Awkward.

Awkward: Five

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                                                      • FIVE •

 

I HESITATED TO climb into Aaron’s car, unlike Andy who immediately abandoned me in his dead beat truck once Aaron told us to “hop in”. Not only was I dreading sitting in a closed vehicle with Mr. Hot Shot, but I wasn’t looking forward for the walk of shame from the truck to the passenger door. Especially since I was still shirtless.

        As another rod of lightening struck — a little closer than before, might I add — I swallowed the little pride I had left (plus my fear) and quickly opened the door as I ran through the cold water hitting my skin hard. Although I didn’t understand why, instead of sitting up front in the passenger seat, Andy was sat in the back, leaving the only spot that was a mere foot away from Aaron to me.

        Did I mention I was still in my bra?

        The windows to Aaron’s car were tinted black that the only thing I could see in front of me was my reflection staring back. And god, did I look like a hot mess… only without the hot part. My face resembled something of a raccoon with my make-up dripping down my face and although my damp hair was sticking to my face, the humidity had it frizzing out wildly. Picture a lion in a bra with the face of a raccoon and you have my very appearance.

        As I subtly checked myself out through the mirror and tried to fix the disaster that is my face, the window to the backseat slowly rolled down and Andy mumbled out something that the blatant rain drowned out.

        “I can’t understand what you’re saying,” I bluntly blurted out after the third time he tried speaking.

        He sighed. “The windows aren’t, uh, tinted on both sides—”

        “We can all see you,” Aaron finished Andy’s thought.

        And just like my nipples, I was frozen in place. Until a part of what he said continued to ring in my head. “A-all?” What did Aaron mean by all? I know him and Andy were both in the car but all implied that there were more than two people. Before I had the chance to put the pieces together, the passenger seat window — the very window that I previously used to smooth down my hair and attempt to wipe away the raccoon mask off my face — rolled down and my inquiries from earlier were soon answered when Phil’s flushed face came into view.

        “How’s it, um, going Blake?” he said, flashing a crooked, uneasy smile.

        “Ph-ph-ph,” was all that came out. Phil avoided making eye contact and kept looking away and back. It wasn’t until he glanced down at my chest and quickly jerked his eyes away was when I remembered my current bare appearance. A mortified look etched across my face as I struggled to cover up, and although it was negative something degrees out, I could feel my face burn up immensely.

        “You should—we should, uh, get in, no uh, go uh,” he mumbled, shaking his head as if that would help him form a coherent sentence.

        It doesn’t. I’ve tried.

        Instead of trying to speak again, I simply nodded my head and as if on cue, Andy immediately opened the backseat door for me.

        “Oh honey,” he cooed, rubbing my back once I got in. “That was just painful to watch.”

        Aaron roughly coughed out, breaking me out of my despair. “If you don’t mind I’d like to get going so none of us get stuck in this flood.” He glanced up at the rear view mirror, his vibrant olive eyes finding mine immediately. “And careful with my seats; you’re dripping, and they’re leather.”