Given that he’s reopened the flip-flop chat, I’m tempted to reopen the ‘Howdid you get so anal?’ conversation, but I think it’s best not to.
It feels like we’re at a bit of a crossroads metaphorically as well as road-wise. We could start to get to know each other properly again, fill each other in on what’s been happening in our lives, or we could… not.
We’re still looking at each other, and we just sit there frozen for a long moment, staring into each other’s eyes.
Maybe he’s thinking exactly the same thing as I am.
My eyes are drawn lower. He’s sosolid. And big, right there next to me. I could just reach out and put my hand on his nicely muscled thigh.
I smother a laugh at the thought of what would happen if I did. I’m guessing he’d leap a mile.
‘Something funny?’ Callum’s looking straight at me with raised eyebrows.
‘I was just thinking…’ And oh myGod, I just nearly told him what I was thinking about his thigh. I amfartoo tired; I need to be careful.
This is actually what happened to me when we split up. I just wanted to talk to Callum, tell him how I was feeling about the split, because he was my best friend as well as lover and the only person who would have been able to fully understand what I was feeling and with whom I could have been fully open.
And now he’s the only person who would understand how ridiculously conflicted I feel right now.
On the one hand I want to dive in and explore the life of the (still gorgeous) grown-up Callum sitting next to me, but on the other I want to find out nothing more and live this trip like we’re very surface-level acquaintances, because it feels like that would be so much safer for me sanity-wise.
I don’t want to have what-ifs and regrets after this trip and I don’t know what I will regret more. I really don’t know what I want to do.
I do know that I am not in fact going to discuss my dilemma with him.
And shit we’ve been sitting at this junction for… how long? I need to turn out.
‘Right or left?’ I ask.
‘Right,’ he croaks. The croaking makes me smile inside, even though it shouldn’t, because it would hurt alotif I thought he was entirely unaffected by seeing me.
As I work my way up through the gears, I decide that for the time being I’m going to go for mere acquaintanceship-level relations with Callum and no more. There’s time to change my mind (although obviously he might not want to engage and I would totally understand if that were the case) but once I start asking questions and getting answers (if I do) I can’t go back.
So I say, ‘Funny how rainy it was this time yesterday and how lovely it is now.’
‘Yeah,’ Callum says.
And then for the next hour and a bit, we listen to music and exchange maybe fifty words, all related to directions.
I’m finding myself getting my words mixed up and forgetting what Callum just said about directions and my head’s bobbing a bit. I realise that I’ve been in danger of nodding off. I blink really hard and do some (probably very weird) face-yoga type movements, and roll my shoulders a bit, but none of it works. I just keep feeling as though I’m on the brink of sinking into sleep. And we’re in the middle lane of the motorway.
‘Are you okay?’ Callum’s possibly been alerted to the fact that something’s up by the way I’m jiggling my upper body and taking deep breaths in an attempt to shake the tiredness.
‘I have to turn off.’ I’m panicking a bit. ‘I’m going to go to sleep at the wheel otherwise.’
‘Okay, no, it’s going to be fine. I’m going to watch the road as well and we’re going to talk and I’m going to keep you awake, and then we’re going to turn off as soon as we can. I think there are services in fifteen kilometres.’
‘That’s ages.’ I can actually feel my whole body going into a deep slumbery state. The road is so long and straight andboring. ‘I’dlovea traffic jam right now.’ I could stretch and roll the window down and look around and have a drink of water. Actually, water’s a good idea. Cold liquid might wake me up a bit. ‘Could you pass me some water?’
‘Of course. And while I’m getting it, can I interest you in a joke to keep you awake?’
‘I’d love a wake-me-up joke,’ I say sleepily.
‘What’s brown and sticky?’
‘Heard it before,’ I say, still sleepily. ‘From you.’ I’m too tired to make the effort not to mention the past. ‘Stick.’
‘Nicely remembered. And I think you’ll agree it’s still a fantastic joke.’
