Blue Jeans

2. Purple Hair and The Old-New Truck

An awkward conversation with security, a stumble through baggage claim, and an overpriced parking fee later James and I were going down the highway. Leaving the bustling city of Nashville. "So..." I started. "So..." James repeated in a semi-mocking tone. "Of all the cars you could choose, why this old, beaten up truck?"

James, on the way to the parking garage, had informed me that he gained his truck as a graduation gift, and even got to pick the one he wanted. He also said he saved up for months in order to customize it to his liking. If this was true, then James had to be out of his mind.

The truck was an old, rusted red with hints of rusted brown. It almost appeared as if it were a snake that was still in the process of sheading it's skin. Then I decided what exactly it looked like. "If an old, red-faced man could appear in truck form, this truck would be it."

James laughed and replied, "I don't know, I just kind of... like it. I liked the potential it had."

I gave him a look. "Potential."

"Yeah, to turn it back into what it used to be. Or... at least something close. Plus, it was affordable, and there's no other truck like it."

Yeah, that's because all the others are rotting in a junkyard.

Seeing the look on my face, James chuckled. "Pay attention to more than just the truck's outer appearance."

I sighed. Fine, what the hell? Furrowing my brows, I decided to humor him.

The first thing I noticed was that the radio was new. I could see the time flashing as if the screen was no more than a year or two old. Next, the steering wheel was also new, judging by the sleek leather, and the speedometer was working as if the truck were half it's age.

No, even if it were only half it's age, the speedometer wouldn't work.

However, those were not the only new things about the truck. The seats were of a new cloth material that was actually quite comfortable. Not only that, but the engine sounded smooth, like it had just been put together. In fact, all the parts that required a car to function well were replaced with new or almost new replacements. The truck looked like a piece of junk, but it was actually a fairly nice form of transportation.

I was stunned. "Huh."

James, never taking his eyes from the road, smiled. "Now you see?"

"You bought a truck for dirt cheap, so you could use the rest of the money to turn it into a better truck than you could afford to just buy."

"Bingo. You know, you're smarter than you look."

Deciding to ignore his cheeky remark, I continued. "But don't you care what people think of your car when they see it?"

James, once again, shrugged. "If they'd only ask, I'd tell them. Plus, I know who my friends are. I shouldn't have to impress strangers who mean nothing to me. My friends don't give a damn about what I drive. As long as they can bum with me to get out of using up their own gas, they're content."

Speechless and stunned, all I could do was sit there with my mouth agape.

Changing the subject, James asked, "Well, what about you?"

"Huh?" I asked, blinking back to reality.

"What made you go with purple hair? Dad told me it would be brown."

My response was quick. After all, the amount of people who ask about you when you have purple hair is both astounding and incredibly annoying. "Actually, it's more of a dark purple. And I like it. It's a semi-permanent accessory that I can wear with almost any outfit. Plus, it marks me as an individual. And... my mom helped me pick it out. She even... dyed it for me."

Noticing my hesitation, James attempted to lighten the mood. "Seems like we both have a thing for individuality."

"Wow," I responded, "Look at you. Such big vocabulary."

James smirked. "You calling me a dumbass."

I let out a smug smirk back at him. "Maybe." James only chuckled in response. And, just like that, the mood was lightened, and James and I spent the rest of the trip down the road laughing and talking about random, unimportant things.

After we had been driving a while, I couldn't help but notice we were drifting further and further away from any trace of civilization. "Um... James? Where the hell are we going?"

"Home," was his quick, casual reply. "Why?"

"Because I feel like we're in the middle of nowhere!"

James' only response was an eye roll and an amused chuckle. He had a habit of doing that. Using his silence as an opportunity, I continued. "I was told you guys lived in a smaller city not far from Nashville. You know? Clarksville, Tennessee?"

"Well technically we're in county limits, but we're pretty far out from the city."

"Awe, man! What the hell!?" I exclaimed in exasperation. "You mean to tell me I'm gonna be stuck in the middle of the nowhere, all summer, with you!?"

James, despite my distress, laughed, "Wow, you city kids really are assholes."

"Takes one to know one," I grumbled as I slumped down in my chair. "I'm going to die of boredom!"

"Relax, sissy. Dad goes into the city several times a week, and I'm there almost daily."

"Well that's just a waste of gas."

"Hey, I like to drive. Plus, it's nice to have your own secluded home that you an just run away to at the end of the day. It's like having a place that's separate from the rest of the world."

"Yeah, separate and boring."

James chuckled, "You'll get it one day."

"You sound like an old grandpa."

Even while driving, James managed to roll his eyes before his response. "Oh, stop grouching. It's not as bad as you think."

My only response was to let out a dramatic huff.

Deciding he'd had enough of my attitude, James made an attempt to once again lighten the mood. "Well, drama queen, what exactly do you like to do that requires you to be in the city."

I thought for a moment before answering, "Well, everything. I like to skate, drum, hang out with my friends, all kinds of stuff. I like cheap fast food, and public pools. But I think museums are boring."

"Well, lucky for you, museums are not my specialty. But fast food is never in short supply around here. I'm not into skating much, but we do have a roller rink in Clarksville and there's even a bowling ally close to that. Public pools, I have no idea, but the lake my friends and I go to is pretty nice."

"You talk about your friends a lot." I observed.

James smiled and shrugged. "Yeah, well, we're all close. They're like family to me. Plus, if I'm right, I think you'll like them."

"And they'll like me?"

James' smile grew. "Definitely."

...

Thank you so much for reading this chapter of Blue Jeans! I wasn't expecting this chapter to be so long! over 100 words longer than the last one, but I am trying to make my chapters at least 1000 words each. That way there is good quantity along wit the good quality. I also just went back and fixed a few typos in the previous chapter to help improve said quality even more!

If you enjoyed this chapter and want to read more, please let me know! It's very encouraging to see a comment or vote, and motivated me to write even more!

Thank you for reading!

Jessica Alise