Once Upon A Road Trip

by Angela N. Blount

  “It’s not that you’re bothering me,” he said, arms locked across his chest. “My mom wanted us back in time to help get things ready for my going away party. She’s pissed enough that I invited you to stay with us—we don’t need to make it worse on her.”

  Angie’s frustration boiled over into flat-out anger. “Why did you convince me to come to D.C. if you knew your mom didn’t want me here?”

  Scott lifted a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, as though he were combating a headache. “I wanted you here, okay? I wanted to see you one last time.” He hesitated. “And I didn’t want to drive nine hundred miles by myself. I thought we could help each other out. Maybe I was being kinda selfish, but I mean, you’re here now. Can’t we just make the best of it?”

  “I’m trying.” Angie sighed, stuffing her camera back into her pocket. “So, what am I doing wrong? I’ve cleaned up after myself, stayed out of everyone’s way, tried not to eat any of your food— What does your mom want from me?”

  Scott pulled his shoulders up in a stiff shrug. “She just doesn’t trust you or something. Maybe it’s a personality thing.” His sun-darkened brow furrowed as he pondered. “You should think about sucking up a little, you know? It’s not like you’re too good for that.”

  Angie frowned. Though she didn’t like the sound of his suggestion, the relentless heat had drained the fight out of her. “We can go now,” she said, motioning further north toward the street.

  Allowing Scott to lead the search for the subway, Angie trudged along in a mental fog. While she’d spent time at the water fountain back at the museum, she wasn’t sure it was enough to fend off the threat of dehydration. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, the abridged tour of D.C. was likely for the best — she would have needed several days to do it justice, anyway. Her irritability eased with the realization.

  As they progressed several stifling blocks, she struggled to commit her impression of the city to memory. The immaculate streets blurred together in her mind, along with the occasional sharp-dressed citizen. Compared to New York, there weren’t many people out and about.

  “You know your mom better than anybody.” Angie restarted the conversation on a calmer note, glancing sidelong at Scott. “What do you think I should do?”

  Scott seemed confident in the direction they were headed, though judging by his stooped shoulders and the sweat-matted bangs that had pulled free of his pony tail, the sun was getting to him as well. “She hates cooking,” he said, pausing at a street corner to peer up at a sign. “You could make her dinner tomorrow night. She’d probably love that.” He pointed across the street and then made a dash through the crosswalk.

  Angie jogged to keep up with him, though the exertion made her temples throb. She was ready for the day to be over. “I can do that,” she said, once the threat of traffic was behind her. “I’ll see if she’ll let me go with her tomorrow and help with the shopping. Does she like chicken?”

  Scott had reached an outdoor access elevator that promised to lead to the underground station. “Who doesn’t like chicken?” He cast an aggravated look over his shoulder.

  “Well I don’t know, I’m just asking!” Angie snapped back, exasperated. He kept punching the already glowing “down” button, and it took every ounce of her remaining self-control not to slap his hand away.

  When the doors parted, an inviting rush of chilled air enveloped them. Angie lurched forward and made her way to the rear of the empty elevator, leaning her back flat against the cool wall. She closed her eyes and took in an appreciative breath. Amid her relief, she had only a vague awareness of the chime as the doors closed, and the shuffle of feet as Scott moved about.

  Just as the elevator began to move, she was startled to sense Scott in front of her. And he wasn’t just in her space, he was pressing against her, crushing her between his chest and the wall. The smell of sweat and aftershave burned her nose. Then his mouth was on hers, heated and demanding. Stunned, Angie tried to break away by pushing herself at an angle, but was stopped by the fact he’d braced his arms against the wall on either side of her. She attempted to voice her protest, only to have his tongue invade her mouth. Her mind swam with dread and confusion.

  What is he doing?! Even more astonishing was the realization that she felt no desire to respond. Instead, Vince’s face appeared in her mind. The memory of his imploring green eyes filled her with resolution.

