Wanderlust Fading

The first drop of rain hit the windshield unassumingly, and without any acknowledgment from Alex or Ross. Within minutes, the wipers were going full blast as they sped through the downpour that seemed to come out of nowhere. It was that heavy kind of rain that acted as if it was on the attack, hitting the car so loudly they could barely hear the radio warning them about flash flooding in the area. The roaring noise was a welcome excuse not to have to talk. Until then, the two had spent the day relying on the radio to fill the gaps between attempts at small talk and one-word answers. This wasn’t like them. This wasn’t their relationship. They had been best friends since middle school and although they had had their tiffs on occasion, this was different somehow. They hadn’t actually had a fight, but the tension was deep, and felt more permanent.

“Man, this is insane,” Ross said, leaning forward at the wheel trying to peer through the wall of rain.

“Yeah,” Alex said, flatly with a quick glance up before returning his attention to his phone.

Ross looked over to Alex, back to the rain, and did a double-take toward his friend as he picked up on the careless tone in Alex’s voice. “Dude, what’s your problem?”

Alex rolled his eyes and raised his hands defensively. “What. What do you mean?”

“I mean you’ve been over there sulking since New Orleans!”

Alex only shook his head in silence. They were nearing the end of their trip with one stop left and he just wanted to get through it and get back home. They had started in Raleigh, North Carolina, where they both lived, gone up the coast to New York, and circled around the country in Ross’ old Toyota RAV4, hitting key stops like Mount Rushmore, Las Vegas, the Grand Canyon, and more. New Orleans was where it all went downhill.

The boys grew up in the Raleigh area and now waited tables at a swanky restaurant downtown. They had talked about taking this road trip since high school. When they hit twenty-one and finally admitted that they would definitely not be pursuing college careers, they decided to make the trip happen and started saving their money. It was easy to do. They still had some help from their parents - Ross still lived with his - and most nights, they made more money than they knew what to do with. They informed their employer that they’d both be gone for the whole month of September. Alex was hopeful that after this trip, he would be able to start working in the kitchen. He wanted to be a chef.

They spent several days in each place, soaking it all in, with the unspoken knowledge that they might not ever see these places again. It was a blast. They met people and saw things that blew their minds, and ate every minute of it up with a carefree fascination that’s only possible when you’re young and without responsibilities. They camped, found shabby motels, youthful hostels, and only occasionally splurged on nice hotel rooms, depending on the city, and whether or not they were planning to pick up girls. When they arrived in New Orleans, they had finally recuperated from their L.A. and Vegas shenanigans and were ready to party again.

They found a nice hostel downtown called The Duval that boasted the old-fashioned New Orleans charm, while offering all the modern amenities a young traveler could ask for. Their first two nights were spent partying, exploring the city, and getting to know the other travelers at the hostel. They met a group of girls that were there for the week and Ross quickly had them eating out of the palm of his hand with the (slightly exaggerated) tales of their travels. Alex was intrigued by Olivia, a quiet girl with sandy blond hair, who seemed equally interested in him. They talked about their hopes and plans for the future. He didn’t talk about these things with Ross, and after almost a month of wanderlust, he was happy to think about the possibilities that the real world had to offer again. On the third night, the whole group bar hopped for hours until they were all in a drunken stupor.

As they stumbled down the streets, Alex caught a glimpse of a poster advertising the New Orleans Culinary and Hospitality Institute. He stopped in his tracks and examined the ad carefully. A curiosity boiled up inside of him. Ross looked back to his friend and turned around, shouldering up to him to examine the poster.

“Now, what are we looking at here?” Ross asked with a mockingly serious tone.

“Culinary school,” Alex said, lazily pointing a finger at the poster.

Ross scrunched his face.

“Aaaand, why?” he asked.

“Just looked interesting.”

“Oh, you gonna give an arm and a leg to these people just to learn how to flip an omelet? Come on, man, you know how to cook. What a waste of time.”

