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Mimi laughs now and clutches her stomach. “Just say penis.”
I shake my head and keep grinning. “You know what Imean. It’s expected of men. We’re savages. But ladies?” I shake my head. “Uh uh, you’re more sophisticated. A lady waits.”
“Sounds like you and your sexism have been hanging around Carlos too much.” She’s still got her arms folded, but she’s grinning.
“That’s why it’s funny. A lady squatting in the low grass…” I fade away and keep grinning.
“I’m just impressed I didn’t piss all over myself.”
I crack up again.
“I didn’t even splash my shoes either.” Mimi shakes her head. “I’m proud of myself.”
“I’m proud of you too.”
She’s still shaking her head, and we settle back into an easy silence. We cross the border out of Florida and enter Georgia. The heat is the same. The landscape’s the same. The sun is off to our west now and fleeing into land. Andthatis the same.
Everything is the same except for one thing, the dynamic between Mimi and I.
Chapter 8
Mimi
Thewholeafternoonhasbeen a blur of laughing and talking. It felt like old times. Kind of like how our dynamic was before the hook up, except, thereisthe hook up between us.
I think I should ask Sebastian about it, I mean, does a hookup count if we don’t come? But the sexual tension over the last few hours has been growing the more relaxed we’ve become. And I’m not really sure what or where we stand on it. It’s a funny thing…
We’ve stopped for gas again and a bit more food. Everything is normal between us except for the growing tension. Every time a romantic song comes on, we both look at each other. Just a little glance of recognition. But enough for the tension with its billboard sign ofsexto pop up. I can see it in his eyes, and he in mine. We both remember that pantry all too well…
It’s eight o’clock, and we’ve been on the road nearly twelve hours. I’m beat, and I haven’t done any driving. Not that I haven't wanted to, but Sebastian insists. I don’t take it to heart because he doesn’t mean it in any other way than that he just enjoys driving. And I enjoy sitting and chatting with him.
It almost seems possible… Us being together.
“So I was looking at the money in the bag from Sophie, and I think she’s put enough in there for a few stays.” He’s looking at the bag at my feet.
“Plus plane tickets back,” I say, taking the tickets out of said bag. “Which we’ll have to change at the airport.”
Sebastian nods and keeps driving. He looks tired too, but he’s never yawned once. We’re on the outside, somewhere in the middle of Georgia. We’ve made great progress on the first day, and now he’s just looking for the right motel. He wants one with cable. Keeps saying something about a fight, or UFC. The thought of men fighting like that makes my eyes roll. But we finally find one, and he pulls in.
“So I was thinking we’ll park the van in front of my room,” he says.
The phrase hurts me. Like a slap in the face after the last few hours that we shared.Hisroom? Then again, what was I expecting because of us enjoying driving? Do I figure that because we joked that we’d hook up? I look at him hurt.
“No?” he asks, suddenly worried by the look on my face.
“So we’re taking separate rooms then?” I ask.
“What? I didn’t mean it like that. I just—” he blinks in confusion. “No, I just—” Sebastian shakes his head.
“Is my brother really that threatening to you?” I’ve decided we’re having this conversation.
Sebastian pulls to a stop in front of reception. “We’re not talking about that. And no.” He gets out.
I get out too. “So he does, though? That’s why we can’t do anything. All these last hours were just for nothing?”
“What?” he says. He’s searching his pockets for the keys, forgetting he never took them out of the van. He goes back. “That’s not what I said or meant when I said I’d enjoyed these last few hours. I had fun. I—”
“Just still couldn’t hook up with me because of Carlos,” I say. We may have joked all day, but I guess the pain is still there. Am I that tired that Iwantto pick this fight?
