Anna's Road Trip - Pt. 01

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Anna ends up on a road trip with a childhood friend.
6.7k words
4.67
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16

Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 11/21/2023
Created 02/20/2023
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JekyllL
JekyllL
45 Followers

My name is Anna and I'm a total failure.

Okay, maybe it's a bit of a dramatization but at 24 almost 25 years of age, let's just say I expected more than what I currently have. I wasn't asking for much, just following what everyone called common sense: do well in school and you'll get a job. Get a job and you can afford a place to live. Settle down and be set for the rest of your life in happiness.

Yeah, well, I'm not sure if you've taken a look out the window lately but good jobs are hard to come by. A nice place to live is doubly so. And you know what? I'm flexible! I'm open minded! If the job isn't that great, I'll grit my teeth through it to pay the bills. If the place isn't that nice, I'll patch it up a bit and live with less heating and no AC. My momma called me "resilient", which is PC parent-speak translating to "stop whining" - I am very good at not whining. I'll just take the next best thing.

Except at this point, I don't have a 'next best thing'. My roommate, my 'trusty' reliable roommate Sammy (yes, I am using your name) decided to move in with her boyfriend of six months. Okay, great, years of camaraderie just down the drain because some guy with a great dick comes along and asks you to live with him. Glad to see 'bros before hoes' doesn't apply to us, feminism is alive and well here ladies and gentlemen. And for the record, I am not bitter at all.

And because one shit thing can only ever be followed up with a second shit thing, I was 'let go' from my job. Actually, my contract was not renewed, which technically means I was not re-hired but how does that even fucking matter when at the end of the day I don't have a job? So let me spell this out for you: I am going to be paying full rent on something I paid splitsies for years, with money I don't have from a job I'm not employed in.

So, of course, the first thing I did was freak out about it. There were maybe three hours of lamenting about my life, two hours imagining what living on the streets would be like, then two hours of trying to muster up the courage to tell my parents. I took a quick snack break and went right back to uselessly ruminating about this shit. I dedicated about 30 minutes to pose an imaginary conversation with my parents on how I am absolutely not moving back in with them, complete with hysterics and crying. I am a full grown 25 year old woman, dammit, I will be taken seriously.

I called a girlfriend that was emphatically not Sammy and begged her to come live with me, which would mean her moving out from the place she lived in with her boyfriend. Then it struck me - not only was I miserably broke and going to be homeless, I was also single. Painfully, hopelessly, uselessly single. The realization was so shocking that I barely heard my friend Lindsey go, "Hey, did you call James?"

Anyone who knew me long enough also knew James. We were two peas in a pod back in elementary school, despite all my other friends being girls and all his other friends being boys. We were this social bridge between the groups and did all these stupid, "Heyyy does your friend Bobby like Sarah?" exchanges for our friends up until high school when people started growing the balls to ask themselves. Everyone thought we were dating in high school to the point we didn't even bother correcting them. We even chose to go to the same university halfway across the country from our hometown.

And then... university happened, I guess. I was dating this guy in first year and I guess I didn't make it a priority to hang out with friends. Well damn, I guess I'm a total fucking hypocrite to shit on Sammy. It wasn't like we didn't talk; we both got caught up in school, each made our own friends within our own area of study. Just the classic pattern of friendships being put on the back shelf.

I had maybe three hundred reasons not to ask for his help, the first and foremost being: it felt shitty. Like I wasn't really a great friend for the last five to seven years and now I want to ask for help? And wouldn't it be weird if he had a girlfriend right now? How was he even going to help me? I didn't even know I was saying all this aloud until Lindsey gave a really annoyed,"Why. Don't. You. Just. Fucking. Ask. Him?"

So I called him. I did it immediately after hanging up with Lindsey before I could chicken out. I almost chickened out on the second ring but then he picked up and I had to commit. I did the most awkward thing I could do and did this whole, "Oh yeah... just calling to say hi..." Which he could tell was 1000% bullshit since I always just text him if I ever communicate with him. Which was rarely, if ever.

"Annie, what's wrong?" he asked.

