My Father's Best Man

Chapter 3

It was hard picking out the right clothes to pack for this trip. I had never been to California before. All the TV shows seemed to suggest bringing at least one swim trunks. I packed mostly shorts and t-shirts, and my Nike duffle bag was big enough, which was nice, because I liked to travel light. But I still didn't have the right formal wear for the actual wedding. I had already sent my rental tux back; ordering another one online could take days for it to arrive. Perusing through my father's closet was a waste of time, because I was already taller than him now. I still had my old jazz band uniform, though. It was also too short, but it was still longer than all my father's blazers.

Since I didn't want to wrinkle it, I wore my green jacket on the road. And to prevent the sleeves from looking too short, I flipped the cuffs like a hipster. I thought about wearing a pair of sunglasses too, but that would just be too much.

I left a note on the counter for my father, in case cut his honeymoon short. I didn't want to call because I was afraid she  might be the one to pick up.

If he was here, he would remind me to go to the auto shop before hitting the road; my truck was quite old after all. I always ignored his advice, not because I didn't think he was right, but because Casey's dad was our town's main mechanic. For me, it was always worth paying a bit more to go to a franchise store elsewhere to avoid seeing Casey's fat face. There were plenty of Jiffy Lubes off the freeway for me to pick from anyway.

The ride on the 70 was relatively smooth. This was the freeway that I knew the most.

My school was in this direction, so I had been on this freeway since I got my license. That wasn't a fun summer... the time I got my license. My father was not the nicest driver, and he was not the best driving instructor either. I had vivid memories of him teaching my sister, and it always ended with her crying on the passenger side. So when it was my turn to be taught, I made sure I took a few lessons before coming back home. Luckily, I passed my test on the first try, barely...

My Great-Auntie then gave me their truck as an early birthday present. She said I used to bug her husband to take me fishing all the time. She said he would drive me up the creek in this vehicle. I couldn't remember anything of that sort. She probably just needed an excuse to get rid of this nuisance because she was moving to Florida then. But she did have that one picture of me and my Great-Uncle by the lake, though. We didn't have any fish with us in that photo. We were just there in our proper fishing clothes next to our empty fishing poles.

"Hey, hon. What can I get you?"

Just forty five minutes into my trip, I was forced to make a quick stop. My stomach was growling, and I forgot to pack a few leftover pizzas.

"Uh... I'll get a grand slam combo, please. Thank you."

"You got it. Coffee?"

"No. That's okay."

She jotted down my order and went to the back. I only met her a few times, so she probably didn't remember me. When we snuck out of our dorm for some late night munchies, it was always this big hair redhead lady's shift. Kellyanne was her name. She knew us quite well. After a while, she stopped checking our fake IDs. It was really awkward when our band director decided to take us here after our competition. Me and Fulton kept our heads low, but Justin was so dumb, he actually waved to her! She played it cool. I thought she was the shit back then. I was going to name my imaginary daughter after her. But thinking back now, she was probably just looking out for herself.

Fulton was the one who got us our fake IDs. He was like a prison smuggler. I was his accomplice because I was his roommate, and I was one of the few students who had his own car. Other students who had their own cars were all mega-rich, and people didn't like them very much. My Great-Auntie's truck gave me a lot of clout at my school. I wasn't necessarily popular, but people definitely knew me.

Even though it was an all boy school, we had a bimonthly assembly with the girls from the Sacred Heart. We were Lutherans, and they were Catholics, so besides the Pope, we were basically the same. Hannah, the girl who asked me out to their Sadie's, knew me as the guy with the truck. Back then, I didn't know that was her way of flirting. I really didn't think anything of it. She was bubbly and chatty, maybe a bit too much. We remained friends, and nothing really happened. Then that Spring, I met Brooke, and Hannah stopped texting me. It wasn't until months later that I found out Fulton had been spreading rumors of me to her. I didn't know he had a crush on her. Well, "crush" might not be strong enough of a word. Her standoffish behavior at the assemblies suddenly all made sense. But I didn't feel like reaching out to her. Fulton and I stopped talking long before that. He also got me into trouble at band practice, and I quit soon after.

I hated every second of it when I was there, but now that I was out, now that all this was in the past, everything felt different, strange... a bit sad, almost. Funny how the bad memories then weren't so bad now that I thought about it. I had never seen my school from this angle before. Looking at my rearview mirror, everything was in reverse. Perhaps if the circumstances were a bit different, if I wasn't forced to be there, I would've enjoyed my time a bit more back then.