Highway Kismet

Birthday Girl, Mila

When we left the bar, both of us were drunk out of our minds. The driver in the cab refused to take us to another bar because he too could see that we had enough for one night, I blamed the tequila, it worked fast.

"Hey Mitch," I began as we sat in the backseat of the cab, "Have you ever done it in Sadie?"

Mitchell looked even more wasted than me when he answered, "In my G Wagon? No, I would never ruin her seats like that."

"So," I began in a drawl, "You've done it in another car?"

He nodded, "Yeah, more than one."

Of course, his family had more than one car, they probably had a whole parking lot full of cars.

He shifted closer to me and brought his lips to my ears, "I did it in my dad's Rolls Royce, after homecoming dance in high school."

He looked smug when he pulled away and I had to admit I was impressed, seemed like Bitchell wasn't as much of a prude as he portrayed himself to be. I slapped his shoulder and looked proudly at him.

"You naughty devil." I commented.

"But," I said more seriously, "Wasn't your dad mad? I mean everything in a Rolls Royce is handmade."

He looked at me as if I were speaking a foreign language, "Are you insane? Why would I tell my dad? And the seats were fine," He wriggled his eyebrows. "We did it cowgirl style."

I raised a brow at him, "You thoroughly thought it through, didn't you?"

"Of course." He replied.

I didn't know why but I started laughing at his little story, to me, it was hilarious at what a rebel he was when he was a teenager, heck maybe he still was.

It wasn't a long drive when the driver brought us back to the hotel and dropped us off out front. I got out of the car first and Mitchell followed me.

I stood in front of the hotel building; I knew I was very drunk because the lights of the hotel were looking very blurry, instead of just the light I saw lines around the lights.

"I missed summer." Mitchell's voice interrupted my stare off with the lights when he appeared next to me.

We began walking side by side towards the entrance of the hotel.

"You're from LA, it's always summer there." I pointed out.

"Yeah, but I've been in Boston for almost four years now and before that, I was in Connecticut for Pre-Law." He answered.

"Aw poor Mitchy hasn't lived at home for a long time." I teased him.

"But you're right," I agreed, "Summer is wonderful."

"Hmm," He hummed and looked up at the sky, it was a clear night with not a cloud in sight, the stars were shining high and bright and the moon beamed above us. "It's a wonderful night. In our busy days, we forget to appreciate the little things like the stars."

I nodded, "It's a pretty damn wonderf – whoa!" I missed my step and almost tripped over my own feet but Mitchell grabbed my arm.

I put my hand up and convinced him, and myself, "I'm okay, I'm okay." I said loudly.

He chuckled, "Someone is beyond wasted."

He then took the arm he was holding and put it around him and thereafter put his arm my waist.

"We will support each other in this seemingly difficult task of walking to our hotel room." He told me with a goofy grin.

With our arms around each other, we walked and somehow our drunk brains thought we could support each other, when we couldn't even support ourselves – nevertheless it was reassuring, and we walked fine afterward.