The Friends

February 20, 2018
By jannimere BRONZE, Centerville, Texas
jannimere BRONZE, Centerville, Texas
4 articles 0 photos 0 comments

The windows of the Scion rolled slowly down until they were out of view, letting the warm August air blow through the car. Through the now-open window, Becky looks up at the stars. They are barely visible with the light pollution from the city, but she can still manage to make a few out. “Rock Me Amadeus” booms from the tiny car’s radio, but somehow everything is calm.

Becky looks down at the floorboard under her.  In the tattered grocery bag lies three separate pints of ice cream, one for each girl in the car.

“Jill, if you don’t drive any faster, we’re going to spend tomorrow morning cleaning ice cream off the floor of your dad’s car,” Becky whined. She didn’t want to interrupt the calm of the night or the computerized synth, but she was anxious to get home.

From the driver’s seat, Jill said nothing. She only rolled her eyes.

With the spur of conversation, Vivian started up on a story the other two hadn’t heard before, but didn’t really care to listen to. Still, Vivian talked, and still, the girls listened.

The noise in the car dies down for a moment as the last few notes of the song play. At the start of the next, Vivian speaks up again.

“So, Becky, are you staying with us tonight?”

Becky tries to hide her dread - she doesn’t want to be rude, but she also wants to go home - before she says a muddled-up version of the truth.

“Probably not. I have things to do tomorrow, and it’s just easier if I get up and get started right away.”

It wasn’t a lie, but cleaning her room would take Becky all of 10 minutes in the morning, she could easily go home in the afternoon to do it. But sitting in the front seat of the dirty Scion and listening to the New Wave songs that all sound the same, Becky wants nothing more than to lay down in her own bed. Tell her own parents good night. Wake up by herself the next morning. Make her own breakfast. To not worry about anyone else.

“I can drive you back to your house in the morning, you live two minutes away,” Jill’s reasoning was sincere, but Becky could tell her friends were on to her.

Jill pulls into the driveway. As she turns the car off, she makes a comment about eating ice cream until she pukes, and they all get out.

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