She's My Ride Home

"We'll be looking at the stars, honey..."

We were laying in the bed of his pickup truck. The sun had just slipped below the horizon and the brisk spring California air blew gently through the park. Central Park was starting to empty out as parent’s brought their kids home to get ready for bed, and people walking their dogs quickly finished up so they could return before it was completely dark. No matter what the season was, we always spent Sunday nights in the back of the truck watching the sun creep down to sleep while the moon took over and brightened the sky with its brilliant glow. Even before either of us could drive we would walk to the park and meet up at the spot where both tracks collided, and then find a quiet place to sit on the grass. We would count the stars and try and figure out what was going on up in the vastness of the sky. It was just something we had always done from the time we were allowed into the park without any kind of supervision.
We remained laying content, my red hair spread out behind me while my head rested comfortably on his stomach, my feet propped up on the side of the truck’s bed. His fingers were gently raking through my hair; he would get to the ends and curl them around his fingers before going to the top and starting over again.
“Jackie?” His voice was the first thing to break the silence we had created around ourselves.
“Yea Bri?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“You know the answer to that doll,” I chuckled, and reached up to poke his cheek lightly. “You can ask me anything.
I felt his stomach vibrate beneath me as he laughed, his left arm moving from behind his head as it came to rest on my shoulder and then slide down to my hand.
“I was wondering if you wanted to go to prom?”
His question was just above a whisper, and I could hear his heart speed up as I turned my head to look at him. He looked nervous and I knew that he was starting to think I was either going to shatter his heart or try and let him down slowly.
“Of course I do,” I smiled, gently squeezing his hand. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to ask me.”
He breathed a long sigh of relief and broke out into a smile that would have given the sun a run for its money had it still been shining.
“What gave you that idea?” He asked, laughing lightly.
“Val gave me that idea,” I smirked. “She told me you were going to ask me like three weeks ago, and when you didn’t I was starting to think you had changed your mind.”
“And why would I do that?”
“I don’t really know,” I giggled. “But I’m glad you didn’t.”
“Well I’m glad you said yes.”

I don’t really know what had caused me to space out so much, but the pencil had fallen from my hand and the sketch paper in front of me continued to remain untouched as my focus was on a picture frame on my desk. All of the frames were simple and held pictures of my family and friends, but this one was different. It was a shocking purple color and in it was a picture my mother had taken of me and Brian the night of our prom. Neither of us paying attention to the camera; he stood with his hands on my waist while mine rested gently on his forearms. He was smirking down at me while I gazed up at him through my lashes. It was candid, it was perfect, it was me and Brian. The familiarity of him was something that had long since passed, and even though we would call and have the occasional conversation or grab a coffee when we both managed to make it home for a holiday it still was a far cry from the closeness we shared when we were teens.
It was a fear of loss that drove us away from each other, fear of losing the drive to pursue our dreams, fear of not making our dreams come true and most importantly a fear of losing one another. Sadly that fear had come true the minute the wheels were set in motion for our dreams and slowly but surely there really wasn’t anything either of us could do to stop that train from speeding down the tracks. We had simply become friends that saw each other on holidays or called every so often to see how life was, or to say happy birthday.
As my mind lingered on the night we were lying in the bed of his truck, I couldn’t help but hastily wipe away the stray tear that had slid down my cheek. I was tempted to pick up the phone, just to hear his voice but I had no idea where he was or what time it was. I knew two things: he was on tour and far from California and I was in New York. I could settle for his voice mail, and even then I could leave a message that was friendly and casual in hopes that he would call me back. I threw all caution to the wind when I picked up my phone and scrolled down my contact list until his name came up.
I pressed the call button and listened as the shrill ring sounded once…twice…three times…
The ringing ended and I could suddenly hear fumbling on the other end of the line.
“Hello?”
He was groggy and I had definitely just woke him up.
“Hi Bri.”
My words were soft because quite frankly I didn’t know how else to be right now.
“Jackie, hey! What’s up?”
He was awake now.
“Nothing out of the ordinary, I just wanted to call and say hi,” I lied through my teeth. “I wasn’t sure where you are at the moment so I was totally prepared to get your voice mail.”
“You probably would have if I didn’t fall asleep with the phone in my ass pocket.” He chuckled.
I could hear him moving as he left one spot and moved to another. I heard a door slide open and then close again and knew he had moved to the back lounge so as to not wake anyone else up.
“You plan on breaking that habit anytime soon?”
“Not really, it’s pretty convenient.” He laughed.
“Until your blackberry ends up in the toilet for the third time,” I giggled. “And poor Zack has to incur your hefty phone usage on his bill.”
I heard him let out a laugh through his yawn, and I could picture him stretching out on the couch and rubbing his hand over his face.
“Brian you should go back to bed, I can call you another time when you’re less asleep.”
“No!” He said all too quickly. “What time is it where you are?”
“It’s almost one in the morning.” I replied, only just then realizing what time it was and how badly I was denying my fatigue.
“Seriously? Jackie it’s midnight over here, I’m only an hour behind you!”
“Where are you?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.
“I’m in Ohio…I think…I don’t know, it’s the Midwest though, and I’ve seen my fill of cows and pigs for the next century.”
I laughed and thought about how he was going to be traveling in one of two directions: back to the west coast or over to the east coast.
“We’re going to be on the east coast in like a week or so…” He trailed off.
Bingo.
“Really, where on the east?”
“Well we’re starting up north and moving down through the actual coast and then ending in Florida.”
“Will you pass through New York?”
“Yea, for a day.” He said, sadness creeping through his voice.
I was silent, as I picked up the picture of us and studied his features. No tattoos, and even with his tuxedo jacket on I could have told you that at 18 years old he had one tattoo, and it was the number one on his left thumb. Short semi spiky hair, and a stud in his left nostril.
“Can I ask you something?” He asked suddenly.
Back to the age old question he should already know the answer to.
“Yea, go for it.” I said, knowing my response was different from the one I had given him many years ago.
“Can I see you when we get to New York?”
Frozen.
“Yea, just tell me when you’re schedule frees you up and we can grab coffee.”
“Can we just…just not get coffee, for once?” He asked, sounding frustrated. “I want to really see you, like spend time with you.”
“Having coffee isn’t spending time with me?” I asked, confused.
“Take that day off work,” He said. “I know you can, you run that place.”
Busted.
“Brian what’s this about?”
“It’s about me missing you, alright!” He said, frustration completely evident in every word he said as his voice became louder than it had been moments ago.
I was silent, because quite frankly I had no response for that. Of course I missed him too, but I was too scared to even admit it; sometimes I didn’t even want to admit it to myself. And then I said four words that would change the course of my life as I knew it.
“I miss you too.”
And it was in those words being released into the universe to roam free as they pleased that I felt my life changing; a change and a weight that I hadn’t felt since I was 19 years old.
Scared. To. Death.