Josie Guerrero is focused on one thing: getting accepted into the prestigious art studies program within the Art School at the University of Southern Washington. With thirteen weeks to create her sophomore portfolio, she knows she can't afford any d...
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It's nearly nine-thirty on the first Friday night of the semester, and I'm already two cans of strawberry lemonade and half a bag of sour candies deep into a sugar high. I'm practically vibrating in the passenger seat when Halle pulls her white Jeep onto the highway and punches the gas, sending us flying toward the town a few exits north of Pullman.
I'm honestly not sure if it's because of the sugar that's currently flooding my bloodstream or just because I'm that excited for the carne asada fries I'm about to order, but I can feel my heart racing in my chest. This is the moment Halle and I have been waiting months for — mac and cheeseburgers, potato balls, meatball calzones, carne asada fries, Philly cheesesteak pizza, fried Oreos, BBQ pulled pork empanadas. This place is a food lover's dream, a mouthwatering mixture of the most delicious foods you could possibly think of. But, unlucky for us, this food heaven is on wheels and tends to be anywhere but Southern Washington.
Halle and I have been stalking the truck on Instagram for the past nine months, constantly praying that they'll stop somewhere close, but since it travels up and down the West Coast, taking its sweet time in California, we've only gotten to eat at it twice.
We weren't supposed to go anywhere tonight, but our plan of staying cuddled up in my bed while watching Grey's Anatomy reruns was thrown out the window when Halle shot up, spilling the family-sized bag of sour candies across my duvet as she stared wide-eyed at her phone. Liv and I sat up beside her, but before we could ask, she was running out of my room with a frantic Pippa sprinting to catch up. We could just barely make out what she was saying until she stopped back at my doorway ten seconds later, cheeks flushed, eyes wide, with mismatched shoes on her feet and Pippa's leash in hand.
"This is not a drill, people. It's here. The Wandering Goat is here. But it's closing in twenty minutes, so we have to leave now." She clipped Pippa's black leather leash to her matching collar and disappeared toward the living room, where I could hear her already unlocking the front door.
I don't think I've ever put on shoes so quickly in my life. I grabbed for the first ones I saw, which happened to be the rain boots sitting near my closet, and after hopping around my room while trying to slide my feet into them, I turned around to see Liv still wrapped up in my bedsheets, her brows knit in confusion.
"You don't want to miss this, Liv, trust me." I grinned, nodding for her to come along.
She hesitated for a second and then jumped off the bed, an amused smirk tugging at her lips as she ran behind me out of my room. Our excited laughs were echoing loudly through the apartment at the absurdity of it all — that we were really rushing around grabbing our wallets and keys, not even bothering to change out of our pajamas or waste time looking in the mirror. And when Liv finally slipped her sock-clad feet into the Nike Slides by the door, Halle picked up Pippa, and we were running down the stairs of our apartment building toward the parking lot.
We jumped into Halle's Jeep, where I took the entire five-minute drive to try to explain the sheer divinity of this food truck to Olivia. To give her some insight on how her life would never be the same again after biting into one of their famous potato balls. She laughed at my dramatics, but I knew the second we stepped out of the car and walked up to the truck, completely immersed in the delicious aroma of the carne asada and Philly cheesesteak pizza, she was starting to understand just how right I was.
