Polaroids and Postcards | ✔️

Chapter 25: Irony + Surprises

"The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes." - Marcel Proust

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Irony is a concept that, at certain times of my life, I have found amusing-humorous even. For instance, it's funny to watch a TV show where the guy ends up with the girl he originally disliked. It's entertaining to read a book where someone does something crazy after leading a very simple, balanced life. It's intriguing to hear of someone going on an adventure when all they want to do is stay home and live a simple, quiet life.

But these were fictional cases.

I was not amused by the sense of irony in my own life.

I was finding myself falling for a girl I was bound to hate at the beginning. I was driving across the country with the same girl I was falling for. And I was living anything but an uncomplicated life.

That, and I told Della that I hated surprises.

The irony in this simple statement was due to the fact that the rest of the day was going to be nothing but surprises. I just didn't know it yet.

However, the depth of my situation truly began to set in right as Della began to explain how much she appreciated the plethora of wildflowers that seemed to perpetually line the edges of the roads here in Texas. The moment was ruined only by a sudden ear-puncturing explosion.

Yes... an explosion.

Della screamed and curled into a ball in the passenger's seat. Her arms flung over her head in a protective gesture. If I hadn't been driving, I would've probably done the same thing.

Unsure of what to do, I swerved, feeling the car sharply veering to the left. Something was wrong-it wasn't driving properly anymore. And here's the thing... I was a decently strong guy, but I could barely control it. It was as if the entire car's weight was against me!

Cars zipped past us on either side, some honking their horns in anger at my crazy driving. I wished I could scream that it wasn't my fault, but I guess I was a little preoccupied with not dying.

As I forced it off the highway, the Beetle finally screeched to a halt. We were just lucky I didn't crash the thing.

After I realized how badly my hands were shaking, I noticed that Della was still curled into the fetal position beside me. She obviously wasn't thinking about the wildflowers of Texas anymore.

"Hey..." I caught my breath. "You good?" My ears started ringing-probably because of the adrenaline rush.

She let out a dry chuckle. "I'm not dead."

I thought she added something else under her breath as she turned away, but I couldn't hear it because of my ears, so I didn't even bother asking.

"I think we blew a tire!" I said, a little too loudly.

Stupid ears...

Upon inspecting the car, we discovered, just as I suspected, that a tire was indeed flat. Not too surprising, considering all the commotion it caused.

I put my hands on my hips, squinting my eyes into the afternoon sun. "Well. This sucks."

"You're not wrong." Della tittered, watching me as I glanced the tire over. She fidgeted with a strand of her hair. "Think you can fix it?"

"Do you have a spare?" I asked, incredulously. Della seemed like the sort of person who wouldn't carry a spare tire, because she rarely seemed prepared for anything else. Unless it was an impromptu flash mob on the beach.