  Angie snapped her head to one side hard enough to sever their contact, catching Scott’s face with her chin in the process. “Stop it!” Driven to put immediate distance between them, she dropped her weight, ducked out from under his arms, and retreated to the opposite side of the elevator. Scott remained propped with one arm against the wall, his other hand cupped over his mouth. He stared downward, dark brows pinched in a look of pain. She’d hurt him — likely in more ways than one.

  Good. She clenched her fists at her sides.

  “I’m sorry.” Scott’s voice came muffled from behind his hand. He turned toward her as the elevator came to a stop.

  “You should be.” Angie glowered at him, striding out when the doors parted. She scanned the cement floor of the underground hallway and started for the turnstiles she spotted ahead. “What happened to that ‘just friends’ thing? And why would you do that, after we’ve been on each other’s nerves all day—?” She turned back to Scott.

  “I know, I know...it was stupid.” Scott dropped his hand. His lower lip had suffered a small split, which he began to chew at. He hung his head, avoiding any eye contact with her. “I wasn’t thinking. You just looked so—” Without finishing the thought, he ambled past her toward the subway platform.

  Angie’s outrage dwindled as she watched him walk off. It was at least half her fault, she decided. She never should have come to D.C. In her effort to preserve a friendship, she’d failed to let enough time pass for both of them to see things clearly. And surely heat delirium could share some of the blame.

  After all, kissing Scott had just made her feel like she was betraying someone who she had little chance of ever seeing again.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  “There’s a call for you.” Scott’s mother scowled as she carried the house phone into the living room.

  It was well after dark, and Angie had been winding down with a book while Scott slept off a mild case of heat exhaustion on the nearby couch. Standing, she concealed her curiosity. She wasn’t due to check in with anyone for several days. “Thank you, Cindy.” Angie smiled, willing the cantankerous woman to find her at least somewhat likable.

  “Don’t you go making any long distance calls on the house line,” the smaller woman warned, handing off the device with a suspicious air. “I’ll send you the bill if you do.”

  Angie held her smile, though it took all of her concentration. “Oh, don’t worry. I shouldn’t need to. I can just borrow Scott’s cell if I do—” She cut herself off upon seeing a look of irritation flare across the woman’s face. Angie pressed the receiver to the center of her chest and ducked her head as she walked to the back door, escaping onto the deck. Thick with humidity, the air outside was only moderately cooler than it had been earlier in the day. The distant rumble of thunder told her the condition of the sky before she glanced up.

  “Hello?” She spoke into the phone, having nearly forgotten her curiosity. Enough of her mind was expecting Elsie to be on the other end that it caught her by surprised to hear a masculine tenor.

  “Hey, Angel.”

  Angie’s throat tightened. Vince’s voice was strangely soothing, like the mental equivalent of ice on a fresh burn. She couldn’t help but smile in relief. “Hey, you.”

  “I promised myself I wouldn’t bother you,” he began, sounding every bit as mollified as she felt. “But I had to know how you were doing.”

  “I’m doing okay.” She eased across the deck and stepped down into the grass, dew dampening her bare feet. “Just tired and ready to leave. I wish I’d just gone straight home after Alabama.” S
he found herself admitting more than she’d meant to.

  “Is that Scott guy treating you alright?” Vince’s tone shifted to concern.

  “Yes.” Angie reconsidered. “Kind of. We’re not getting along so well. And I think his mother would like to set me on fire, given the opportunity and no threat of legal repercussions—” Her attempt at a joking didn’t come out as convincing as she’d intended.

  “You’re leaving soon though, right?”

  “I have just a few more days,” she said, beginning an absent circling of the little willow tree in the middle of the lawn. “I should be back home by the fifth.”

  “Good.” Vince sounded satisfied. “So, how soon should I start looking for plane tickets? Grady might tag along, but he knows to let us have time to talk if we need to.”

  Angie paused mid-step, struck by his resolve. “You...you’re serious? You still want to visit Minnesota?”

  “I want to see you again,” he said, voice lowering in earnest. “I miss you. A lot.”

