Chapter 3 #2
Around midnight last night, I placed our Starbucks orders to be ready for us today– this way we didn’t have to wait in line or anything.
I ran in the union and picked up our drinks– mango dragon fruit and strawberry acai refreshers.
I can not have coffee while on a road trip.
Not that I even like the taste, but if I did, we’d have to stop every thirty minutes if I did, and at that rate we’d never make it to Colorado.
I love a good refresher anyway and so does Lana. She’s the strawberry acai to my mango dragon fruit.
Lana and I have been on the road for over three hours now. We are more than halfway there! The drive through Nebraska is always pretty boring. There are no sites to see along the way; it's just straight corn and flat roads. There’s more corn than people here; it’s actually a fact.
This drive is very different for me. Growing up I always flew for vacation, and the few road trips we did were just up to Rhode Island where we’d sometimes rent a beach house in the summers.
Anyways, Lana drove the first half, so I just took over when we stopped for gas to finish it out.
I normally don’t mind driving the whole time because I drive much faster than Lana, but Lana insisted she wanted to help out.
She pretends she wanted to drive for equality, but let’s be real—she’s still traumatized from the time I hit 100 on the speedometer and flirted my way out of the ticket.
After showing a smile and a little shoulder, the officer let me off with a warning.
I suppose she also might want to drive because I won’t let her chip in for the Airbnb.
But Lana doesn’t come from much money, so it’s hard to expect her to pay for herself with the type of things I want to do.
That’s why I usually just pay. This way, she doesn’t feel bad for saying no and she can experience things with me.
Plus, I love charging my parent’s credit cards.
They get mad and I love making them mad. So it’s a win-win, honestly.
The whole drive we’ve been listening to a bunch of old 2000’s music like Katy Perry, Nicki Minaj and Rihanna.
We’ve been shouting the songs at the top of our lungs and laughing anytime one of our voices cracks, which is often.
But about five songs ago, she stopped singing.
I glance in her direction and turn the music down once I realize she’s asleep.
She’s always on edge; she’s a rule follower and I’m not; and she knows this about me.
Anytime I do something drastic without her knowing, she tends to question it and internally freak out a bit.
I can’t help it though, I love messing with her.
I tell myself I’m bringing her out of her shell to make myself feel better for torturing her, but I know I’m still pushing her to her limits.
She looks so calm and peaceful now. When I glance back to the road, I come up with the best plan.
I’m gonna get her so good this time. In front of me is a semi truck headed in the same direction, but it’s pulling another semi backwards, making it look like it’s coming straight for us.
I’m gonna scream and shake Lana to scare her awake.
What? I’ve seen it on Instagram before. It’s a funny prank, I didn’t just pull it out of my ass.
I go at a steady speed to make sure the truck is the perfect distance from us. Alright, here goes nothing.
“Ahhhhhhhhh!” I jolt her awake like we’re about to die. Method acting: unhinged driver edition. Lana wakes and jolts up immediately, seeing the truck.
“Ahhhhhh!” she screams back. “Oh my God!” She grabs her seatbelt with one hand, the other is reaching for the handle on the roof of the car. “Oh my… very funny.” She slaps my right arm not too hard, but hard enough.
I’m in the driver’s seat dying of laughter, tears forming in my eyes, I can barely see the road.
“You’re a menace to society,” she says smacking my arm. She’s not wrong. “I nearly shit my pants! You scared me half to death!”
I can’t breathe. The laughter won’t end. “You should have seen your face!”
Man that was worth it! I’m awful but I can’t help myself. She’s just too easy.
Once we cross the state line, I see a sign that says “Welcome to Colorful Colorado.” I pull over instantly, making Lana lean in my direction. The empty Starbucks cups in the cup holder almost go flying.
“What are you doing?” Lana asks a bit scared.
“Let’s take a picture!” I say pointing at the sign.
“Oh, bet!” she exclaims.
