The Troubled Ones | ✔

Chapter 18. Road to Recovery

[a/n]: ugh this was hard to write for some reason. sorry for this ending - it's pretty bad. SIGH. The struggles.

Chapter 18. Road to Recovery

                An hour and a half was all it took for Jasper to pack, drop Ruthie off at his grandma's, and settle into his rusty pickup with me beside him. He's got one hand on the steering wheel and the other out the window, feeling the cool summer breeze. The clothing he occupies are your typical summer wear; the simple tank top that's somewhat low cut around his under arms, the faded board shorts, sunglasses to cover his electric blues, and some muddy Vans on his feet.

"So, where should we go to first?" Jasper inquires.

"Las Vegas! No, Los Angeles!" I exclaim with joy, completely psyched for this trip.

"How about a gas station, first. We've been on the road for an hour and I forgot to fill her up before we left." he laughs, pointing to the empty gas tank sign on the deck of his truck.

"Oh, right." I sheepishly grin.

He pulls the truck into the nearest gas station and shuts the engine off. Grabbing his wallet out of his shorts pocket, he exits the vehicle and places the pump into the tank. Humming to myself quietly, I begin to yearn for some music. I open the glove compartment of his truck and search for any CD's he might have stashed away, finding no such luck.

Jasper enters the truck again and settles into the drivers seat, placing his keys into the ignition to start the truck up again. When it rumbles to life, he steps on the gas and we leave the gas station, merging back onto the open road to continue our journey.

"How about Hollywood?" I suggest another place to visit.

"I'm thinking of a number for each place you suggested. Which ever number you guess is closest to the number I have for them, then we'll go there first." Jasper says.

"Okay, how about.. twenty-four." I guess.

He smirks and glances to me then back to the road. "LAX it is."

-

Three hours have gone by and it is now precisely 8:30 PM. We are still on the road, waiting to arrive in LAX, but this journey seems endless, but as long as we are going on an adventure for once, I am okay. The radio in Jasper's truck is blasting American Authors as we trek down the busy roads with our windows rolled down and our voices singing loudly and rather terribly; well, my voice at least. Jasper sounds like a legitimate angel.

"Best day of my li-i-i-ife!" I belt out the tune of one of American Authors famous songs.

The song ends and the radio goes silent as mine and Jasper's voices die down. We come to a red light and the truck slowly comes to a stop. Peering over at Jasper, I examine his facial features in curiosity.

Clearly noticing my unbearable stare, he laughs shortly and glances over at me. "What?"

"I didn't know you could sing." I state.

"Didn't know you could either." he laughs, knowing full well that I am basically tone-def.

"I'm serious, you're pretty good." I admire his voice and he shrugs modestly.

With a yawn, I stretch my joints out and take a drink of my bottle of water. The light turns green and Jasper lurches the truck forward, the summer breeze outside hitting my skin and making me shiver. I roll the window up and pull my jacket closer to my body, in which I then notice Jasper is glancing over at me.