Ross gave Alex a playful slap on the back and continued on to catch up with the group. Alex wasn’t surprised by this response but it didn’t disappoint him any less. Ross was the kind of person who was always the life of the party. He was fun to be around and kept life interesting. But his carefree attitude often turned into mockery toward any suggestion of actually trying to achieve anything, especially when he was drinking. Alex took a picture of the poster, knowing they were leaving the next day and that tonight would just be a blur by morning. Ross caught up to the girls, throwing an arm around two of them as they rambled down the street.

“Come on, Alex!” Ross yelled back.

“Yeah, come on, Alex!” a few of the girls repeated, giggling.

Alex caught up to them just as they got to the next bar. They ordered a round of drinks and piled around a large pub-style table. Alex was quiet for the rest of the night. He couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility of culinary school and becoming a real chef, about his dream of owning his own restaurant, and about his best friend’s negative reaction to it. He knew Ross had no desire to grow up anytime soon, or to even consider it. The future was a non-issue in Ross’ eyes. There was only now. Alex often admired this and at times was even envious that Ross managed it so effortlessly. But it just wasn’t who Alex was. He did have thoughts about the future, and only recently began to consider turning those thoughts into actual plans, no matter how real and terrifying that might make them.

When they got back to the hostel, they decided to have one more drink at the hostel bar. Alex opted out and went back to his bunk, passing out almost immediately. He woke up an hour later and stumbled to the community bathrooms. On the way back to his room, he glanced down the hallway with foggy eyes to see Ross and Olivia standing just outside the girls’ room door. She smiled up at him as he pressed her against the wall, putting his hands on her waist. Alex watched as they kissed deeply and fumbled for the doorknob before disappearing inside. Alex went back to his bunk and spend the rest of the night tossing and turning.

In the morning, they met up with the girls for a late breakfast. Everyone in the group periodically groaned and ordered greasy dishes, skipping over the extensive mimosa list on offer. Ross and Olivia sat next to each other, tickling and flirting throughout the meal. Alex avoided eye contact with both of them. After breakfast, the guys checked out of the hostel and said their goodbyes. Their next major stop before home was Nashville but that was a good eight hours away. Ross suggested stopping somewhere along the way to break up the rest of the trip, but Alex wasn’t interested. He wanted to get back home as quickly as possible. Ross didn’t think much about Alex’s moodiness and chalked it up to him being hungover. So, they started the long drive north.

They were not far into Tennessee when the rain hit. There wasn’t much to be seen and conditions were terrible but they only had about an hour left before Nashville. At that point, they were both ready to get there no matter what. They couldn’t see more than ten feet in front of them. Ross had slowed down, trying to keep an eye on the white line.

“I mean, are you pissed off about me hooking up with Olivia, or what?” Ross shouted over the thunderous rain. “Because it’s not like you were making any moves. You barely even talked to anyone last night!”

Alex just shook his head again. Ross continued.

“What’s it even matter? She’s just some girl neither of us will ever see again!”

“How about you just worry about the road, huh?” Alex fired back.

“Oh! You want to worry about the road? Fine,” he said, letting his foot off the gas. “You can drive.”

He veered to the right. There was a significant bump as the tires crossed over from the asphalt shoulder to dirt and gravel, followed by a resounding pop! that was just loud enough to be heard over the rain. The car pulled abruptly to the right before Ross pressed harder on the breaks, sliding them to a sudden stop.

“What the fuck was that?” Alex demanded.

“I think it’s a flat,” Ross said.

“Okay. Well, we gotta fix it, we can’t just sit here.”

Alex got out, bracing himself for the soaking he was about to get. Ross followed suit. They examined the tire to find a small piece of shrapnel wedged into the rubber.

“We’re gonna have to use the spare!” Alex shouted with a scrunched face as the rain beat down on them.

Ross opened the back hatch, shoving their bags out of the way and lifting the panel to the spare. Alex came around and lifted the small donut out along with the kit underneath. He started to carry it all to the front when the state of the tire caught his eye. He set it down to examine more closely. The edges were cracking and the pressure seemed low.

“Dry rot,” he said, shaking his head and throwing the tire back into the car.

