Coast to Coast

INTRO:

I watched as Riley’s eye lids fluttered the way they always did when she was dreaming. I felt guilty for letting my eyes shift over to her side of the car but I couldn’t help it. Each time I snuck a glance at her peaceful happy face I couldn’t help but remember all of our previous road trips. She never could stay awake in the car. I had spent many long trips to San Francisco or Santa Cruz watching her sleep, while I chain smoked cigarettes, when I recalled those trips now they seemed golden, completely untouched by all that had gone wrong with us. The image that represented Riley most in my mind was the picture of her at dawn after a night spent sleeping in my car at the beach front in Santa Cruz. Her eyes had just flickered open and the light was streaming in behind her face turning the world a glorious honey color. Every aspect of her beautiful face was only amplified. Her lips were a perfect crimson and each freckle on the bridge of her nose was as clear as day. Her eyes were half closed and the halo of frizz around her head created the perfect picture of innocence and contentment. In my mind I pictured her mouth silently forming the words I love you. I felt my heart twist in my chest as I returned to reality and tore my eyes away from her sleeping form to punch in the cigarette lighter.

The sound of the rain pelting the windows woke me up. I held my eyes shut for a moment, bracing myself for what I would find in my view. As my eyes fluttered open they were bathed in a gray blue light and filled with the sights of the Napa valley rolling around me. I turned to my left and another dreary sight filled my view. Tristan sat behind the wheel tapping his fingers and pouting his lips, the curls falling into his eyes were the cherry on top of the teen angst sundae. I was suddenly knocked sideways by all of the memories and emotions flooding over me and for a moment I had a genuine case of the warm fuzzies. That was until he turned to meet my eyes and I caught a glimpse of the cold resentment that lay with in him. At that moment the warm flood turned into an ice cold tidal wave. I cleared my throat and sat up in my seat. The jacket I had pulled over my shoulders fell to the floor. “How long was I out?” I asked as I stretched my arms as best as I could. Tristan’s tiny old rabbit didn’t leave much room for a lanky girl like me. He shrugged wordlessly and fiddled with the stereo.

CHAPTER ONE:

Riley

The story of how I actually ended up in a car with Tristan bound for the east would be a rather funny one if it wasn’t so personal and tragic. I met Tristan Corbel when I was 16.  I took a seat next to him in my SAT testing room purely by coincidence. You see I have a method for choosing a seat in an unfamiliar class room. I take the seat in the dead center of the room. See most people will try to slide under the radar by sitting in the back corners and the pretty confident girls and athletes sit at the front to grace us all with their magnificent presence. I however am a center of the room person. I’m not sure what that says about me but I’m willing to live with it, whatever it may be. The seat to my right was empty and I couldn’t help but sneak a glance to my left. Out of the corner of my eye I spied a boy with curly dark hair and pale skin. He couldn’t seem to keep still he tapped his toes and ran his hands through his hair and bit his lip. I chalked it up to pre test jitters but later I would come to realize that this was just his default setting. I had to admit he was cute, very cute. I was very intrigued and was just looking for a chance to wiggle my way into his consciousness when he turned to me and asked “do you have a pencil?” I had been so focused I jumped, probably making a fool of myself. “Huh?” I asked in a dazed manner I was sure my mouth was hanging open. Oh dear lord this boy was even more gorgeous up close he had the most perfect lips I had ever seen. This time I focused on his lips as he asked “Do you have a pencil?” Without thinking I handed him the yikes number two pencil that was sitting on the corner of my desk. He smiled down at it for a second “You don’t see many of these anymore. Where’d you get that eBay?” I looked down at my desk and then back at him “hey you stole my pencil” he looked bewildered. “You gave it to me” he said pulling it closer as if he was afraid I would snatch it back “No I didn’t you klepto, that’s the only pencil I have. Give it back!” he twisted it between his fingers and met me with a level gaze. “But I don’t have a pencil either.” He said glancing back down at the pencil in a dejected way that reminded me of a little kid. “That is so not my problem” I said sternly. His face suddenly lit up. “I have an idea!” he exclaimed and before I could say otherwise he snapped my beautiful multi-colored Yikes pencil in half. “What in the name of all that is beautiful and vintage are you doing?” I asked trying to ignore the fact that my voice had shot up an entire octave. Without answering me he pulled a small cap eraser out of his back pack and placed it on the splintered side of the sharpened half of the pencil. He then produced a small pencil sharpener and twisted out a point on the end with the eraser. “Compromise my fair lady” he said simply handing me the end with the original eraser. “I do not understand why you have all of the proper accessories for a pencil but not a pencil its self” I said dryly looking at my amputee pencil. “You’ll find that I’m a mystery in many ways.” He said as he turned to face forward in his chair leaving me with my stub of a pencil and for the first time in a long time no words in my mouth. Mostly because more than anything in the world I wanted to know all of those mysteries inside and out.