Tainted

Chapter 46: F*ck You Death

"Sweet home Alabama! Where the skies are so blue! Sweet home Alabama, Lord I'm coming home to you!" Chris sings obnoxiously while strumming at his guitar so hard for a moment I believe he'll break the strings.
"Chris we're not even in Alabama anymore," Katie points out with a raised eyebrow.
"What?" his head shoots up to look out the window.
"This looks more like Alabama than Georgia to me," Chris goes back to strumming his guitar.

"I never knew you could tell the difference," I roll my eyes at my brother and go back to the book that I was reading. Jesse's head shifts slightly in my lap as his head rests on my thighs and his legs sprawl up the wall of the car while he holds another book in his hands. It's kind of an odd position to sit in but this van is beginning to feel more and more crammed by the day that any position that we can fully stretch our legs out is a good position. We've been driving for a little over 2 weeks now and I've grown used to the headaches that come with the motion sickness and Chris's soft snores at night but nonetheless I still would like to sleep in an actual bed soon.

"Just a couple more minutes until we reach the East Coast!" Naomi cheers from the drivers seat, obviously excited that she gets a short break from driving.
"Oh thank God," I mumble and put the book down right over Jesse's head causing a low groan of frustration.
"Oh c'mon Jess we've been reading for hours and I have a head ache," I frown and remove the book from his head.

"How about we play I spy?" I smile and he let's out a low sigh while sitting up next to me.
"I spy something with my little eye... red," he confirms and my head glances around the car.
"Your book?" I ask and he shakes his head.
"Naomi's shirt? The cup? The bag? The blanket? The guitar's brand name thingy?" I ask and he still shakes his head.
"The line on the straw in the cup," he grins victoriously and I glance at the red cup I was staring at and see the thin line on the straw. I frown slightly at the unobvious choice and decide to make mine even harder if possible.

My eyes wander all around the car and even outside the car, "I spy with my little eye something," my jaw goes slack and I stare for a moment, "Blue, very blue." Jesse's eyes follow mine and he moves towards the window.
"Welcome to the East Coast my friends!" John cheers and Katie and Chris move next to us as we all huddle around the large window staring at the unending blue that reminds me of California so much I almost think we're there.

"Holy hell," Chris breathes out from next to us as the blue expanse spreads and leaks into the sky like an abstract painting.
"Yeah," I shake my head slightly as the car suddenly skids to a stop. The van door is slung open and the four of us all tumble out on top of each other; Chris's foot digging into my gut and my elbow pounded into Jesse's face. Oh no not the face!

I quickly leap up and glance around at my pile— literally—of friends as they slowly stand up and take in the view the same way I am. Jesse's hand rests on my shoulder as he moves next to me and slides down to my back as we both stare out at the East Coast with the sun hovering over the water like a teacher over a cheating student. The last time I checked the time it was around 6:30 so the sun is barely hot but the air still humid and the Georgian landscape gives me a small sense of nostalgia as I wish my mother could be here with us to experience it all, or even Harvey.

"Damn," I breathe out and stare with eyebrows raised.
"We got to see the sun set in Cali and now it rise on the good old East Coast," Jesse laughs slightly in joy and I find a smile on my face as well.
"Hey how far does sound bounce off the water? Like if I shouted something how many people could hear?" Chris questions while turning to Naomi and John.
"I don't know probably a lot of people," Naomi responds with an amused smile on her face.
"Why?" Jesse interrupts with curiosity playing along his features.

Chris lets a wide grin appear on his face, the kind I haven't seen in, years really, not since George died. Chris turns to the Atlantic Ocean, the water tickling his toes as he cups his hands around his mouth and belts out the words, "FUCK YOU DAD!" It does seem like his shout echoes across the whole ocean and for a moment I wonder if people in Africa can hear his plea. Chris lets out a gut wrenching laugh as he turns to the ocean and shouts it again, this time louder and with more confidence.