Short Stories!

a drive (angst)

Quick Side Note: this is kinda just a vent.

Eve looks up from her phone, the cold light making her face glowing the setting sun.

The car pulls around the corner, an old Volvo Heritage, Mikey's pride and joy, his baby.

Her heart still aches, and her cheek still stings, but it's easy to ignore now. Her best friend is here, and everything is ok.

She throws her duffel bag in the backseat and slips into the passenger seat. This is normal. It's just another day, and she and he are going to the movies, and going to the cafe after.

But the darkening sky and tears on her face tell a different story.

He grabs her hand and interlaces their fingers, then turns the key without a word.

The city is bright and loud, alive with horns and headlights even with the rising moon. He doesn't turn onto the highway, for which she is glad, but turns to the backroads.

The sun is gone now, the moon rising steadily. They sit in silence, hands still together.

The world seems frozen for a few minutes.

A car comes around the bend suddenly, headlights blinding. She hears Mikey curse under his breath and she smiles, just barely.

He moves to leave her clutch, but she holds fast, and in return, he squeezes her hand comfortingly. In truth, she doesn't know what will happen if he lets go. But as of right then, his hand is the only thing keeping her from falling, out of the car, out of her mind.

Now there is nobody on the road at all. Just the tall trees lining the road, eerie in the darkness. The headlights brighten the road in front of them, but out the windows, it is almost pitch black. Eve can hear the crickets chirping loudly, and she hears an owl hoot. She is glad they are there to break the deafening silence. If they weren’t she knows they would have to talk to fill the quiet, and she feels that if she speaks now she will cry again.

For a while, there’s that feeling of everything being frozen again.

She reaches up, over her head and opens the sunroof. Then, though it pains her, she slowly unlatches their hands. Then she slowly puts her feet on the armrest. Mikey moves out of the way for her, eyes still on the road. She slowly, slowly rises onto her tiptoes, just as those many years of ballet have taught her.

Her head and half of her torso are out of the car now, her arms braced in the sides of the sunroof. She closes her eyes for a moment, feels the wind, whipping her hair around her head. Then she looks up at the sky.

There is no light pollution here, only millions and millions of sparkling dots, like sugar spilled over a black table. She starts to spot the constellations that Mikey taught her about, at the same place this car is heading to.

After a while, she just starts to count the stars humming a soft lullaby. She lowers herself back into her seat and leans against her window. With the car rocking her goodnight, she falls asleep.

She is awoken by Mikey shaking her softly. She can see the house, their house in the background. He has her duffel bag over his shoulder. They walk over to it together. And, as she steps inside,  She thinks that maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay.