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“So, Long Island, huh?” she asked, glancing over at him. He glanced back.
“Yeah, Long Island. The accent comes and goes – people say it gets worse when I get nervous or mad. I was born there.”
She nodded and was silent for a moment. He looked over at her, saw her picking at her thumb again. He could tell she was trying to figure out whether or not to say something, so he decided a little shove was in order. “So,Carolina, you gonna give me a clue as to your background, or do I get to start making one up? Three words –test tube baby.”
“Oh my god,” she snorted, “alright, alright. Iamfrom South Carolina, alright? I don’t like to tell people I get rides with, it can be dangerous. Plus, I haven’t been there in a long time. I don’t really think of it as home.”
“I know how that goes. Long Island hasn’t seemed like home for a long time.”
“Sometimes ... it feels like home is just another place, you know? When you’re young home is the place to be, it’s always there. But later, now ... well, sometimes it feels like I’m a stranger there,” she said softly, shifting down lower in her seat and staring out the window. Parker glanced over at her.
“Like it’s not home at all and you can’t really remember when it ever did feel like home,” he offered. She slowly smiled and turned to look at him.
“Exactly.”
Parker felt something tighten in his chest.
I really like this girl.
They drove for a couple hours till Paige asked him to pull off and look for a Walmart. Parker agreed, it was definitely supply time, and they quickly found the large store. He parked in one of the farthest parking spots from the door. Paige rolled her eyes as she got out of the car.
“Okay, what’s the deal? Why back here?” she asked. He got out of his side and leisurely stretched.
“Hey, man, can’t worry about my baby getting scratched,” he explained, smiling as he slammed his door. Paige guffawed.
“You cannot be serious. I keep waiting for the back panel to fall off from rust, and you’re worried about scratches?”
“What did I say about making fun of my car? Better back off, I just might have pictures of a certain someone drooling all over herself last night, and I might feel like sharing them with random strangers.”
Paige shut up.
Once inside the giant store, Paige walked off abruptly without a backwards glance. Parker shrugged and headed off on his own. He grabbed a basket and began to fill it with essentials – potato chips, nacho chips, corn chips, pork rinds. Some red bulls. A box of cup-o-noodles. Jerky! A styrofoam cooler!? Parker couldn’t figure out why he hadn’t thought of stopping in a Walmart before and quickly had to transfer his items from a basket to a large shopping cart. He continued on and then loaded up on razors and shampoo and some other bathroom essentials.
He lazily pushed the cart down a wide aisle, resting most of his weight on his foot on the bottom of the cart while gently pushing with his free leg. He spotted Paige and watched her as she sifted through a rack full of shorts. She was completely unaware of him, or anyone else. He rarely got to see her in such an unguarded manner. He so carefully avoided looking at her, sometimes he forgot just how good looking she truly was; she wasstunning. Even in her ratty shorts and well-worn leggings, she was a show stopper.
He smiled when she snorted before moving on to a wall full of leggings, then he continued on with his search. He threw a couple t-shirts in his cart, a bright neon pink hoodie that made him laugh, and then headed to wait up front for her. He figured it'd look better if he wasn't caught stalking her through the store.
She appeared almost ten minutes later, after he'd gotten heavily involved in a comic he found. She had her own basket and the biggest Slurpie he'd ever seen in his life. She meandered slowly towards him, glancing at the racks she passed. She finally came to a stop next to him and looked over his shoulder to read the comic along with him. He stared at her for a second.
“Uh, ready?” he asked. She shrugged, slurping away on the Slurpie.
“Whenever. I don’t mind hanging out in here, it’s air conditioned,” she commented before reaching over his arm and turning the page on his comic.
“Hey, Sharona has air conditioning,” he pointed out. She glanced up at him.
“The Beast does not have air conditioning, The Beast belches radiator fumes back into the car at a slightly cooler than Hell temperature. You should get that looked at,” she responded, reaching to the turn the page again. He yanked the comic out of her reach.
“Hey! What do you mean, ‘The Beast’? And how would you know what it belches, you always have the window down.”
“The Beast is most definitely The Beast’s legitimate name and believe me, it belches enough that everyone on the road behind us even knows it’s 'The Beast'.”
“Well I can’t smell anything overyou,” he said before smacking her over the head with the comic and hustling into a checkout stand.
“Excuse me!?” she demanded in a shrill voice, hurrying up behind him as he began to unload his cart onto the belt.
“You heard me, woman,” he said in a mock-macho voice. She glared for a second before rolling her eyes.
“Whatever. Did you buy out the whole store?” she asked, changing the subject. She seemed amazed at the vast quantity of junk food he was purchasing.