  “Vince—”

  “Maybe it doesn’t make sense, but I’m not the same as I was before I met you.” He took in a steadying breath and went on. “I tried to leave you alone—I really did. I still will, if you tell me that’s what you want. But I can’t stop thinking about you. I don’t even want to.” He hesitated. “And not in a crazy stalker kind of way. I mean—I’m not obsessed or anything like that.”

  “I know.” Angie chuckled, hoping to defuse his anxiousness. Before she could work up another dissuading argument, she remembered the sense of loyalty she’d felt for him earlier in the day. It mingled with Vince’s potent sincerity and her elation over hearing his voice. Something in her faltered. “I miss you too.”

  “Would it be okay if I keep checking on you?”

  Angie wrapped her free arm around herself, slowing her pacing as a closer peel of thunder sounded overhead. Looking up, she watched lightning flicker behind the clouds. “I wouldn’t mind,” she said. “I just don’t want to take up a lot of your time. You don’t get enough sleep as it is.”

  “I can’t think of a better way to spend my time.” His voice warmed. “Besides, sleep is for the weak.”

  “Sleep is healthy,” she corrected. “And so is eating. You need to be doing more of both.”

  Vince laughed. “If it makes you happy, I’ll work on it.” His humored tone sobered after a pause. “My mom asked today if I took any pictures while you were here, and I realized I didn’t. I really wish I had.”

  A spark of recollection jumped to the front of her mind. “Are you at home right now?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I just got in. Why?”

  “Go to your desk and lift up your keyboard.”

  Silence stretched out on the other end of the line, save for muffled hints of movement. “Oh wow,” Vince breathed, indicating he’d found the picture Angie had left behind for him. The wallet-sized senior photo featured her in an elegant, powder-blue gown, which had served as a surprise last impression for her high school yearbook. She’d agonized over whether or not to leave him the picture. Now, hearing the smile in his voice, she was glad she did.

  “I wish I’d gave you something to remember me by.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Angie said. “I took a few pictures.”

  “I’ll make up for it,” Vince said, proceeding to change the subject before she had a chance to protest. “What’s it like in D.C.?”

  They continued with several minutes of effortless conversation before the encroaching thunderstorm arrived, chasing Angie back into the house. As he bid her goodnight, Vince promised to call again the following day. Angie caught herself hoping he meant every word he’d said.

  Oh, God… I think I’m in trouble. If this is a bad idea, I need you to make it clear to me really soon.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Angeli was disoriented, that much she knew.

  The forest around her was unfamiliar and lined with the long shadows of approaching dusk. The soft, loose soil beneath her feet was layered thick with decaying leaves that crackled in objection to her every movement. She was losing her footing, becoming more alarmed as she slid back toward the darkened ravine behind her.

  On instinct she flailed her arms out, desperate to catch hold of one of the trees. Her left palm slapped a thick trunk only to have the bark break away in her clawed hand. Her right hand caught a more spindly tree, which shuddered under her weight as she jerked to a halt. With a violent crack the rotted roots gave way, bringing the towering shaft hurtling down on top of her.

  Angie yelped. It was the first sound she’d managed to form in her throat, aside from the panicky breathing that drowned out everything else.

  Throwing her full weight to one side, she lunged headlong into the hillside. The musty scent of rotting leaves overtook her. The breeze from the fallen tree raised the hairs of her arm as it slapped against ground and began a slide into the depths of the narrow valley. Wasting no time or momentum, she grappled with the earth. The cool soil shifted under her, peeling away from the hill in a sheet with the effect of a small avalanche.

  Angie didn’t know how deep the ravine went, or what may lie at the bottom. Craning her neck to look behind her, she could only make out blurry shapes and shadows. Imminent danger was too thick for her to process how or why she’d ended up in this predicament. She splayed her limbs, praying one of them would encounter a sturdy object she might be able to cling to.

