I Promise

18

I can't help but laugh and look at Matt with what I hope he recognizes as gratitude. He guns the engine and we're off, and this time he won't even give me a small hint.

So I sit back in my seat and let the hunkering crossover take me wherever it's headed.

I realize that we are heading back to the city, and I wonder what part of the city Matt is taking me to. By the time we'd be in Santa Barbra, it would practically be sunset. It didn't help that there is a lot of traffic in the city, so it would take a while.

Matt drums his fingers on the steering wheel as I sit silently, trying to think of anything to take my mind off of the boring road. The ride to the destination was fun, and riding back into the city feels like all my responsibilities and lies would come right at me, and they would drown me. So far, we are the only car on the road, probably because we are off the highway and driving past a bunch of ranches and farms.

"A little bit gloomy, yes? The road back to just two teenage lives," Matt says.

"Just two ordinary teenagers," I say.

Matt raises his eyebrows, but keeps his mind on the road.

"Now, I never said we were ordinary. I just said that we were going back to our teenage lives. Where adults think that we are imbeciles and gloomy, and we just want to push their buttons."

I shrug. "I'd call that ordinary."

"Rynn Connaughy, you are not an average teenager."

"How so?"

"Well for starters, you met me. So that already makes you remarkable."

I laugh.

"Look who's being humble," I joke, smiling.

"What makes you think you are anything but ordinary? I'd like to see how many teens can say they've had a beachside picnic while horseback riding through the vineyards."

I laugh again. "I guess you're right."

"Trust me, I know I'm right," Matt replies, grinning.

There's silence for a while, and then he speaks again. He manages to give me a quick glance before turning his attention back to the road.

"Tell me something. Do you believe in the ordinary?" he asks.

"Yeah, I guess," I say. What an interesting question. But that's Matt. Full of questions and mystery.

"I don't," he says matter-of-factly. I sit a little higher on my seat.

"Why?" I ask.

"I don't believe anyone can be ordinary. We all have our own extraordinary stories. How can we be average when each of us lives a different life? How can we be ordinary if your daily life is completely different than your friends? If you two switched places, you would feel different, because you're not used to their way of doing things. So how can we be ordinary if everyone's lives are out of the ordinary for us?"

"Excellent deduction, Mr. Holmes," I say, and Matt laughs.

"I see your point. But it won't stop me from thinking that my life is not some sort of storybook adventure."

Matt smiles and shrugs. "I plan on changing that thought, " he says.

I smile and look out the window at the passing farmland. I feel so tiny in such an open space, like I am insignificant. Worthless. Just like my dad used to tell me. Hell, maybe he'll continue saying it even after the divorce. It feels like a stab in my stomach when I think about it.