Another Mile, Another Minute

It was coming close to Jack’s twenty-first birthday and Lia wanted to be in Los Angeles to celebrate it with him. He, Rian, Zack, and ugh, Alex were going to begin recording their newest album, and they were excited, to say the least. Rian and Zack flew out a week earlier, Jack had flown out a couple of days prior, and Alex, being the procrastinator that he was, hadn’t even booked a flight out, and was still bumbling around town.

As most people could tell right from the moment they meet the happy group, everyone was on good terms with each other with the exception of Lia and Alex. Ever since the summer they met, they had been rivals ever since. It was only because they traveled in the same circles and had the same group of friends that they were the slightest bit civil to one another.

Lia would have left town with Jack, had it not been for a few loose ends that needed to be tied up at work. She took this opportunity as a chance to take a road trip. She wanted to drive by herself; to clear her mind; to be alone with her thoughts, at least for a few days; stopovers here and there. It seems a very calming idea. Little did she know that Jack had other plans.

Jack had called Lia to confirm the last few details of her trip, “So you’re driving right?” his voice buzzed on the other end of the line.

She sighed, “Yes, Jack. Haven’t I been talking about it for days?” she joked, “What about Gaskarth? Has he found a way to L.A. yet?”

“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” He said with an indecisive tone marring his voice.

“No.” Lia said sternly before he’d even had the chance to say it.

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say!” he complained. She could picture him pacing and throwing his hands in the air out of exasperation.

“I have a very good idea of what it is you were going to say, and I don’t like it.” She stopped packing and put her hand on her hip; a sign of defiance even though he couldn’t see her.

“Okay, I get what you’re saying, but come on. You can stand him for a few days, can’t you?”

“Only if you’re fine with the idea of me showing up bald.”

“What?” he asked, confused.

“From stress, and pulling my own hair out.” She explained to him patiently.

“Oh.”

“Please, don’t ask me to do that.”

“I’m making my sad face right now, Lia.”

She giggled, “That’s a low blow, Jackie-O. Even for you.”

“C’mon, for me?” he pleaded, “for my birthday?”

“Oh, alright,” she gave in, “but I’m definitely not happy about this. And only ‘cuz you asked,” she rolled her eyes, “This is so gonna kill my ‘me time’. Is Alex aware of this plan of yours?”

“Uh, yeah. I already told him.” He replied sheepishly.

“Oh, what am I going to do about you?” she flopped back onto her bed.

“You’ve been asking yourself that very question for years, Lee, and you still don’t have an answer.”

She snorted delicately, “Huh, you’re right.”

“Miss you.” He said.

“Miss you, too.”

“Well, the guys are going out to Sonic. Better go before I get left behind,” she heard a fumbling in the background.

“Kay, bye.” She hit End Call and took a deep breath. How in the world would she be able to cope with fast-walking, not-so-smooth-talking Gaskarth for a week on the road?

“She had no clue how, but she had to try - for Jack’s sake, and for the sake of her sanity.

...

In cut off shorts, an ivory flutter sleeve top, and her favourite sandals, Lia pulled her long, dark hair into a messy bun atop her head. She felt no need to doll up for Alex, especially since they’d be spending the day on the road anyways.

She had their whole trip planned out. First, she’d pick Alex up at his house, and then they’d hit the road. Every stop was plotted and breaks were carefully timed so that they’d reach their destination in the desired amount of time. They’d be sleeping in hotels and inns along the way: also ready and waiting.

Every detail had to be concrete and stable, especially with a Gaskarth in the vehicle: known for ridiculous spontaneity during the most unwelcome moments. Although to Lia, Alex was pretty much always unwelcome.

She took a quick glance at the clock; it was almost noon. She decided that it was time to go and pick him up, which was why her head snapped up in surprise when she heard a car horn honk outside her house.

Grabbing her keys, the opened the front door.

“What are you doing here, Alex?” she demanded. They were not starting the trip off on a very good note.

He threw his hands up in disbelief, “Now, is that any ways to greet your ride? I think not,” he continued in the same breath, answering his own question.

“Um, yeah it is, if it’s you,” she said, cocking her hip, “and what do you mean by ride.”

“As in, vroom vroom.. That’s what this does,” he patted the hood of his car.

