Road Trip

by Andie M. Long

  ‘What would?’

  ‘Tell me about one of the much worse things you’ve seen while you check my bottom.’

  Felix takes his wallet from his pocket and I watch as he lifts out a condom.

  ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ I shout. ‘You don’t need a condom to look at my bum. Are you trying to take advantage of me?’

  He slips the condom back in his wallet and takes out a credit card. ‘I’m moving it, so I can get to this card, which I need to help me take out the sting.’ His eyes narrow. ‘I don’t need to take advantage of you. Women beg me to bed them. I don’t have to attack them. I’m not a fucking rapist.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I panicked. Please, Felix, can you look at my bum?’

  A sentence I never thought I’d say.

  Felix uses the car door to shield me a little and then yanks me hastily over his knee. He takes the hem of my skirt and lifts it up. I hear the intake of breath.

  ‘Shit, you have been stung.’

  ‘No shit, Sherlock.’ I shout in frustration. I cannot believe he’s looking at my bare arse right now. This is too cringy.

  ‘You can be a real moody cow; do you know that?’ He tells me, giving my pain free arse cheek a little slap. ‘Bad girl.’

  I yelp. ‘I swear to fucking God, Felix! Try that again and I’ll fucking kill you in your sleep!’

  ‘Okay, okay.’

  He gets the sting out using his card, which is obviously his revenge for my mood. Tears spring back into my eyes, but it already feels a bit better.

  ‘All done,’ he says clapping his hands together. ‘We’ll get some antiseptic ointment when we get to the supermarket. It’s a little swollen but hopefully it’ll go down in a few hours.’

  We get back in the car. I have to face the journey sat in a weird side on position as it's too painful to sit on my butt. I end up with a cramped neck. We eventually get to a supermarket after two and a bit hours and Felix, determined to drive all the way because of my “disability”, insists we go to get food, drink, and cream.

  ‘Found it,’ he says, holding the antiseptic cream up for me. ‘Now Dr Montague says to bend over while I apply it.’

  I grab the tube off him. ‘In your fucking dreams. I can do it myself. That will be the first and last time you see my arse.’

  We load up on reduced price sandwiches, cheap crisps, drinks, and a couple of reduced pastries. Once we’ve paid, I take my antiseptic cream and call into the supermarket toilets to freshen up. I use my handbag mirror to check out the swollen lump on my ass cheek. Talk about sexy. Only then I remember, I don’t need to be sexy. I’m with the manwhore. I need to repel him. Showing him my arse probably wasn’t the best way to communicate that.

  On the way out, I buy insect repellent to keep bees away from my body and hope it has the extra special effect to stop Felix from bugging me.

  We eventually arrive at a budget hotel at quarter past ten. This has been a long-arsed trip, well, actually a swollen-arsed trip. We arrive at the reception and ask for a twin room.

  ‘We only have one double room left. There’s been a convention nearby,’ the woman says, uninterested, not even making eye contact.

  Felix takes over. ‘That’s fine, we’ll take it.’ He looks at me, ‘Got a problem with that, sweetheart?’

  I shake my head, ‘No, honeybun.’

  When we get in the room and dump our belongings, I turn to him with a hand on my hip. I need to be strong and firm about this. Kind of like his biceps. No Katy, don’t get distracted.

  ‘So, what are the sleeping arrangements? Because there’s no way I’m sharing a bed with a manwhore.’

  He rolls his eyes before dropping down backwards onto the bed. ‘Sleep in the car then.’

  ‘Pardon?’

  He fixes me with a death glare. ‘Sleep. In. The. Car.’

  ‘I heard what you said. I just can’t believe you’d suggest that. What a gentleman. I thought you’d offer to sleep on the couch. That’s what you said before.’

  ‘But I’m not a gentleman, am I?’ He spits out. ‘As you keep saying, I’m a manwhore. So maybe you’d be safer locked in your car, so I don’t come over all amorous in the night and shag you senseless.’ He points to the couch. ‘And my six-foot body does not fit on that. I’m sleeping in the bed.’

  ‘But that’s not fair!’ I whine. I would have thought he’d have taken pity on me, what with my arse injury.

  ‘There’s room for two. We can stick to our own sides. I don’t see the problem.’

  ‘Well, I’ll take the couch.’ I grumble. Rather that than give him the wrong idea.

