Page 27 of Stops Along the Way
Amelia holds her phone up to her face. “Eight fifty-five.”
I squat down alongside the car, stretching my left leg and then my right, not ready to be cooped up for nine hours on the road today. “Do you want to drive first or me?”
“I’ll go first,” she says through a yawn. “Should we find coffee?”
“Since when do you drink coffee?” I ask, eyes narrowed as I reach my hands toward the sky, twisting my back until it cracks.
A white SUV slowly turns in front of the dorm, pulling to a stop on the opposite side of this one-way street, with just enough space for another car to drive between our two vehicles if it needed to get by.
The passenger-side window rolls down, and from the driver’s seat, an energetic Grady in a college-brandedpolo—looking more ready for a team-building experience on the golf course than a drive across the country—leans across his brother to shout out toward us, “We’re ready to hit the road at nine!”
“I’m grabbing coffee,” my sister calls out. “Want anything?”
Grady lets out a deep chuckle. “But it’s already almost nine…”
Without missing a beat, Amelia counters, “Good thing I’ve still got three minutes. Anyone for coffee?”
“No, thanks,” Grady says, which Declan and I echo.
“Wow, okay. I’ll be right back.” She quickens her step as she rounds the corner toward a coffee cart.
Declan’s hair is a mess of bedhead beneath the raised hood of his sweatshirt. Grady was doubting an early morning, but Declan seems to be the one having the most difficulty being awake right now. Even so, as I stand around my car awkwardly, Declan gives a small sleepy smile and waves me over.
He pulls out a piece of paper with a brainstormed list of ideas for a road trip–inspired game. I sheepishly hold open the dozen bullet points of similar thought I’d gathered on my notes app.
“Should we actually try to put something together for the teams category?” I ask. If someone had told me a week ago that I’d want to work with Declan on a joint submission, I never would’ve believed it.
He hands me his notes. “We might already have it halfway figured out.”
I laugh, taking a closer look at what Declan’s written, but I haven’t shared my own thoughts since I’m more apprehensive to outright hand him my phone again. “I think we could actually pull this off. It probably wouldn’t win, but might as well try, right?”
“Exactly,” he agrees.
Leaning on the open window of his SUV, I catch a gust of cinnamon and peppermint and…nutmeg? “Your car smells like Christmas?”
Declan sluggishly points toward the freshener tag on the air vent, then to another at the center console, and over his shoulder presumably to more in the back among the pile of duffel bags of stuff.
Grady nods, almost proud, not insulted in the least. “Mom buys them in bulk. Might as well keep that holiday spirit year-round, am I right?”
“Sure, why not?” I say, though skeptical.
Do I keep standing here until Amelia gets back? Should I go wait in the car? Declan is now on his phone, and Grady is just kind of looking at me, perhaps waiting for me to continue the conversation? Or getting a good look in the daylight at the girl his younger brother wants to spend more time with. His staring feels more like friendly curiosity than judgment, but it makes me want to vanish into thin air all the same, unsure how to make a good impression.
“Here, I’ve got the address,” Declan says, reaching to plug his phone in to the car and leaving it on the center console.
“But you’ve got my playlist on, right?” Grady asks, nodding toward the radio.
Declan confirms, but he throws a sly wince in my direction. “Driver’s choice.”
“So, Dex says you’re going to be in Indy this fall too?” Grady asks, gently tapping his fists on the steering wheel, unable to sit still.
“I will be,” I say a little too loudly, swinging my arms at my side, trying to act aloof.
“That’s cool. You two can drive home together for breaks and stuff,” Grady says.
That seems to be what finally wakes Declan up. He turns his shoulders toward me, feeling the need to walk back the certainty of his brother’s statement. “If the timing works out, with classes or whatever.”
“Yeah, yeah, of course,” I say, a little chilled by his sudden indifference. I must’ve been reading too much into our conversation last night.