Annie. He called me that back in elementary school and I wouldn't let anyone else call me that. All at once, I thought about how much I missed him and how horrible I was to fuck up our friendship like that. I thought about how lonely I was and how we used to talk about everything and anything. Suddenly, I was overwhelmed by this congestion of emotions right at my throat and I just bawled.

Between sobs I could hear him get more and more agitated on the other end. In the end, he just goes "stay where you are," and hangs up while I'm blowing snot into a wet Kleenex. Before I know it, he's at my door, ringing the bell and sounding more stressed than ever. I opened the door before the neighbors complained; just seeing him standing there made me cry harder.

He looked different. He wasn't the lanky, soft-spoken boy I knew for most of my life; he looked bulkier and scruffier now. He sported a beard and short cropped hair instead of letting it grow into a mop that covered his eyes. His brow crinkled in concern as he tried to console me. At one point I tried to point at his beard and go "WTF is that?" but instead just jabbed his chin and cried harder; he thought I was growing psychotic.

It probably wasn't far from the truth. I only remember reaching for more Kleenex to re-empty my snotty nose. When I was less congested with my own tears I realized I was sitting on the floor in front of the couch with my head on James' knee. He steadily stroked my hair until I calmed down. When I found my voice again, I told him everything, one by one. And like he did when we were younger, he listened in total silence and focus until I was finished. I also apologized for ignoring him and then calling him out of the blue in a moment of weakness.

It felt like a physical weight was removed from my chest. I don't know how to explain it because conceptually, I knew I was still fucked. Maybe that was James' magic - you think that things will be better simply because he knows. He got up and got me some water and sat back down to ask me what I was going to do next.

"We-ell, I think I can start off with... asking why you are morphing into a hipster," I said stuffily, reaching out to tug at the hair of his beard.

He gave me a glare and swatted me away. "I feel you're doing alright if you have the energy to comment on my facial hair."

"I'm sorry," I let out a watery laugh. "You look good with it. Older and different. But good."

He had this funny look on his face (I actually don't know, he was hiding it behind his beard) and he said, "You haven't changed at all."

His comment made me all sober. I didn't take it in a bad way, but it got me thinking about how I felt like I was still this dumb freshman with no direction in life. At the end of the train of thought, I heard myself just say what I had been thinking about the whole time. "I think I should just move back in with my parents."

There was this really long silence and then he goes, "Huh, that's funny. I need to head back out east as well."

--

James' family was one of those outdoorsy ones and not just for the sake of looking like they could afford to do all the things they did. Which was strange because you would think the eldest son of an athletic family would immediately be some super alpha sports bro who tries to shoehorn hockey into every corner of his identity. But James was not like that - he only enjoyed hiking most out of everything his family roped him into doing, and it was because he loved being in nature. It was natural that he also liked camping. Thinking back on this, I could only fault myself for not expecting him to grow a stereotypical beard to match that part of his personality.

Anyway, university halfway across the country did not seem to dampen that enthusiasm, because for some insane reason, James had agreed to do a cross country camping trip with some buddies of his. I'm sorry, did you go back and reread that? Because I said Cross Country Camping, which is an insane string of words to be put together.

If you haven't noticed by now, my family is not outdoorsy. In fact my mom has done several rants on how much she dislikes camping and thinks it's literally a regression on civilization and that shitting in a hole in the woods is the ultimate insult to human intelligence. We always live squarely in the middle of a bustling city - my parents would rather breath in a lungful of car exhaust before pitching a tent.

So I'm sitting in my living room, listening to my childhood best friend talk about this almost two week long trip in a car with two other dudes. I have this utterly confused look on my extremely swollen face as he's explaining this blog series and tourism funding and camping guide. It was honestly a great distraction but at some point I had to stop him and just go, "What the actual fuck are you talking about?"

"I am talking about how you should come with us," he said. "You can go back to Halifax with us."

"That is... the stupidest idea I've ever heard." Of course I rejected it outright. It was such a harebrained idea I didn't give it the courtesy of consideration. Of all the methods of going back out east (if I was going to do it at all), going by car with not one, not two, but three guys was definitely on the bottom of that list. And not only that, I would have to sleep in a tent for the majority of it? I don't even have a tent!