  I start to unpack my things, laying my interview outfit over the back of the wardrobe door.

  ‘I’ll have to get my suit dry cleaned,’ he grumbles, looking at the ice-cream stain. ‘I hope they can get it done for the morning.’ He picks up the telephone and calls reception. After making his request, his face darkens, ‘You can’t? Four pm cut off? Okay, thanks anyway.’ He puts down the phone. ‘Fuck. They can’t do it.’

  ‘Hey, give it here and I’ll sponge it off for you.’ I offer. ‘I was always cleaning up after Dick.’

  Felix snorts.

  I narrow my eyes, ‘I can always withdraw my offer.’

  ‘No, please. Try to get the stain out. It doesn’t give a great first impression to arrive with a white stain on your jacket.’

  ‘Could have been worse, could have been on your trousers,’ I quip.

  ‘Except I also clean up after my dick,’ He quips back.

  I walk into the bathroom shaking my head.

  When I get in there, I realise I’ve offered to miraculously clean his clothes when I have no wash powder, fabric conditioner, or a washing machine. Instead, I get my bath sponge from my wash bag, apply a little strawberry shortcake shower gel and rub at the offending article. It seems to do the trick. I gently rinse off the soap and then having rinsed out and squeezed my sponge I give it another last gentle rub and hang it over the shower curtain rail.

  I come out of the bathroom looking triumphant. ‘All sorted.’ I tell him.

  He smiles back gratefully. ‘Thanks.’

  I stare at the clock. It’s now eleven pm, but I’m not the slightest bit tired and in fact, having been cooped up in the car most of the day I actually want to go outside.

  ‘Shall we go have a wander around York centre?’ I ask Felix. ‘I know the bars are closed but we could get some fresh air and wander down the cobbles.’

  ‘Why not?’ he says with a casual shrug. ‘I’ll just change into something more comfortable.’ He strips off in front of my eyes down to his boxer shorts in what feels like milliseconds. The bloke just does not give a shit. I would have excused myself and gone to the bathroom but oh no, not the manwhore. I find my eyes keep looking at his toned biceps, those broad shoulders, and that 'v' that dips into his boxers. Damn, that man is sexy.

  I look for the rumoured snake tattoo and instead just find a British Bulldog. It's… well it's cute. Hardly the sexy snake I was imagining though.

  ‘I like your tattoo,’ I say, to cover up staring at him as he shrugs on some jeans and a tee.

  ‘Thanks. It was a dare when I was eighteen. Right, I’m ready.’

  I realise that I stood watching him dress when I should have been getting changed myself. I head to the bathroom and also put on jeans and a tee.

  ‘Let’s go.’

  We reach the centre and stroll around looking in the shop windows and feeling sad that we’ve missed out on an alcoholic beverage. We walk down the length of The Shambles, admiring the cobbled streets and I window shop a little. When we reach the bottom, there’s a crowd of people gathered.

  ‘What’s happening?’ I ask Felix, my eyes wide with interest.

  ‘Erm.’ He places his fingers to his temples, ‘nope, my psychic abilities have switched off. Damn the fuckers, how embarrassing.’

  This man is bloody infuriating. I’m beginning to think begging Dick to take me back would be pref
erable to Felix-torture. Maybe I could enter a polyamorous relationship with Dick and Vic? Right, now I feel sick. God, I’m a poet and I didn’t know it.

  I decide to embrace my new ‘me’ and head toward the crowd. I’m getting brave, or stupid. Let’s go with brave.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Shouts Felix to my back.

  ‘Daring myself to be brave.’ I shout back.

  When I get to the crowd, there’s a bloke dressed in olden day clothing. ‘Cutting it fine, love. You wanting to join the tour? It’s only a fiver.’

  ‘What tour?’ I ask him.

  ‘The ghost tour.’ He looks at me strangely.

  Felix hands over a tenner. ‘Yep, that’s for the two of us.’ Then he stands at the back.

  I walk over to him. ‘What are you doing? We’re on a budget here.’

  ‘We need to make sure that while we budget, we also have some fun, otherwise this is going to be a bloody long week. I can’t expect you to get your arse cheek stung every night for my entertainment.’

  I thump his arm.

  ‘Violence.’ He shouts out. ‘Help me everyone, she’s always hitting me.’