I put the car in park once I find a safe spot for us to stop. I get out with my phone and set it up on my tripod. I just hope it doesn’t fall this time. Once I stabilize it well, I press record to take a video, grab Lana’s hand, and run towards the sign.
We try running in a cute way so I can use the video for TikTok and later screenshot photos from it for Instagram. I’m a multitasker. It’s one of my specialties.
Once we went through a good amount of poses, we run back and hop in the car to get back on the road. Only two more hours to go!
***
The winding road takes us to the middle of the mountain and our cabin. We arrive around four in the afternoon. It’s everything I imagined! It’s in the mountains right next to the slopes, but more importantly right next to the spa. I love it.
I pull up the information to the Airbnb from my email on my phone and type in the access code.
One step into the cabin and I’m ten again, hyped on cocoa and ski trips and all the fake snow-globe perfection.
I remember staying in little cabins like these where we would make hot cocoa and play endless games, and watch movies.
We would cook mac n’ cheese, roast s’mores, and go skiing.
Everything about those trips were perfect.
Lana’s looking around like she’s stepped into a Pinterest board.
I love watching her take it all in—like I’m giving her the life she deserves.
She told me she went skiing once, but it ended badly.
But even then I’m sure they stayed somewhere a bit more affordable.
Maybe that’s the trip that made her afraid of ski lifts?
There are granite countertops and wooden cabinets that match the exterior. The bedroom has lots of blankets and rugs made out of animal hide. I peek in the back and…phew! The hot tub exists! For a moment I was worried it was too good to be true.
I’m about to make that tub be my activity for the rest of my day, but first, Instagram photos! I need to take cute pics for my feed, so I brought the perfect pieces of clothing, along with my favorite photographer. How else are people going to know I’m having the time of my life here?
The sun has yet to set but by looking at the time, we don’t have much sun left. I better get started.
“Lana!” I yell, “can you please take photos of me before the sun goes down?”
“Of course!” she says like the amazing friend she is.
I throw on my green bikini, fur coat, boots, and hat. Then head out the door.
Some people may call me crazy for stepping out into the cold like this, but I call it bold. Models must be willing to do anything; being called difficult in this industry is every model’s poison. No model wants to be known as difficult, because then no one would hire them. I refuse to be difficult.
When the door opens, my skin prickles with the cold. My freshly shaven leg hairs threaten to poke themselves up and goosebumps show up on my normally glossy skin. I don’t care how stupid I look; I’m doing it for the photos.
Any guy would eat this shit up.
Lana knows the drill. She grabs my phone, opens the camera app and clicks away, getting all my best angles but also every angle just in case.
“Fix your hair, you have a piece sticking out of your hat.”
I do as she says and keep posing away. I do my main poses: putting one leg up to look cute, playing with my hair to look natural, and staring straight at the camera for fierceness on repeat.
I execute them quickly and move continuously so each photo is different, yet they all flow together perfectly.
Photography is an art and the subject is the muse. I, the subject, intend to give the artist a reason to photograph me. So I move with intention, but naturally. I want to look as carefree as possible yet also sexy. Hence the bikini.
I’m freezing already, but we aren’t done. I need to get all the shots, for the full effect. My nipples don’t care though, they want to be the center of attention. They’re hard as icicles and pointy too. I use my fur coat to cover them up a bit.
Lana is lucky, she’s fully clothed in winter gear and I’m acting like it’s summer. Summer, that’s what I need to think about to forget the cold.
A nice hot summer day, drinking margaritas and sitting poolside with a hot guy by my side. A hot guy, that’s what I need to find here.
“Back it up, just a bit—trust me, it’ll look insane,” Lana says, photographer mode activated.
Genius.
“That’s why you’re my favorite photographer!”
I’m not lying, she really is the best at taking my photos exactly how I want them.
I’ve trained her well.
I walk backwards until I’m in the path and look to see if there are any skiers. I don’t see any, so I continue with my photoshoot getting ready to pose for Lana.
I watch Lana squat down to get a good angle and that’s when I hear, “Watch out!”
And I fall.