  Her right hand caught something solid and her entire body wrenched to a stop. The surge of dirt and leaves continued around and under her for several moments, distracting her from comprehending that she hadn’t so much grabbed onto something, but had instead been caught. A strong, warm force flexed around her wrist and she jerked her face back up to see the hand it belonged to.

  Her strained gaze followed upward and she was stunned to recognize Vincent’s face, set in a look of determination. With one arm latched around a tree trunk, his feet were planted against an upraised root. He’d extended himself fully in catching her in this state of suspension.

  “Reach!” he instructed.

  Angie grasped his forearm with her free hand and pulled her knees under her until she’d wedged the toes of her shoes into the ground. She unfolded her legs and stretched herself upward as he hoisted her up. He kept his anchoring arm in place and wrapped the other around her waist, pulling her back against him as he leaned into the tree.

  Angie grasped a handful of his shirt and turned her face into his shoulder, catching her breath. Disjointed questions formed in her mind as she closed her eyes, willing the situation to make sense. Vince’s breath came short and sharp as he kissed her temple.

  “It’s okay,” he whispered. His embrace tightened and he dropped his chin to nuzzle his smooth jaw against her cheek.

  Angie didn’t understand, but at least she was safe. Lifting her head she scanned Vince’s face, which was set with lines of concern. It occurred to her then that the light filtering through the surrounding trees was growing brighter. Dawn was approaching. Not that this minor revelation clarified anything. In the fog of her thoughts, she struggled to verbalize a question. She was interrupted by a sudden shift in his expression.

  “Come with me.” He kept his voice low and urgent. His arm slid from around her waist to grasp her hand.

  Then, he was moving. Sure-footed and calculating, he guided her along behind him as he followed the protruding root lines in a path running parallel with the ravine. She followed without hesitation.

  The misty daylight that shone over the top of the hill continued to grow brighter. She faltered often, forcing Vince to brace himself and correct her balance. The crest of the hill to her left seemed much closer as the incline lessened. To her right, she could finally see that a dry creek bed made up the floor of the ravine — a sheer drop of ten or twelve feet from where it cut into the earth.

  The erratic patterns of their labored breathing mingled with the soft thrashings of their feet through the long
dead foliage. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, it occurred to her that these were the only sounds to be heard. If it was dawn, shouldn’t there be birds, or at the very least, the occasional scolding squirrel? Her confusion deepened.

  Vince came to an abrupt halt, and Angie ran into his back. Vince swayed forward while still managing to hold his ground. He tightened his hold and pulled her around to his side, releasing her then so she was braced against the low V of a thick tree trunk. She followed his attention to the top of the hill. The silhouette of a person was moving toward them — male, judging by the stature.

  “Stay here. I’ll find you,” Vince said, turning away before she could protest.

  “But why? Who—” Angie choked out, watching as he placed himself between her and the backlit figure that was now charging down the incline.

  Vince shifted forward, stance widening as he lowered himself in preparation for the inevitable impact.

  A dull thud resounded through the trees as the attacker careened into him. The grappled pair spun in mid-fall before hitting the ground, their heads barely missing the tree where Angie stood. Locked together they rolled down the incline, churning up debris and grunting in exertion.

  Angie’s mind caught up to the sudden violence. “NO!” She reached out, too late to snatch at Vince’s clothing or otherwise slow them down. She gripped the tree trunk with one arm and swung herself around it to track them.

  Near the lip of the drop-off, Vince’s back slammed into a rotting stump, bringing them to a stunning halt. The assailant took immediate advantage, coming to his knees swinging. He’d landed several brutal punches before Angie went skidding after them and leaped onto the man’s back. Screaming in some mixture of rage and fear, she threw her weight to wrench him off Vince. Her back hit the ground, knocking all breath from her lungs as the attacker landed on top of her.

  Dazed, she fought for air as the speckled forest canopy filled her vision. It was soon blotted out by the ominous figure who was already getting back up. His face turned toward her as he shook off her rubbery hold and stood. Shock surged through Angie’s uncooperative body.