  ‘Shut up. Oh my God.’ I look at the faces around me, some foreheads furrowing. ‘He’s joking. He has a stupid sense of humour.’ We start walking along.

  The supposed ghost tour turns out to be a history lesson: a long-arsed, boring as fuck history lesson. ‘We could have bought wine, and shared chips,’ I torment Felix. ‘Instead, I’m bored shitless.’

  ‘That so? Then I think it’s time for a dare,’ says Felix, a mischievous glint in his eye just visible from the street lights.

  ‘Bring it.’

  He whispers in my ear.

  ‘Love it.’ I tell him and then I instruct him on what we’re doing after the dare.

  The tour guide takes us to a particularly dark corner with some derelict houses and weaves a tale about hauntings and ghost sightings.

  I walk over to an emo guy who looks to be in his twenties. He nods at me as I stand next to him.

  ‘You can see me?’ I say in pretend shock.

  ‘Y-yes. Why would I not see you?’ He asks me in confusion.

  I turn to the others and shout out. ‘Can you all see me? I’m a ghost. Can you all hear me?’ Then I emit an ear-piercing scream that none of them were expecting. Several members of the crowd emit their own screams.

  I cackle with laughter just before me and Felix leg it down one of the side roads leaving the rest of them to their boring tour.

  ‘That was epic,’ Felix laughs. ‘Well played.’

  ‘Yeah, well tonight I say fuck it,’ I tell him. ‘After that crap I need a beer. Let’s head into Tesco Metro and treat ourselves to the cheapest shit they have.’

  We change into our pjs as soon as we get back to the hotel. I go into the bathroom again to save my modesty. I leave on my bra and have on long-sleeved and long-legged pyjamas that keep me well covered up.

  On exit I find Felix has left on his t-shirt and changed into some joggers. We enjoy our beers and finally the day catches up and tiredness hits.

  ‘It’s okay for you to share the bed, seriously.’ Felix offers.

  ‘I’m fine over here.’ I say from the couch.

  Drinks drunk, teeth brushed, I lie on the sofa with an extra duvet from the wardrobe over myself and a spare pillow beneath my head.

  ‘Night, Kitty Kat,’ says Felix. ‘It was actually cool to have some company today, even if we didn’t get a job from it.’

  Is he giving me a compliment?

  ‘We have tomorrow,’ I tell him. ‘I think tomorrow will be better.’

  Sometimes I should shut the fuck up.

  Katy

  The first problem I have is the couch. There’s a spring I’d not noticed when I’d been sitting on it, but it’s very noticeable now. No matter what position I try it's sticking in my abdomen. Then of course there’s my bee sting, the pain of which is lessening but still present.

  I clock watch until it gets to three forty-five. We’ve set the alarm for seven to give us plenty of time to have breakfast and get ready. Just over three hours. Felix basically seemed to turn over and fall asleep immediately. He’s facing the wall away from where I would lay. Maybe, I should slide in the bed after all and try to catch some zzzzz’s?

  I have a quick wee and then slide under the warm, toasty duvet, keeping right to the edge so as not to touch him. God, this mattress is like heaven compared to that sofa. I look one final time at the hotel’s digital alarm clock set for the morning and finally sink into a blissful sleep.

  ‘What the fuck? Katyyyyy! We’re going to be late.’

  I hear it from the floor because as Felix reached for the clock he knocked me out of bed.

  THUD.

  I bang my mouth on the edge of the bedside table on my way down.

  ‘Arrrrrrggghhhhh.’ I clutch my mouth. Oh my fucking God, the pain.

  The light goes on and Felix peers down at me from the bed. ‘Katy. What are you doing on the floor?’

  ‘You fucking knocked me out of bed, cretin.’ I mumble through my hand.

  ‘But you weren’t in the bed.’ He looks so adorably confused right now.

  ‘I got in at four am. I couldn’t sleep.’

  He raises his hands, ‘Well, how was I to know that? Anyway, it’s eleven am, and it takes twenty minutes to get there. My interview is at twelve and yours one-thirty, right?’

  ‘Right.’

  He grimaces. ‘Hopefully the swelling on your lip will have gone down by then.’

  I feel at my lip. Shit, it’s all puffy. Fucking fabulous. Hopefully by the time I get there they’ll have turned into Kylie Jenner lips. Miracles do happen, right?

