couldn't see. We calmed down after a few minutes and continued on our way.

The city was well behind us now, and only fields surrounded the small road. We passed little farm houses every mile or so, but other than that, there was nothing. I had always preferred living in the city for the ease of accessing things; there were 8 grocery stores within a few minutes of walking distance from my dorm back on campus. But as much as I loved the city, there were undeniable perks to the country as well.

Lush fields of waving grass were all around us, and the air smelled fresh. We rolled the windows down and enjoyed the wind rushing through our hair.

It was freeing to be away from almost all of my stress. The only unfortunate part of the trip was that my biggest stressor was Tom at the moment. I tried to keep my mind off of the way he had hugged me the night before and the way his hand had lingered in mine as if unwilling to break the connection. I was just imagining things of course. Tom didn't feel the same way for me as I felt for him. There was nothing more to those gestures than a friend showing appreciation. No romantic intent, no meaning at all other than that of a good friend.

We had been driving now for about 6 hours. "We're almost there," Tom commented.

"Good, I'm starting to get antsy." I looked over at Tom, expecting a chuckle, but instead I saw that tears were silently spilling down his cheeks. Being this close had obviously reminded him of what he was about to face. "Why don't I drive, huh? Pull over."

He did as I asked without hesitation. I got out of the car and crossed around to his side. His door was open, and his seatbelt was off, but he was just sitting there helplessly, looking like a frightened child. It physically hurt me to see him this way. I leaned down, "Come on Tom," I said gently helping him to his feet.

"I'm scared Gabi. I don't know what to do." I wrapped my arms around his lanky frame and held him close. Tom's arms wrapped around me and hugged be back.

A few moments later I pulled away, "Alright," I said, "Let's get going. We don't want to be late." I walked Tom around to the passenger's side and took my seat behind the wheel. "Just tell me when we get there, okay?"

I drove for about 10 minutes before Tom piped up. "That one there," he said, pointing to a small cottage-like house a little ways ahead. I heard him take a deep, settling breath, and his hand found mine again. I should have argued, but I didn't. He was just looking for comfort. I was just imagining the way he seemed to relax when our hands made contact as we pulled into the driveway.