Only Summer Loves October - Ryden

Chapter Sixteen - The Most Addictive Thing I've Ever Tried

"Where's your car?" I question Zack as he unlocks the Ford F series that looks riddled with corrosion. 

"When Pete told me about where I was taking you I thought it was safer to borrow a car than use my own. Now are you going to keep complaining about it or get in?" I don't argue, there's no chance of me getting anyone else to drive. Zack's only doing it because he feels obliged, and I sure as hell won't be getting the bus all the way there.

Me and Zack normally find conversation easy, but he's either concentrating on not getting lost, or he thinks I'm making a mistake. I try to cover the silence by turning the radio on. 'We Didn't Start The Fire' by Billy Joel is playing and I swear this guy is going to be the fucking soundtrack to my life soon. At least it's an upbeat song to brighten the mood.

Zack slows down as we reach an icy patch of road. "Come on man, we're in a pickup, this things got to be fitted with snow tyres." I scrunch my forehead between my fingers in frustration.

"I don't know what you're rushing for, we've got two hours until we get there. Even then they wont be open for another hour, so I'm stopping for food." Zack smirks.

"What? No, I've waited long enough for this we're not stopping - they'll let me in once they know who I am."

"Ryan, if you want to drive the rest of the way yourself then you can decide whether we're stopping or not. Oh wait... you can't. Plus, what's the point of the hat and scarf if you're just going to introduce yourself, why not give them your autograph while your're at it?"

Fucking asshole.

We stop at a diner after about an hour of driving and I have even less of an appetite than usual. I don't know if it's the adrenaline or my own stupidity that's making me sick, maybe both. Zack, however, orders one slice of every pie on the menu. I sit with my poor excuse of a black coffee, when will one of these places learn to make coffee taste like coffee not shitty hot water? I instinctively pull my hip flask from my pocket but only when Zack gives me a knowing glare do I realize that it's a fucking terrible idea to drink right now.

Zack eats most of each pie leaving just one bite from each, then uses his fork to eat the last piece of them all at once. "You look like an animal."

"Don't knock it until you try it. Skinny boy." He spits pieces of pie all over me with crumbs landing in my coffee, I think I'll leave what's left of that.

"Can we go now?" I ask, looking towards the blinding sun shining through the frosted windows.

"Well I suppose I'm just about done here." Zack stands and leaves the money in the shape of a tipi. Another weird and in-explainable trait of his.

I raid the glove compartment for some sunglasses and a small bag of white powder falls out. I raise an eyebrow at Zack. "Don't know how that got there." I keep my eyebrow raised. "Okay, you can put it back now." He leans over and slams the door shut with his free hand.

"You going to tell me how it got in here?"

"I'm just tired okay, all this fucking travelling and socializing it takes its toll man. Give me a break." We go back to silence the rest of the way.

A sign reads on the side of the road - 'Connecticut welcomes you, Connecticut - we're full of surprises'. The irony almost humors me.

I came here once when I was a kid, it was supposed to be a school trip to some museums in New York but they changed it at the last minute. We still had a good time, probably better memories than any we could've made in a shitty museum. We spent the day pissing off our teachers and swimming in a lake. Patrick swallowed so much water he was throwing up all the way home, it's his own fault for telling us he could swim. That was the trip that gave toad-licker his nickname, I wonder what he's up to now.