Friday
I had planned on driving straight there—I was under a time crunch, after all. But that was before I saw it off the side of the highway, in bright red and yellow, a beacon of hope and secret sauce—the In-N-Out arrow.
I signaled to take the next exit, telling myself that I still had plenty of time, that I’d still make it with no problem, even though I knew I had been cutting it close to begin with, without burger stops. But I needed sustenance—it’s not like Nevada was just around the corner. And, true, I’d bought snacks when I’d stopped for gas, but that was before I’d seen the In-N-Out sign and my priorities had shifted.
Normally at In-N-Out, I’d go in and order at the counter, since the drive-thru line was usually insanely long. My dad and I always felt very smug as we’d leave with our white delicious-smelling bags, and see the people in the drive-thru line who still hadn’t moved. But right now, at this particular In-N-Out—it was one I’d never been to before—there was almost no line at the drive-thru, so I swung in. I pulled to a stop behind a minivan with a stick-figure family marching across the back windshield. Even with my windows closed, I could hear the Mariah Carey blasting from their car.
My phone buzzed in the cupholder, and I saw the text pop up on my screen.Everything okay?—R.I shifted the car into park and texted back.All good!Then a second later, I addedI MIGHT have stopped at In-N-Out but still okay on time.A second later, the response popped up.Bring me some?I laughed as I texted back.I really don’t think it’ll keep.I was searching for the green-faced barfing emoji when my phone rang. I smiled at the contact and pressed the button on the screen to answer it.
“Hey, Didi.”
“Darce! Finally. Katy’s here too.”
“She is?”
“Hi hi hi,” Katy said through the phone, her words tumbling out quickly. “I’m here! We’re both here. Where are you?”
“I’m driving,” I said, shifting into drive to pull up a few feet. The people in the Mariah Carey–loving minivan in front of me—it sounded like they were playing the song again, clearly trying to get as much use out of it while they still could—were giving their order to the In-N-Out employee with her tablet. “I’m not stopped or anything.”
“That’s a weird thing to say,” Didi said, and even through the phone, I could practically hear her raising her eyebrow.
“Hi, welcome to In-N-Out!” The girl with her tablet hadn’t waited for me to get to her—she’d come to me. And totally blown my cover.
“Traitor!” Didi hissed through the screen loud enough that the In-N-Out employee took a concerned step back. “Bastard traitor!”
“One sec.” I muted the call, then gave her my order—Double-Double extra toast, extra sauce, fries well, Neapolitan shake.
“Great,” she said, punching it in. “Got it. Pull up to the first window to pay.”
“Thanks so much,” I said. I started to drive forward and unmuted the call. “I’m back. You scared the nice In-N-Out employee.”
“Darcy never agreed to your meat ban, Deeds,” Katy pointed out, as ever the reasonable one. “You’re the one who chose to date a vegan.”
“All I promised was not to eat meat in front of you,” I reminded her. “Plus, how do you know I didn’t order a grilled cheese?”
“Did you?”
“Of course not.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Katy laughed. “Also—don’t give Darcy grief about In-N-Out. You know it’s not as available to her.”
“Thank you.”
“So,” Didi said in what, since seventh grade, had been her getting-down-to-business voice. “How are you feeling?”
“Excited. Nervous?” I glanced in the rearview mirror and played with my bangs—they were maybe a smidge too long.
“Of course you’re nervous,” Katy said. “But you’ve got this. You’ll call us the whole time, right?”
“She’s not going to Nevada to talk to us,” Didi admonished. “But that being said, we do want updates.”
“Yes,” Katy said, and I could tell that she was smiling. “Have fun! Be safe!”
I felt my cheeks get hot. “Katy. Stop.”
“What?”
The car in front of me drove forward, and I saw I’d gotten three texts while we’d been talking. “I promise I’ll drive carefully, and I’ll call when I can.”
“And let us know when you’re back,” Didi said. “We have a lot of catching up to do.”
“Of course,” I said, pulling up to the first window. “Gotta go—I’m paying.”
“Later,” Didi said.
“Byeeee!” Katy practically yelled into the phone.
“Hi, that’ll be eight sixty-five,” the girl behind the window said as I reached her. I rifled through my wallet, and handed her a twenty. She dropped it into the register, then gave me a smile as she handed me back my change. “That’s eleven thirty-five,” she said, dropping the coins in my palm. I could hear, faintly, the In-N-Out soundtrack—Mariah Carey fading out, Kelly Clarkson starting up.
“Thanks a lot,” I said as I dropped the change into my cupholder.
“Please pull forward to the next window,” she said. I gave her a nod, but before I drove away she smiled and added, “And happy holidays!”