Inferno

five | the pitstop

Slumped while one of my cheeks rests in my hand, I don't look his way the entire time. He's beckoning me to give into his tested antics–five seconds of summer playing on the stereo, a bag of curly fries on the space behind the gear, and a drive through that stretch of tree canopy I love. It's a well laid trap, I'd give him that, but nothing's going to favour him today.

"Come on, Leia, you've got to talk to me sometime. At least look at me."

I don't. My eyes stay glued to the dipping horizon, watching the sky die itself into a blend of pink and muted orange. The only way he's getting my attention is if there's a tsunami heading our way, or an equivalent of the same in the form of a text on his phone. I stiffen at the notification sound, turning to look before he can reach out for it and meddle. My face ashens, a shooting pain erupting in my chest and enveloping my whole body as I read it. "I can't believe you. So this is what you do with my trust, take it and throw my naïveté in my face."

"Leia, no, it's not like that. I can explain this, I–what are you doing?"

I begin pulling at the handles to let myself out of the running car, closing myself to him chanting my name and solely focused on the dripping of tears obscuring my vision. There's no way he can stop, for we're on a freeway now, but I'm stubborn to not spend a minute more breathing the same air as he is, which forces him to reach out to me.

"No!" I wake up with a jolt, shaken to my bones until the change of scenery makes me settle and make sense of the events. Chase's voice is the first thing I allow myself to recognise, after the salty fragrance of the sea. 

"Hey, what happened?" Concerned, he looks at me, figuring whether to lend me an arm as I flinch at the mere sound of a bike razing past us.

"A bad dream, that's all." I've memorised the words to my heart, so there's no chance I'm stumbling now. Although, the deepening of his baby blues puts up a great fight while at it. "How long did I sleep for?" I ask, for the time I'd begun drifting off, we'd barely left Amsterdam and now we're at some beach town it seems, from the emerald green bordering us, and the streets bustling with people in board shorts, carrying six packs and lathered in sand from their knees down.

"Five hours or so, not much," he shrugs, doing little to hide the sarcasm dripping off of his words. "We're at Hart's now, so I figured we can take a stop and eat before heading again."

The way he says it all, tells he's more familiar with this route and the pit stops than I presumed. Hart's, huh. It's a little over six and I won't mind a meal after staying on a tall  cold brew for over half of the day, so my gaze drifts off to the little restaurant shacks peppered along the road ahead of us. "What about that one? Looks pretty," I point and Chase follows my lead to the farther most aqua walled mansion, with a huge light wood board saying 'Carrio's cafe' outside.

"Sure, why not," Chase drives off to the place, dirty white gates flung open and a few people scurried outside. We park and head inside, directed by the woman at the counter to the first storey. It's only when I'm all the way up, that the view and a fond realisation that we're facing the  sea, comes along with a light breeze. "Woah," Chase comes behind, the release of his breath after the sharp intake fanning on my exposed neck.

"Let's go inside," I step away, and he falls onto my side, while I hope there's no unusual pink on my face to give away the trepidation.

We're at the corner most table, barely a few feet away from the water splattering over us as occasional waves hit the surface of the black rocks below. "What do you feel like ordering ?" Chase asks, and I begin looking at the menu until my eyes land on the little blackboard in the corner, with specials of the day written in beautiful cursive over the slate. "The mustard fettuccini sounds interesting," he mumbles after observing me flicker at all the different options.