Chapter 4
ALL FOR A CHEESESTEAK
Thane
Iget comfortable in the shotgun seat and buckle my seatbelt. My stomach immediately growls, reminding me I left my protein bar on the kitchen counter. I muster up the sweetest “I need a favor” voice I can and ask.
“Hey, Fina. I didn’t eat breakfast, and it’s a few hours until lunchtime. Can we please stop at a gas station and get some snacks for the road? I’m starving!”
“It’ll be lunchtime before we know it, Thane. We don’t need snacks.”
“Sure we do. What’s a road trip without snacks?”
She sighs heavily, and I know she’s about to give in.
“Fine. But make it quick,” she says as she pulls into the convenience store we used to ride our bikes to as kids. I jump out of the car before she changes her mind. She rolls down the window and yells, “And you’re buying!”
I nod and raise a hand in acknowledgment before dipping into the store.
I come out a few minutes later with an armful of drinks and a bag bursting at the seams.
“Seriously?” she asks as I fold myself back into the passenger seat.
“What?”
“Chocolate milk? You’re such a child.”
“Hey. Don’t knock chocolate milk. It’s the best, no matter what age you are. Besides,” I say with a smile, “I got your favorites, too.” I hand her a Cherry Pepsi.
Before she can even contest what I’ve said, I pull out a bag of Cheetos, Sour Skittles, and a Dark Chocolate Milky Way. Her mouth drops open.
“Don’t be so surprised. My memory isn’t that bad.”
She sniffs and clears her throat before throwing on her sunglasses. Her chin raises, and a proud “Thank you” leaves her lips. I bask in the fact that I got it right and take whatever appreciation she’ll toss my way.
“You’re welcome,” I reply, and crack open my drink.
“Delete those awful pictures right now!” Sera demands from the driver’s seat.
When she diverts her gaze back to the road, I swipe to the next photo and laugh again. Not only did I get to stir her up, but I get to relive that moment in the driveway over and over again.
“I know you don’t believe me, but I’ll make good on my threat.” She points a finger in my direction and narrows her eyes. “I brought a fresh, new razor.”
“You could shave off every hair I have on my entire body, and I would still not delete them,” I tease.
“Suit yourself. I will take great pleasure in paying you back when the time comes. You just wait.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” I say, glancing over at the GPS. “Wait, you’re not taking the Ninety-Five through Philadelphia?”
“There’s a storm warning for the coast. I thought we’d take the inland route and avoid any flood zones,” she replies with a shrug.
I groan like a child who didn’t get his way.
“What? It won’t add that much time to the trip, and it’s a safer option.”
“It’s not that.” I shrug.
“What is it, then?”
“If we took the Ninety-Five, we’d be passing through Philly right at lunchtime. I have my heart set on a Philly cheesesteak.”
“You realize Hurricane Dylan is still active, right?” she asks. “I half expected our parents to cancel the trip, considering how close it’ll get to Amethyst Lake.”
“Eh, it got downgraded to a tropical storm this morning. We’ll be fine.”
When she grips the steering wheel tighter, I resort to begging.
“Come on, Fina. I haven’t had a Philly cheesesteak in years!” I pout my bottom lip and clasp my begging hands. “Please?”
“Maybe you should come home more often, then,” she says under her breath.
She looks over at me. My pathetic face must’ve done the trick, because her shoulders relax and her face softens. With a big, heavy sigh, she concedes.
“Fine, but if you make us super late because of a dumb sandwich, you’ll owe me big time,” she replies, changing lanes to take the Ninety-Five.
I pump my fist in excitement, and my stomach immediately begins to growl. Sera smiles and shakes her head. “I can’t believe how quickly you make me cave. I really need to disappoint you more often.”
“Stick around, I’m the king of disappointing others. I’ll show you my ways.”
“Why would you say that?” she asks.
“I don’t know where you’ve been the last few years, but that’s the only accomplishment I have under my belt.
You became a pastry chef, Bash became a Secret Service agent, my sister and brother became a dentist and a judge, and I became an embarrassment to my family.
Everyone knows that. My parents, your parents… ” I trail off.
“That’s not true, Thane, and I hope deep down you know that.”
My throat tightens around the self-doubt that I carry like a backpack—ever present, weighing me down just enough to keep me stuck. When I stay silent, she steals a glance in my direction, but I’m too much of a coward to look back at her. Instead, I stay laser focused out the windshield.
“Thane,” her voice softens, wrapping around me like a blanket, “you are so much more than you give yourself credit for. You always have been.”
