Me, You

I lied in bed, staring out the window waiting for John.

The clock read 12:31, which meant it’d been two hours since my mom had gone to bed. And an hour since John texted me saying he was on his way.

It didn’t worry me so much until another twenty minutes passed. Maybe John really didn’t want to go. This could’ve be his way of saying that this was going too far, defying our parents in so many ways. Which was fucking ridiculous, looking at all of the things he’s made me do-

There were two flashes from the window, John’s signal. Scrambling to look out the window, his car was parked in the driveway.

I rushed, grabbing my duffle bag full of clothes, my debit card which I took from my mom’s drawer and other necessities. Taping my goodbye note to my bedroom door, I closed it shut. I quietly tiptoed down the stairs and out of the house.

“You’re late,” I whispered, even though there was no one else around. Buckling myself in, I tossed my duffle bag into the back, “I thought you weren’t coming.”

“I’m sorry,” John gave me an apologetic look, “I had to make a few stops before...”

He lifted up the Waffle House take out bag and coffee and immediately, he was forgiven.

I took the bag and peered in, “Did you get-”

“Two Bacon Texas Cheesesteak Melts for the both of us with a chocolate pie to share if you’re still not full.” I grinned up at him, “Lou, you act like I don’t know you or something!”

“I’m sorry,” I set the bag down, “I’m just kind of nervous.”

“I am too,” He let out a breathy laugh.

“Do you still want to-”

“Yes,” He interrupted. Looking at me, he repeated, “Yes.”

“Good,” I nodded.

That was the last thing that was said for a while. When we hit the highway, I spread the US map across my lap, following our path with my eyes. John put on Death Cab for Cutie, his favorite. Normally, I’d scoff and make him change it. Death Cab always made me sleepy. But, there was something about driving through the Arizona desert that was fitting for this music.

For a while, I kept nodding off only to jerk up moments later. I refused to fall asleep, but didn’t want John to change the music so I took sips of John’s coffee. He glanced at me every now and then. Eventually, the silence was broken,

“It’s okay if you want to go to sleep.”

“No,” I shook my head, “That wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“It’s alright, I’ll sleep tomorrow when you’re driving.”

My eyes widened, “You’ll let me do that?”

He nodded, “It’s the highway, and you’re only going one speed and one way.” A yawn slipped from my mouth and he chuckled, “Go to sleep, I’ll wake you up when we reach a rest stop.”

I turned over to face the window. Watching mountains and cacti fly by us, my eyelids grew heavy and dozed off.

When I was six, Mom was incredibly depressed. No one exactly knew why she started drinking her sorrows away. No one even knew what these sorrows were. It got bad. To the point that Jenny admitted my mom into rehab and took me in for a few months.

I lived in John’s room and we saw it as one long sleepover. By then, boys had reached their ‘cootie’ phase. But, not John. I had severe panic attacks. We didn’t know that of course, assuming I was still scared of the monsters under the bed. So, we decided to start taking shifts to fend off the monsters. John would always take the first shift, letting me sleep. But, he would end up falling asleep anyways.

So, when I woke up on my own that morning, I was relieved that John hadn’t fallen asleep driving.

I stretched a little and yawned a ‘good morning.’

“Good morning,” He stared straight forward, “We still have ten miles until our next rest stop. Are you hungry?” I shook my head as my stomach growled. He chuckled, “The sandwiches are still in the bag for you to eat whenever you get ‘hungry.’”

Being too nervous and excited, I couldn’t eat at all yesterday. The nonexistent hunger from the day before suddenly returned when I unwrapped the Waffle House sandwich. Savoring every bite, John laughed.

“Not hungry, huh?”

“Shut up,” I grumbled, crumbs dribbling out.

He narrowed his eyes at me, “You’re a pig.”

“And you’re an ass.”

We argued for another thirty minutes until we reached the rest stop. John took long strides towards the bathroom after driving for almost eight hours straight. I waited for him in the rest stop lobby, looking at an enlarged map on the wall of the state we were in. We were smack dab in the middle of New Mexico. Albuquerque not being too far from here.

He came out with an unlit cigarette between his fingers. Putting an arm around me, he asked, “Ready to drive?”

“I think the question is are you ready?”

“I have a cigarette to calm me down. I think I’ll be fine.” He looked at the map, “We have a hell of a long way to New York.”

“We’ll probably get there in time, right?”

“In time for what- wait...” He gulped, “... yeah, of course.”

He didn’t sound so sure. My dad had a timer strapped to his chest, an unknown amount of time ticking away.

“Well, let’s not take any chances and get going.” I said lightly, walking towards the door.

John snatched up a map before we left, when I turned for an answer he simply said, “Memorabilia.”

I strapped myself into the driver’s seat and started the car. So far, so good. John watched closely as I shakily drove out of the parking lot. The highway was 65, faster than any road John had taken me on before. I was worried. But, John didn’t say anything, he actually seemed calm.

When I glanced over, he was smiling.

“What’s with the smiling?”

He merely chuckled, “I could get used to this.”


“Today’s actually my fiancée’s birthday,” John flashed a smile to the waitress, a middle aged woman with graying hair.

36. Lie to a waitress and get free cake.

“Well, congratulations and happy birthday!” She smiled at me.

He winked at me. Then adding to the waitress, he beamed, “She’s also been eating for two.”

The waitress’s face flickered to my stomach as I began rubbing it. I knew she was trying her best to not judge us because how young we were, which only made me slightly pity her.

John kept a straight face until the waitress was out of sight and he busted out laughing. I kicked him from under the table, “So now I’m your pregnant fiancée too?”

“I’m sorry,” He choked out between laughs, “But thanks for playing along, rubbing your stomach was a nice touch.”

We were somewhere near Oklahoma City, after an entire day consisting of me driving and stopping at rest stops. Other than the melts we devoured earlier in the morning, this was the first time we sat down in a restaurant. Come to think of it, this was actually the first time we’ve sat down in a restaurant in months, solely surviving on Waffle House pie when it came to hanging out together.

“Well, I think I’ve eaten enough chocolate pie in my life to pass off as pregnant.” I patted my stomach.

“Hey there,” He poked my hand with his straw, “That’s not true.”

Of course it wasn’t true. But, I rolled my eyes anyways, “I’m not Mia skinny.”

That was true. Mia could’ve modeled or something. I was average. I never had self-esteem issues, acting too much like ‘one of the guys’ to ever truly care. But, when it came to Mia, something compelled me to get John to say I was better than her.

“And you don’t need to be,” John shook his head, “You’re Lou, way more brave and kickass than Mia could ever be. Size doesn’t matter because you’re perfect the way you are.”

I smiled, genuine John was my favorite John, “Repeat that last part.”

“What? You’re perfect the way you are?”

“No, before that.”

Confused, John said slowly, "Size... doesn’t matter...? I don’t- wait a minute.”

I busted out laughing as John kicked me under the table this time.

“Can’t believe you’re having my baby.” He sneered.

“I can’t believe I’m have your baby.”

Before John could shoot an insult back, a crew of waitresses and waiters came into the room singing, ‘Happy Happy Birthday.’ Behind them came our waitress with a big slice of chocolate cake with a single candle on top. With smiling faces, they watched as I blew the candle out.

John grinned, “Happy birthday, Lou.”