The Wilde Expedition

36. the little things

Copyright © 2015. All Rights Reserved.

〮CHAPTER THIRTY SIX 〮

Rory and Evan stood outside their condo watching the Wild Childe back out onto the street. Rory had her arms folded over her chest, guarding herself against the cold chill while Evan waved his hand up to us, gesturing his farewells. On our way out of view, I held my hand out the open window, mimicking his goodbye-wave.

Gavin navigated the streets of Santa Fe one last time before we hit the road towards Amarillo, which would take us on a round-about journey over the Texan border, and lead to a straight shot down the west side of the state. He started to get all giddy over the thought of the ocean again, and wondered whether, when we got to Stonecroft, it would be too long of a drive to take a trip there.

"Yeah, it's about an hour drive to the ocean," I told him.

"So? Let's go anyway, it'll be great. One last kick, ya know? Before I leave."

It was the first time since our initial travel-together decision that we discussed our departure. The thought caused my throat to tighten, and I just kept thinking, Oh God, I better not cry when he actually does leave. I hated crying.

"Yeah, maybe," I said, a smile forcing itself onto my lips.

"Aw, you sad? You gonna miss me?" he cooed jokingly, reaching over and prodding my side. "Huh?"

"Stop it, I'm sad because I won't be able to pick on you anymore," I said, and poked his shoulder and then his neck, and then his cheek. He lit up in a huge, kiddish smile. "Good Lord, how much candy did Rory and Evan give you?"

"Shut up, my head still kills, you know," he complained, but his voice said he was still kidding around. After a few minutes of complete silence, other than the CD playing, even the track paused. That few seconds stressed me out, but it broke away as soon as the next song came on and made me reconsider every terrible thought that was on my head just moments ago.

"No way, no way—Gavin-" I panicked instantly, slapping his leg repeatedly as the giddiest smile ever spread across his face. It was too difficult to not laugh with a look like that on his face, and I ended up sputtering with laughter into my hands to prevent him from seeing how ridiculous I looked.

In any case, he looked even more ridiculous.

"'When I wake up, well I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who wakes up next to you-' C'mon Emma, sing!" he shouted, and grabbed for my arm to drag me into the duet. I squealed, but willingly relented, leaning up against his side as he swayed us back and forth to the quick, abrupt beat.

"'If I get drunk, well I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who gets drunk next to you!'" I sang, most likely tone deaf and screechy and we laughed all the same.

"'BUT I WOULD WALK 500 MILES AND I WOULD WALK 500 MORE!'" Gavin was screaming at the top of his lungs now- "'JUST TO BE THE MAN WHO WALKED A THOUSAND MILES TO FALL DOWN AT YOUR DOOR!'"

The van swerved a bit, but we were on a completely deserted road so the panic was short-lived. We sang the entire length of the song going down that tireless road back home, and when it ended, I made sure it played again in between the Bowling for Soup tracks, or Smash Mouth. As we crossed the border into Texas, Gavin was talking about how he wanted to go to Brazil next year—"You should come with."

"I bet you say that to all the girls," I joked, nudging my arm up against his.

"Damn, you got me there," he chuckled, his soft smile turned towards me in the midst of me lip-synching to that ridiculously old song A Thousand Miles, and what made it worse was that I knew all the lyrics when Gavin only had the piano instrumental version.