“Yet you were the first person to assume I wanted first class just to get drunk and hit on the flight attendants.”
Her eyes fall to her hands on the wheel. She opens her mouth to speak, then closes it again. For half a second, I let her drown in her discomfort before throwing her a life preserver.
“But speaking of parents—I don’t really know what our moms hope to accomplish by forcing us to drive all the way down to South Carolina,” I say, changing the subject.
“In my mom’s letter, she told me we’d better be friends again by the time we get there, or she’ll make us turn right back around and make the drive home. ”
“Ouch. That’s harsh. My mom just said that the twelve-hour trip should give us plenty of time to work out whatever issues we two have between us.”
A long pause hangs in the air between us.
“What exactly are the issues between us?” I ask.
“Nothing we can’t pretend doesn’t exist,” Sera says with a raw vulnerability in her voice. “It’s going to take longer than a twelve-hour car ride to address all of it.”
I clear my throat. “For real,” I say, faking a smile.
Deep down, I’m both grateful and disappointed that she doesn’t want to get into the nitty-gritty of “us,” though. It’s a mess and we both know it. We’ll need more time to even acknowledge the elephant in the room, much less address it.
I reach over and turn a new playlist on low, resigning myself to the fact that Sera will be a tougher nut to crack than I originally expected.
Small talk it is, Fina.
“Okay then, how have you been?”
She fidgets with a loose strand of hair that had fallen from her bun.
“I’ve been so good!” she begins, with a pitch of voice I know from her white-lie days. “After I got my culinary degree, I decided to learn to be a pastry chef—but you already know that. I have a good job in the city at a trendy hotel called ‘Fete,’ and I’ve been awarded for my pastries twice.”
My mind races about whether she has a boyfriend or not, but I’m too chicken to ask. As if on cue, her phone rings, and a meathead-looking guy’s contact picture pops up with the name “Bradley.” She dismisses the call without a second thought.
My chest tightens. Is it possible to hate a guy I’ve never even met?
Even his name is hate-able. Bradley. Brad.
Blegh. Nothing about it improves if I shorten it; it’s still annoying.
I can almost picture him now: a Giga Chad with muscles for days and a cocky attitude to go with it.
He probably eats veggie-only egg-white omelets and plain yogurt every morning for breakfast, along with a protein shake.
“Thane?” Sera asks, sending my train of thought crashing off the rails.
“Hmmm?” I reply, shaking my head to re-center.
“Did you hear me?”
“Uh, no. Sorry, my thoughts ran off for a minute there.”
“I was asking you what you’ve been up to. I mean, I’ve seen your Instagram, so I can kind of gather there was a lot of traveling, parties, and women hanging around.”
“Yeah, a few,” I answer with a shrug.
“Is there any more you’d like to add, or should I just fill in the blanks myself?”
“Most people do just fill in the blanks. So if you have as well, I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“I’d like to not have to, but sharing what’s between the lines is completely up to you,” she says with a shrug.
“Looks like you had some amazing experiences out there; so much so that I wondered sometimes if you would ever come back home.” She pauses while her words settle between us. “Why did you come home, anyway?”
Because I knew I was running out of time to win you back.
“I ran out of money,” I lie, and fake a laugh to punctuate it.
Her eyes fall. “Oh,” is all she mutters, and that one small syllable pummels me right in the chest.
I sit in silence as I let the lie fester between us.
I want to take it back. To pull it from her eardrums and toss it out the window as we drive.
I ache to confess that I never stopped loving her; to be bold and tell her that every day away from her was agony on the inside, even if it looked like paradise on the outside.
But I don’t. Apparently today is not the day I choose bravery—or honesty, for that matter. I hate myself for it.
A familiar shame settles deep in my gut, and even though she thinks I’m shallow and materialistic, I don’t correct it.
Center City Philadelphia is crazier than I remembered. The streets are lined with cars, bustling with people, and the parking is almost nonexistent.
“Thane…” Sera says after twenty minutes of driving around, “we’re getting further behind schedule.”
“I know, I know. I’m looking. There’s gotta be a spot somewhere,” I reply, my eyes scanning out the windshield.
“This is the fourth time we’ve circled Pat’s. Just jump out and order, and I’ll circle the block a few more times while they make our cheesesteaks.”
“Great idea,” I say, unbuckling my seatbelt.
She pulls over and double-parks in front of Pat’s. I climb out of the car, lean into the window, and rattle off a series of questions.
“Okay, how do you want yours? Provolone, Whiz, wit, witout… or would you rather have American?” I ask.