Lia shook her head, “No. I am not riding in that piece of junk. It’s a wonder you even made the ride here. It looks like it’s about to break down any second now.”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” he leaned protectively over the hood of his car and cooed softly, “Don’t listen to her, Rosita. She’s just acting like a cranky bitch.”

“I forgot you named that hunk o’ junk. I think she’s the longest relationship you’ve ever had, isn’t she? What is it? Four years now?”

He sent a dirty look her way, “Just shut up, get your bags, and get in the car, Philsen.”

“No way am I getting in a car with you,” she refused, “ I’m driving, in my car.”

If you want it that way,” he said, surprising Lia. She hadn’t expected him to agree so quickly, but he wasn’t done yet, “I’ll be in your neat little car, touching your neat little cup holders, sitting in your neat little leather seat, maybe drooling a bit on your neat little headrest when I fall asleep, when you’re driving: putting my feet up on your neat little dashboard...” he let that awful simulation play itself out in Lia’s head before venturing onward, “Need I say more, or should I go help you with your bags?”

She shuddered violently, “Just don’t hit the wood paneling. I just got those redone,” she complied through gritted teeth.

Not even day one and Alex was already getting under her skin.

“No problem, chicka,” he said accompanied by a mocking salute, both of which, were out of place on a 21 year old Caucasian male decked out in tight dark wash skinny jeans – which Lia could only assume that he found in the women’s section, considering how snug they were – graphic tee, and outrageously loud sneakers of the Nike variety. He was neither a soldier nor a flamenco dancer, which put a very odd image in her head as she tried picturing him as either one. She grimaced.

Her daynightmare was abruptly interrupted when she heard an, “Oops,” from behind.

“Uh, Lia. When you said wood paneling, did you mean the wood paneling here, or, I don’t know, wood paneling somewhere else?”

Lia groaned. She was wrong. Alex was already under her skin. She’d have to get the repair men to fix it as soon as she got back.

“Be careful, Alex. Please don’t break anything else.” she said, slipping past him, back into the house.

“Hey! I don’t see you helping out,” he retorted defensively as he lugged one of her suitcases down the hall. Three beads of sweat were already trickling down his pinkish face.

“I forgot the Tylenol, or Advil whichever one I have on hand,” she tacked on as an afterthought, “and if I’m gonna be with you, it’s a key component to staying sane. And be a man! I brought all those down from upstairs.”

“You know what helps with headaches?” he said, ignoring the jab, “some Blue Moon, red wine, and Stella Artois.”

“Hah,” she laughed, “not while you’re driving.” When she received no comment back, she exited the kitchen with the medications. Alex was loading the last of her bags into the trunk; his lips set in a firm line.

“You didn’t bring any, did you?” she asked.

“Okay, I forgot,” he admitted ruefully.

“Forgot?” she shot back, “You are driving, and I will not tolerate, no, I will not let you take even a whiff of your alcohol especially when we are on the road. I, on the other hand, am merely a passenger, who can drink as much as she pleases.”

“What’s a road trip without a little liquor?” he asked, “Anyways, at first, you didn’t want to let go of the territory called ”Steering Wheel” and now you’re content to just hand me the reigns? God, you’re bi-polar!”

She just smirked back at him.

“This is not fair. I supplied the booze. You are not going anywhere near it if I’m not.”

“But I thought you wanted to drive?” she replied, her voice dripping with sickly-sweet sarcasm. She was using reverse-psychology on him and it was working. Worse for him was, he knew it.

“You always need to have it your way, don’t you? Fine, compromise.”

“What, then, is your proposal?”

“The hell with that!" He exclaimed. "I’m not proposing to you!”

Talking to Alex was sometimes like beating yourself on the head repeatedly with a stick. A very dense stick. She waited a few moments for his brain to catch up with his mouth.

“...Ohh.”

There it was.

“Anyways, my idea: take turns driving.”

She contemplated it for an eighth of a second, “Well, that’s the first decent suggestion you’ve had in a while.” That was one of the rare times that they came to an agreement. She smiled to show that she wasn’t too serious about the insult.

“But I call dibs on driving first!” he announced getting into the front seat.

Lia frowned. She quickly checked that the front door was locked, and slid into the passenger seat of the rusty ’69 Plymouth Sport Satellite.

Lia guessed that the only reason Alex got ’Rosita’ when he was seventeen was because of how old it was.

Buckled in, she settled in for what she knew was going to be a long and bumpy journey.

Alex Gaskarth: 1
Lia Philsen: 0