Chapter 5
The water pelting against my skin brings everything back into focus.
I’m still impressed that we fit everything into this van, and that I can take a hot shower in the middle of Wyoming on the side of the road.
Well…okay. Hot is an exaggeration, but it’s not cold and I’m working on my gratitude right now.
Maintaining my skincare routine is important to me while on the road, which might seem vain, but nothing feels better than a cool serum after a day of riding in the sun.
I have to be better about sunscreen this year, because the helmet tan line isn’t as flattering as some riders like to think it is.
On the other side of the shower wall—if you could call it that—I hear Reid making lunch.
This wall is so thin I swear I can feel his throaty breaths as he pulls down the cast iron pan. It’s tucked up in the corner cabinet and it’s deceptively hard to get down. I chuckle at his struggle.
The lack of space between us while I’m naked in the shower is nauseating.
I don’t love being naked while he’s so close to me. But it’s not like I can explain to him that it’s hard to be naked in the same van as my crush. It shouldn’t be weird. I don’t know why I’m making it weird.
As awkward as this trip has already been, it’s a relief having Reid with me. Simply knowing he’s here puts me at ease. I can’t even imagine how scary being on the side of an abandoned Wyoming road would be right now if I were alone.
Finishing my skincare, I brush out my hair and let it fall across my shoulders. It’s blonder than usual from spending so much time outside, and I love it. I’ve always been dirty blonde—emphasis on the dirty.
Aster, my twin, has the same shade naturally, but she gets hers highlighted just about every other week. As much as I judge her for the maintenance, it does look good. Mine always resembles the bottom of a creek bed. Now it’s like the bottom of a creek bed on an exceptionally sunny day.
There was a brief period, during high school, where I attempted to dye my hair too. I wanted my mom to play with my strands and compliment me just like she did with Aster. But it never did happen. No matter how hard I try, they always prefer Aster. It seems like most people feel that way.
My new outfit is almost identical to what I had on before.
A butter yellow flannel with deep green accents, black biker shorts, a white tank top, and my go-to driving shoes—Ugg Tasman slippers.
It’s a combination that works, so I simply repeat it over and over again in various color combinations.
Layers are needed in the mountains. It’s hot as hell right now, but it’s bound to be chilly by nightfall.
Sliding the bathroom pocket door open, I step out, braiding my hair. Reid is staring at me wide-eyed as he says, “I’m making grilled cheeses.”
He’s paying more attention to me than the hot pan. The distinct smell of burning fills the van. I’ll have to smell that for the rest of the week.
I loop my hair tie around the ends of my hair and thump Reid on his shoulder. “I think you’re burning the grilled cheese.”
Reid scrambles to peel the melting cheddar from the cast iron. “Oh. Shit.”
Steam and smoke dance around inside of Willa. I cough as I move to open one of the windows. Reid works on plating the sandwiches, and I notice that he takes the more burnt one for himself. How thoughtful of him.
My stomach grumbles right on cue.
Reid’s voice startles me as I set the wood plank across the storage bench so that we can actually sit down to eat. He looks at me seriously. “Why don’t you ever leave it down?”
His question kind of shocks me. Why does he care what I do with my hair? I ignore him and continue setting up the miniature dining table that also happens to double as my bed.
“It looks pretty when it’s down,” he starts, clutching the back of his neck. “Well, it looks pretty when it’s braided too.”
I want him to keep going, to hear what else he finds pretty about me, but I don’t have that confidence. Instead, I grab a paper plate and my grilled cheese out of his hand. If I stuff my face, then I don’t have to reply to him.
He finally sits down, and I can feel his elbow almost touching my own.
We don’t have a choice but to sit this close to each other.
Willa is spacious, but at the end of the day, she’s still a van.
It feels so domestic sitting like this, almost like we’re living together. I guess we are, in a roundabout way.
“Thanks for making lunch.”
His mouth is so full of cheese I can barely hear him. “It’s the least I could do after the incident.” He waggles his eyebrows as he says it.
I’m sure we’ll end up having a million more ‘incidents’ before this road trip is over. The grilled cheese is truly divine. It helps me forgive him for getting us off track so early on in the trip.
I offer him a halfhearted compliment. “This is really good.”
He bows. “Thank you Adelaide. May I bother you for a spot of coffee?”
“Oh, so now you appreciate the espresso machine?”
Reid had insisted we could get by on instant coffee, but I was insistent that we needed a way to make decent lattes.
“Yes, Addie. You were right once again. Are you happy?”
“I am in fact.” A proud smile covers my face.
He grabs my dish and starts cleaning up from lunch. If he wasn’t with me I’d have to do all of this alone. We’ve already fallen into such natural roles out here, and we’ve only been gone for a few hours. He’s clanging forks and spoons around in the sink while I work on the lattes.
I scoured the internet for the tiniest espresso machine. It works pretty well, but it does take an age to heat up. It takes so long that Reid is done cleaning by the time it finally begins to whir. I shift back and forth, biting my lip as I wait for the pull to be extracted.
Reid is up in the driver’s seat checking who knows what. For someone who doesn’t seem to care about his own vehicle, he sure is obsessed with mine.
There isn’t much ice to spare. There’s a tiny ice tray in my mini freezer, but it’s only enough for about one drink per day.
Reid is damn lucky I’m kind—I sacrifice all of it for him.
Now my water will be lukewarm until we find a semi-populated area with a full service gas station.
I’ll make him pump the gas and empty the trash as penance.
“Here you go.”
Reid takes the drink and puts it in the cup holder as if he is going to stay for a while. The soft leather of the passenger seat creaks beneath me as I nudge him. “Shouldn’t you get back to your van?”
He swallows hard. “Uh yeah, I guess we should get on the road.”
Reid hops out of the van. Climbing over the center console, I take his place and readjust the seat back to my height. Reid only sat here for two minutes, why did he have to customize it to his size? Part of me wants to withhold his coffee for that.
“Where do you wanna stop next?”
“We could camp outside of Jackson and try to find a hot spring?”
“You don’t wanna go downtown with the boys?”
Of course he wants to go out with his friends.
I’m not sure why he’s pretending to debate it.
Reid knows people all over the U.S. and somehow seems like he’s best friends with all of them.
Jackson, Wyoming is one of his favorite places, and his friend Kai lives there.
Kai is a raft guide on the snake river. Reid talks about their river packing trip from a few years ago all the time.
He’ll want to go party at a cheesy bar or in a mountain shack. I’m sure of it.
Sparing him the decision, I reply, “Let’s go straight to Jackson. I could use a good burger.”
The door clangs shut, and I swear he looks a little sad as he walks back to his own van, but I’m certain that’s my imagination.
Reid is an extrovert—an extreme extrovert in fact.
Why would he want to stay at some secluded campsite with just me when we could park next to all of his buddies and go party in Jackson?
Reid starts down the road ahead of me. I love when he leads the way. It makes me insanely self conscious whenever he drives behind me. Every time I somehow forget how to drive, just because I can see his van in my rear view.
We’ve been driving for about an hour before my podcast is interrupted by a phone call. It’s Reid. Of course it is. “Addie.”
“Reid.”
“We have to stop up ahead.” His tone is serious.
“For…?”
“There’s this little dinosaur museum.”
I shouldn’t be surprised—if there’s a tourist trap or even just a weird landmark, Reid is going to make us stop. It’s in his nature.
“Fine. Where is it?”
“Eh I don’t know. Somewhere up here on the left. We’ll see it.” I can hear his smile through the phone.
At least this time he called. Usually, he simply pulls over, and expects me to follow. I don’t mind though. It’s nice to have a reminder to slow down sometimes.