"I know. Die hard city girl. Three gross men in a car. But Zach said he could use another hand to organize and write the material - as in he'll pay for it. Kirk has photography covered and I'm just a guide to help Zach on the research so you can fill that niche."

I hated to admit it but I perked up at the sound of money. If I sold everything, I would have barely enough to fly back to Halifax. If I could be employed over the trip back home, I would have a little extra to try to get back on my feet. It wouldn't entirely be a walk of shame if I did that.

"Aaand I thought that the week and a half traveling and camping would be good for you," James added. "You'll get a chance to think."

"Dammit, is this just some weird 'convert Anna into a camper' project for you?" I groused. "You really have turned into a hipster."

He laughed and told me to believe whatever I wanted. I had about three days to think about it before it was too late. Three days to throw caution into the wind and leave Thunder Bay to go back home in defeat. At first, it was crazy to even think about accepting it, but the more I thought about it, the more appealing it was. First and foremost it would mean spending more time with James. Secondly, I would go back home with him and maybe we could go back to being two peas in a pod. Thirdly, I would have more money than either staying and toughing it out or scraping my last savings together to travel back myself.

So after three days, I said yes.

--

A week after saying yes, I'm sitting in a van and staring out the window, wondering how the fuck I got here. Which was the most redundant thought in the world because I know how I got here, but a part of my soul was still heaving incredulously and clamoring to leave my body to a more sensible host.

I had spent the first hour of my trip talking to the two strangers in the car with me and James, catching James in the driver's seat shooting glances at me from the rear view mirror. I had hoped I could telepathically send him a message. What the hell did I let you talk me into?

Zach did most of the talking - he sat next to me in the back passenger seat with a laptop on his lap. He reminded me of what James used to be like - soft-spoken, lean, with messy hair falling over his eyes. We went through the usual 'hey nice to meet you' and 'oh James and I go way back' and went on to talking about their project. Basically they were blogging their cross country trip and stopping by the major camping sites with the intent of recommending them. Zach worked for a tourism company and the project is partially research for them. He was very polite and patiently explained how I could contribute and how much he would pay me for my time.

The other guy, Kirk, sat at the front passenger seat in front of Zach and barely said anything to me besides 'hi' and the occasional grunt. He was heavier than both Zach and James and had a strong jawline and short, cropped hair like James. Zach explained that Kirk was a freelance photographer - while he was part of this project, he was also going to use this trip to broaden his range.

A stray thought entered my mind and sat there, refusing to leave. Zach was Ghost of James Past and Kirk was Ghost of James Future and James was in transition between the two.

"I'm just here to drive and take in the sights," James said cheerfully at the end.

I went to give him a 'really?' look in the mirror and he winked at me. I tried not to smile as I went back to looking out the window. We did a lot of flirting back in high school, mostly ironically because everyone thought we were an item. We made sure people saw us winking at each other; it was just some stupid game of ours.

But my god I would be lying if I said my stomach didn't flutter.

James? Making my stomach flutter? I chalked it up to suffering shock from the past month's events. It didn't help that I kept catching him glancing at me in the mirror. Furthermore, the long hours of driving just prompted me to just keep thinking of how James just jumped to my rescue, like always. And that I just reflexively trusted him on this crazy idea. And god dammit, he does look good with a beard.

We drove for a good four hours after and I fell into the trap of sleeping through most of it. We arrived at our first campsite at the White Lake Provincial Park. Both Zach and Kirk went off to collect information and images while James was stuck with me to help setting things up for the night. Because I was their unexpected plus one, they weren't able to pack an extra tent for me, which I was kind of happy about since the 'tents' that Zach and Kirk have look more like polyester caskets. James has a bigger tent and the arrangement the guys worked out was that they would rotate so they could share the bigger tent. Because I was tent-less, James told me that I should be able to sleep in the van in the extra sleeping bag he gave me.

After we had everything organized, James gestured towards the trails sprawling out from the campgrounds. There was nothing appealing at all at the idea of going hiking after I had four luxurious hours of car napping. However I wanted to know where all the washrooms and facilities were, just in case.