  ‘How the hell did we sleep in? We set the alarm.’ I peer up at it and see it’s flashing. It had definitely gone off. ‘Goddamn it.’ I sigh.

  ‘What?’

  I pick up the clock and turn up the radio volume until we can hear it. ‘The volume was all the way down.’ Some funny bastard obviously thought that would be hilarious.

  ‘Well, come on. We need to shift arse.’

  We get ready quickly, pack up all our stuff, pay for the room, and head to the car. Felix insists on carrying the luggage, so I grab his jacket from the bathroom and place it on the backseat, so it doesn’t get creased. I keep mine on, which I regret after ten minutes of driving as it’s a warm day and my air con is not the best. I feel sweat slick between my breasts. Lovely.

  ‘I can’t believe we didn’t even have time to have the free coffee and biscuits from the room.’ I groan. They’re my favourite part about staying in a hotel.

  ‘Oh, here.’ He reaches down the side of the car and flings a wrapped biscuit at me. ‘Breakfast.’

  ‘My hero,’ I fake gush. ‘Can you unwrap it for me? Bit difficult while I’m driving.’

  ‘God, you’re such a Princess.’

  I pull up at the school and we walk into the reception and give our names.

  ‘You’re very early Mr Montague.’ The receptionist says.

  ‘I know, but we travelled down together. I’ll just hang around, it’s not worth going anywhere else.’

  We’re directed to the waiting room and I nervously take a seat.

  ‘You’re like a jelly, woman. Good job you didn’t have a coffee this morning.’ Felix says, grabbing my shaking thigh to try to steady it.

  ‘I know. I just need a job. Yesterday was a shambles. I’ve got to do better today.’

  ‘Miss Cornish?’

  ‘Good luck.’ he tells me with a wink.

  The headteacher, a Mr Smith, introduces himself and his fellow interviewer, another teacher called Mrs Ross. I reach out to shake their hands in turn. I’m shaking like a bloody leaf. Shit, I think I have hypoglycaemia from not eating enough. I do occasionally get it if I’m hungry.

  Then I notice a side-eye pass between them and I remember my bruised mouth. I point to it. ‘I fell out of bed this morning. Hit my mouth on the be
dside table.’

  ‘That must have been painful.’ Mrs Ross says with concern.

  ‘It was. Especially as I wasn’t expecting it.’

  ‘Well, I don’t think anyone expects to fall out of bed, do they?’ She smiles, clearly finding me amusing.

  ‘It helps if the person you’re sharing with knows you’re there.’ I ramble on. Please, God, get my nervous mouth to shut up. I always ramble when I’m nervous.

  ‘Erm…’ Mrs Ross looks at the papers on her desk.

  ‘Let’s start the interview, shall we?’ Mr Smith interrupts.

  I think the interview goes quite well and I’m hopeful I might be in a chance of getting the job. York is such a pretty place, I know I would enjoy living here. The only thing that’s annoyed me is I’ve had to keep sitting to one side because of my bee sting. That and the fact I can’t stop shaking. I really must get something to eat after this interview. I wonder if they’ll allow me to eat in the school canteen?

  The interview over, Mrs Ross tells me she’ll escort me to the door.

  Just outside she pulls me to one side. ‘You don’t have to be afraid. You can tell me if you’re being abused.’

  ‘Pardon?’ I ask, completely startled. She thinks I’m being bloody abused?

  She smiles kindly. ‘You’re shaking like a leaf. You have a swollen mouth. There’s obviously some injury stopping you from sitting properly, and you said your other half didn’t know you were in the bed. I’m guessing he makes you sleep on the floor. I had a friend like that once. She got help. Started a brand-new life. I guess he hit you, right? That’s why you have the swollen lip. I can get you a number. Ring them.’

  I grab her arm. ‘No. Seriously. Felix did not hit me. I snuck into his bed in the early hours. He didn’t know I was there.’

  ‘You snuck into your partner's bed?’ She questions. ‘Don’t you see how crazy that sounds. Most couples share.’

  ‘We’re just sharing a room. We’re attending interviews together. It’s a long story.’

  She doesn’t look convinced. ‘Well, I’m here if you need me, if you need someone to talk to. If you “accidentally” fall out of bed again.’