Lying With Curt

Chapter 14

Curtis Salazar

I don't need to watch Timmy drive or keep my eyes on the road to see and notice how slow he is freaking driving. It is comical and insane. I pull myself up from my lying position and my arms on both front seat, leaning my head really close to Timmy's ear. The scent of his hair hits me then his smell and I wonder if it's because of how my eyes hurt from all the crying that I've been doing today that my nostrils are super active. It's calming, Timmy scent. It's what calmed me at the ice rink, it's what I want to keep smelling now.

Timmy's too absorbed in driving like a dead brained cripple to notice me close to him. I can just maintain this position and keep smelling him until I fall asleep or he notices but then that's so creepy and what the fuck Curt? Your head might be mushed up but get your shit together.

"You know," I start saying and Timmy gasps, clicking the button for the windshield wipers while at it. I hold in my chuckle and continue, "you can get a ticket for crawling on the road like this."

"The fuck Curt?" Timmy asks, not even having the courage and confidence to glance back at me in annoyance. "If we crash, it's going to be your fault." He blindly taps the area under the steering wheel, "how do I stop this... movement?!"

I sigh, leaning in so part my body is in front, I feel Timmy stop breathing and for some reason, I smirk and linger a bit before turning the wipers off. "There. Can you please drive faster now?"

"Nope and since you're feeling better, you can come take the wheel now, no questions asked."

I pout and relax my head on his shoulder, well barely, "I'm not better."

"Curt!"

I break into a chuckle, unable to help myself. "I'm helping you out here, sooner or later, you'd have to get comfortable with driving."

"I go with later," Timmy says without missing a beat. "Like, later later."

I groan, "do you know grandma Milton?"

"Um, yeah."

"You know how she's kinda blind now and forgetful and almost always scared?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I've seen her drive and she drives a thousand times faster than you and she's blind," Timmy rolls his eyes and I laugh. "A blind grandma Timmy, a blind person drives faster than you. Don't do me like this."

"Ha ha, very funny. You're not getting to me though. Want speed? Take the fucking wheel."

I sigh, giving up. "Is this an Asian thing?"

"Are you about to be racist with me right now?"

I raise both hands up in surrender, "no, I'm just asking. If it is, I could flourish so well as driver if I move back there."

"I'm not even going to answer you Curt," he says, then answers. "It's a Timmy thing— I think."

I don't say anything and just watch Timmy drive until he drives into a filling station not with the aim of buying gas though as he packs at the far end of the lot. Timmy gets out the car and opens the door for me even if I don't look like I want to come out. "Get out and make yourself comfortable while I go get us something to eat."

Timmy walks off before I can say anything else and I roll my eyes doing as he said and getting comfortable at the trunk of the car with the cover above us blocking the sun out. Timmy returns about ten minutes later with two slushies and one pack of cheese Doritos (as Flipz is to Timmy, Cheesy Doritos are to me) and a Reeses for himself. He silently sits next to me, handing me my goodies and holding out his slushie. I hit his with mine, muttering "cheers" and then we drink at the same time. Way back before Timmy and I became old enough to drink, as kids we would treat slushies as our alcohol. Treating it the way we saw people do in the movies, sometimes we'd even stagger after drinking it all, pretending we were drunk and then laugh at our stupidity.