Two Girls in a Car

I am quiet as we drive.

My friend Analise had begged me for days to come to the beach with her and my frenemy, Bailey. I finally agreed after she bribed me with chocolate. Chocolate is my one weakness. But three days ago, Analise came down with the flu. Or so she claims. Analise is sneaky and she has been hinting that I should give Bailey a chance. She wants a "friend group" before we go away to college. But every time I try to talk to Bailey, she says something that just gets under my skin and I leave her alone.

I really just want to go home right now, but we're already an hour into the drive. After a few awkward text messages between Bailey and I and a bombardment of pleading messages from Analise, Bailey had agreed to come pick me up and drive me to the shore. I wish I had just said no. Bailey's silence as she keeps her eyes determinately on the road and away from me is even worse than her usual annoying chitchat.

The car is dead silent as we drive. "So," I say, just to break the silence, "have you come to this beach before?"

"No," Bailey mutters, and goes back to her stony quiet. Okay then. She doesn't want to talk. Neither do I. Fine.

But then she says stiffly, "Have you?"

"Um, yes," I answer, surprised. "There's a really good ice cream place. Maybe we could go."

"Yeah, we... could," she offers. Maybe Bailey does want to be my friend. I mean, it wouldn't be awful.

Then she says, "Well, we might not even have time. So we shouldn't start planning a trip now, right?"

Ugh. She accepts my invitation to go get ice cream and then makes up an excuse why we shouldn't go. Bailey is going to get yelled at if she continues along this path of thought. "Yeah, I guess," I mutter.

"But if we do go, like, what flavors do they have?" she asks curiously. She seems to regret the interested tone she adopted and follows up with, "Not that it really matters anyway. I mean, who cares, you know?"

No, I don't, I want to scream at her, but bite my lip for Analise's sake. If I'm going to do this, I might as well keep my goal in mind. Going back and forth with Bailey would not be a fun way to spend this trip.

"They have your average flavors and stuff, like vanilla, moose tracks, cookies and cream, but then also some super wacky ones like Midnight Caramel River and Brownie Smore. It's cool."

"I would definitely get Brownie Smore. I'm a devoted chocolate lover," Bailey says with a laugh.

"Oh my gosh, really? Same!"

For the next five minutes, we gush about the amazingness of chocolate, but after a while an awkward silence fills the air.

"Um, so, do you live with your parents, or..."

I look at Bailey, trying not to feel annoyed. I'm pretty sure everyone in school knows about my parents' situation by now. I hate explaining it, because the person I'm talking to gives me a wry smile and says something that's supposed to be comforting but just makes me feel sad. I really miss my mom and dad. "No, I don't," I say tightly. Silently, I will her not to press.

"O-oh. Wow, do you have your own place already? I mean, that's... woah."

"No, I live with my grandparents." A yell fights to be released, but I press my lips together.

"Are your parents..." She pauses, then blurts out, "Are your parents d-dead?"

"Oh. No," I tell her. "They're, um. You've probably heard stories. They're the ones, uh, in rehab."

"Oh! Er... I'm really sorry."

"Yeah, me too." Secretly, I kind of hate my parents, as much as I do love them. Why did they have to go out so many nights when I was little? Spend all their money on alcohol? Get addicted? And then now, leaving me all alone to cure a problem they shouldn't have had in the first place.

"Can I tell you something?" Bailey asks quietly.

"Shoot."

She pulls over and parks by the curb. "My mom is... she has... um, well, that is..." And then she stops and turns away from me.

"Bailey?" I say uncertainly. She sniffles, and then I realize she's crying.

Wait. Bailey is crying? Oh god.

I probably should comfort her, but I've always been trash at making people feel better. "Um, are you okay?" I mumble.

Her head whips towards me. She gestures to her face, which has tears running down it and red blotches in random places. "Do I look okay, Ana?"

"No," I admit, flat-out.

"Exactly. My mom has cancer, okay? She is going to die. I know this for a fact, so don't try to comfort me."

"Oh, Bailey, that's- that's really awful! I'm so sorry! I didn't know!" I feel slightly hysterical, trying frantically to make this girl, who, only minutes ago, was my closest thing to an enemy, feel better. If she keeps crying, my waterworks are going to start up. And we don't want that, because once I get started crying, those tears don't stop easily.

"Bailey, I know how that feels. My dad, he- One time he had only beer for three days, nothing else to eat or drink. It was really scary. He had to be hospitalized and everything. So I know this isn't exactly the same thing, but I'm just saying, I know how it is having a parent come really close to dying. It's terrible. Just know I'm here, okay?"

Bailey gives me a look like she's considering just screaming at me, You know nothing about how this feels, because you are nothing like me. But then she takes off her seatbelt and clings to me, shaking with sobs, and then I put my arms around her.

It's not perfect; it's actually kind of awkward at first, with me giving her as much as a hug as I can manage with a seatbelt holding me in place and her face basically shoved into my stomach. Part of her shirt has been folded up oddly, showing a bare patch of skin, and my hoodie is bunched around her head. But then we both loosen up a little bit and it's not so bad.

It's kind of nice to have another human wrapped around me, really. My grandparents are nice, but they're not really the physical type. We don't hug or sit side by side on a bed while one of them brushes my hair. I love them, and they love me, don't get me wrong, but our relationship is just not like that. My mom and dad were never around that much to do physical stuff, so I've never really had a touchy-feely connection with them either.

Now, doing this with Bailey, I feel like I've been underwater my whole life and I'm finally coming up for air. Why have I let myself miss out on this? Having such a special bond with another person that you're comfortable getting close to each other, touching each other? I have wanted this with every fiber of my being and never even began to realize it until now.

I pull Bailey closer. We have a real friendship now. "Thank you," she whispers into my side. I stroke her head until her tears slow and her face is no longer blotchy.

We never do end up going to the beach itself. Bailey and I sit in the car for a long time, just being together. Somewhere in the middle she touches my hand with her own. I touch it back. And then she takes hold of my hand and entwines her fingers with it. I'm not sure if she means it as friendship or romantically, but either way I enjoy her skin on mine. I don't let go.

Even when Bailey starts to drive again. Even when we get out of the car. Even when we both eat our Brownie Smore ice cream on a bench together. Even when she brings my hand up to her lips and gives it a soft kiss. I want her to know that I'm there, and I care, and I always will be. We start back home in a comfortable silence.

I am quiet as we drive.