“What?” Ross said, looking back and forth between Alex and the tire.

“It’s fucking dry rotted!”

Ross looked dumbfounded.

“But, why?”

“Why?” Alex scathed. “Probably because it’s as old as the car! Because you don’t take care of your shit and you never plan for anything!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know!”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t would you? That would require actually thinking about something. Man, you always do this shit. You don’t think about anything, ever!”

“Why are you going off on me? You’re all bent out of shape over some random girl and you’re pissed at me -”

Alex shoved him out from under the cover of the door hatch into the rain.

“It’s not about the girl! It’s about you! And the fact that you absolutely suck as a friend and a person!”

Ross steamed forward and shoved him back. The two locked arms, shuffling behind the car. Ross broke an arm free and swung, landing his knuckles squarely onto Alex’s jawbone. The blow forced them apart. Alex fired back, getting in a good shot at Ross’ eye. They grabbed each other again, stumbling back and forth until Alex slipped on the wet gravel, taking them both sliding down the muddy embankment off the road. They landed at the bottom of the four foot drop soaking wet and covered in mud, bruises already emerging and scrapes from the gravel. They gradually got to their feet, out of breath and still squinting through the rain. Both of them stood with fists clenched. They stared each other down until Ross relaxed his hands again, and after a moment of reluctant consideration, Alex followed.

“Look, I’m sorry!” Ross shouted over the rain. “You’re the smart one. You always have been. I know I don’t think about things like I should. And I know it was shitty of me to hookup with that girl. But you are the one that actually has some potential and you never do anything about it! What do you want me to say?”

Alex softened. He waved off the remarks and carefully started back up the slope. Ross followed and as they emerged at the top, a passing car slowed down, rolling the passenger window down just enough to speak to them.

“You boys alright?” the man asked, eying them up and down with concern.

They looked at each other and tried to set aside their anger for the moment.

“We got a flat and our spare is no good,” Alex responded, not expecting much help. He was embarrassed about the whole situation.

The man pulled ahead and off the road to help them. He helped them put the new tire on as they described their trek around the country. Once they were done, he gave them directions to the nearest motel and explained that there was a mechanic shop nearby that would be open the next morning where they could get a real replacement. They tried to give him cash for all his help but he refused, only wanting to make sure they got back on the road safely.

They got to the motel and checked into separate rooms, each taking a long, hot shower to warm up and try to forget the day. Alex put on dry clothes and lied on the bed watching TV when he heard a knock at the door. He rolled his eyes and got up to let Ross in before plopping back on the bed and staring back at the TV again. Ross handed him a beer and sat in the desk chair. They sat in silence like this for half an hour. Ross finally spoke up.

“I think you should go for that cooking school thing. If that’s what you want to do.”

Alex looked over to him, surprised that he even remembered it.

“I thought it was a ‘waste of time’,” Alex responded, flatly.

“I mean. I know you wanna do something more with your life than wait tables and party with me, and if being a chef or whatever is what you want - then you should do it.”

Alex quickly glanced over and back to the TV again, before nodding in acknowledgment. Ross continued.

“I know you think I don’t care or think about anything other than what’s in front of me, but,” he paused. Alex shook his head and interjected.

“I’m sorry about what I said out there. I mean, you are a dipshit. But I know you think about things. Sometimes, anyway.”

He offered a smirk. Ross smiled back at him. After a few moments, the tension seemed to be easing.

“Look, we don’t have to do Nashville. We can just get this tire fixed tomorrow and head home,” Ross said. “We can always go there another time.”

Somehow, they both knew this was a lie. They didn’t know why, but there was a feeling that they would be parting ways soon, and a future trip to Nashville just wasn’t in the cards.

“No,” Alex said, after thinking on it for a moment. “It’s our last stop. We’ve still got plenty of time. We should go.”

Ross nodded, with a smile coming back to his face.

“’Nother beer while we figure out our plan for tomorrow?” he asked.

Alex examined his almost-empty bottle.

“Yeah,” he said, with a slight smile. “Let’s do it.”