Page 90 of The Has-Been

He’s going to grill me for not giving him a heads-up. But this way is way more entertaining—at least for me it is. Scott Vaughn is a hockey legend after all.

Aubrey throws her head back in laughter.

Which makes me forget all about Reid and Reese.

I wish it were always this way between us.

Easy. Carefree.

Simple.

Nothing, though, will ever be simple between us.

We’re not that lucky.

The drive is only about a half hour from campus, but because they are calling for nearly eight inches of snow and around four inches have already fallen, it will likely take much longer.

We planned to leave this morning before the snow came along—carpooling with Reese and Reid. But when Aubrey called to say she had to redo her final, I didn’t want her driving alone in this kind of weather.

Aubrey turns the music up, blaring “Sleeping Lessons” through my Jeep’s speakers. I grin, but force my eyes on the road and not on Aubrey because it’s really starting to get slick out here.

In fact, I reach down, put it in 4x4, before I take off again.

“God, I forgot about this song!” I say, turning up the dial to an impossibly loud volume. Aubrey and I share a lot of things, but our taste in music is definitely my favorite.

The car ride quickly turns into a concert, Aubrey and I singing and swaying to the music.

I steal a glance, giving in to a smile as Aubrey sways her head back and forth, her hair a wild tangle around her.

I slow on the interstate, the traffic coming to a standstill, and I make her replay “1901” by Phoenix so I can sing along. We are crooning at the top of our lungs when a loud knock thuds on my Jeep’s window.

Aubrey and I jump. And we both hastily reach for the volume.

The police officer chuckles, dipping his head in greeting. “Interstate is blocked, kids. Big semi-truck accident up ahead. Both lanes are closed. Hope you don’t have anywhere to be tonight.” He says before moving to the next car.

“Shit,” I curse as I see several cars driving along the median as they take the exit up ahead.

I decide to follow suit, taking the exit and pulling into the nearest gas station. I fill up the tank and walk inside, grabbing Aubrey her favorite road trip snacks—an energy drink and Airheads.

She squeaks with excitement. “Pink Slush! My favorite!”

She exclaims it like it’s nothing more than a happy coincidence that I grabbed her favorite flavor.

I hand them over and get back in the Jeep, cursing at the frigid weather. “Well, what should we do?”

She pulls out her phone, GPS-ing both the campus and the cabin address. But then my phone alerts, I pull it from my pocket, and curse when I realize they are calling for an additional five inches.

“We could take a back road, but my GPS says it’ll take two hours,” Aubrey suggests.

I shrug, considering it.

Then, we watch as cars turn off the exit and follow the same route her phone suggests.

Aubrey sighs, “Seems like everyone else is thinking the same thing.”

“We could head back to campus, leave early in the morning when they have the roads cleared,” I propose. But Aubrey shakes her head and shows me her phone. “Interstate is closed both north and southbound.”

“Fuck.” I murmur. “I guess we can wait here until it clears up and the storm passes?”