Capturing You

Chapter 22: Point A

     We'd ended up falling asleep that night, somehow. The giddiness in my stomach simmered to a slow enough boil to let me get some rest.

     I only had two days left in Lake Charles before my flight back to Cincinnati Saturday night. That meant two days with Joe alone until we presumably parted ways to catch different flights and head back home, back to the normalcy of working together. I didn't know what was waiting for us on the other side, but I had faith that things would be at least good if not crystal clear.

     In the morning, Joe and I packed up our things, as I was scheduled to head back to my dad's house at this point. We said our thank yous to Aunt Martha and Uncle Hank and my honorary three siblings. We all hugged each other, but kept the goodbye short, knowing that the real one — the indefinite one — wouldn't be for another couple of days. I waved goodbye to them as we drove away, climbing up on the seat on my knees to do so until they were out of our sight.

     Finally, it was just Joe and I. I watched him keep both hands loosely on the bottom of the steering wheel, a calm concentration in his eyes that looked forward toward the dirt road. The Kid Cudi song I knew to be his favorite played as a quiet hum in the background. A second later, he glanced over at me and broke into a smile. "You are such a starer, Thompson."

"I am not," I scoffed.

"Are too."

     Alright, maybe I was. But the familiar oak trees of the path leading out of our makeshift neighborhood onto the main roads were hardly a spectacle in comparison to him. I mostly stared at him to make sure he was real.

     I turned my attention to the window, huffing, hiding my smile from him. We had entered the main roads now, though their only defining factor was the fact they were actually paid out of pavement instead of dirt and gravel. There wasn't a car in sight, and there wouldn't be for a couple of miles on either side until you got closer to the center of town. The day was vibrant — one to photograph: the marigold sun shining down on bright green grass against a perfect blue sky. The clouds were puffy marshmallows, too. Cincinnati hardly looked like this; I was constantly surrounded by concrete buildings that could swallow me whole.

"Where are we going, anyway?" I asked.

"I don't know. I thought maybe you knew."

     I laughed. "What do you mean? You're the driver! I thought we were gonna head back to your hotel or something."

     He quickly checked the rear view mirror then slammed on the brakes of the car, bringing us to a squeaking stop. I gasped, my body thrusting forward. He put the car in park.

"What the heck?"

    "Everything in your life is always planned, right, Avery? Either that or... you've got some footprints you wanna fit into. Right?"

    I rolled my eyes. "I make a lot of decisions for myself, Burrow." There was truth in my words, but how much? I wondered where he was going with this...

     Then I realized I was proving his point by agonizing over what he would say next. Was it that impossible for me to live life on the fly? He snickered.

"Where should we go, then?"

I furrowed my brows. "What?"

"Where should we go?"

"I don't know, I—"

He laughed. "Avery, pick a direction."

"Uhh..."

"Forward or backward, Ave."

"...Forward?"

     Joe kicked the car back into gear and started driving forward. We approached a four-way stop sign. Still no cars in sight. He looked at me, expectant.