We went on this long loop around the campgrounds, just barely brushing the edge of the deeper woods surrounding it. I found an acorn cap and showed it to James.

"Remember you used to collect these?" I asked.

"You remember the weirdest things," he said.

"I remember the games we used to play with these. Something with flipping these off a table. And we made tiny sailboats out of them. We got so bored at summer camp." I laughed.

We went off into the trees rummaging around like kids again for acorn caps and pine cones, on our hands and knees scrounging around like squirrel wannabes. We piled our treasure onto a bench to admire our findings. I caught his little smile as we brushed dirt off our 'treasure' and it made me freeze up.

"I... apologized enough for the past five years, right?" I heard myself say. "You do know how bad I feel about just ditching you, right?"

"You did and I know," James said quietly.

"It was... life was just different," I kept going. "New town. New school. Got in a relationship. I got caught up with all this new stuff - "

"Annie, it's fine," James said. "It takes two people to participate in any relationship, even friends. I didn't exactly keep in touch either."

There was a long pause as we fiddled with the acorn caps while sitting across each other on the picnic table. "You know, if you said something, I would have come running," I said. "Just like you did for me."

He was very still, then he sighed. He looked like he wanted to say something, but then shook his head. "It's getting dark, we should head back."

We decided to leave our 'treasure' behind, but I secretly stashed one in my pocket. An acorn cap, the first one I found. The sky was dimming quickly and we had wandered a bit off from the camping site so we had a long walk back. Instead of chatting amiably like we were before, we walked side by side in silence amidst a gloomy forest. For a moment, I wondered if I said something wrong.

"Honestly, I was upset you were dating," he blurted out suddenly. We stopped in the middle of the trail. It was dark enough to hide his expression. "I was upset at myself. Because I liked you for a really long time. And... I wanted to tell you when we graduated high school."

Shocked, I didn't know what to say. Didn't know what to think. My heart was pounding in my chest for some reason.

"I chickened out and I thought it would be no big deal since we were going to the same university but then you started dating someone. So..." he awkwardly trailed. "Yeah, I wanted some distance from you because... I kinda hated myself."

"James..."

"Just don't feel guilty about all that because I kinda stopped talking to you, too. Like it's all in the past and stuff, that's what I wanted to say... we're both different and we've moved on so..." his voice was getting increasingly more flustered. "It's just... damn, I shouldn't have... "

It was like awkward James emerged from his sophisticated adult shell all of a sudden. Encouraged by the shroud of the evening forest, I stepped close to him and fumbled around until I had a grip on the front of his shirt. I pulled him close until I could feel his breath against my face and I kissed him in the dark.

He tentatively kissed me back, his arm curling around my waist to loop me in close to him. His lips were hot and he tasted like...

He broke it off before I could decide. He actually held my shoulders with his hands and pushed us apart at literal arm's length. "This... isn't a good time for this," he said breathlessly.

And I was 100% gonna argue with him because it was probably 5 years past due when we were supposed to do this. But then I heard the chorus of crickets behind me, reminding me of where we were and why we were there. "You're right. We can talk when we get back to Halifax," I said.

I thought I saw him grin. "Promise?"

"Promise. We should get back; aren't we on dinner duty?"

--

If you are a city dweller like me and you've never gone camping, lemme tell you all the wonders you can enjoy: first of all, you'll need a fire or else you'll freeze your ass off even if it isn't that cold during the day. Then this fire will constantly blow smoke right into your eyeballs and possibly give you eyeball cancer, who knows! Third of all, it's lots of fun to roast marshmallows, as clichéd as it is, but it is absolutely soul crushing to watch it go up in flames. Lastly, if you happen to have any sort of unresolved sexual tension with someone there, you are not going to have a good time.

I spent most of the time staring at the fire, trying to burn out the memory of kissing James just moments before. James, on the other hand, seemed perfectly normal socializing with the other two. Zach made this spiked hot chocolate which really helped me cope.

JekyllL
JekyllL
45 Followers
12