My Favorite Stranger

4

Mya was on the road again, heading back to the hotel.

She was beyond tired. Her head hurt from all of the brainpower she used to concentrate during the presentations. She didn't think they were going to run on that long, but she cursed at herself for not knowing better.

Tristan sitting next to her all night was a familiarity she was no longer comfortable with. The number of times she almost leaned her head on his shoulder was appalling. She missed when his hand would occasionally land on her thigh or he would nod off and lean against her too.

The vast emptiness even being so close next to each other was forlorn. She found it bizarre that you could be so happy with someone for so long, just for it to crash and burn the next month or even the next week. You could go from loving someone with every fiber of your being to hating them in seconds.

Was it ever truly love if I could hate him?

The harrowing cycle of thoughts began again, swirling around in her head as she drove. She was so consumed in the broken philosophy of it all, she didn't realize her front driver side tire was currently going flat and the spare was already in use.

The car began to slow down, Mya looking down at the tire pressure notification that popped up on the dashboard in disbelief.

"No, no, please," She begged as the car eventually came to a complete stop, tilting over on its left side. "Fuck!"

Tears broke through her waterline as she gripped the steering wheel and leaned over to rest her forehead over her hands. The night was tough, she hadn't had a drink and it was only the first night of the summit.

She cried softly. It was midnight and she had no idea if any car shops were open right now. She knew nothing about Santa Praiser and their business times.

After taking a few minutes to herself, stepping out of the car, and checking the tire, Mya called the first number that popped up on the internet for roadside assistance.

"Hello?"

"Hi yes, my tire is completely flat. I need a tow to the nearest mechanic here? Maybe? I'm not from here."

"Yes, completely flat."

"Where am I? Um ..." Mya's eyes darted to the street name next to the traffic lights. "The corner of Colt and Johnson."

"It's a white Jaguar."

"Thank you so much."

Mya wiped her eyes, getting back into her car and sighing heavily. She couldn't wait to get herself a drink.

What a pain in the ass.

Soon the questionable tow truck came around to hook her car up. The man was heavyset and sweating profusely. His white trucker hat was blotted with sweat stains and so was his white tank top. His dingy blue jeans were extra baggy, almost covering his steel-toed boots.

He was slightly scruffy, his light brown hair a little shaggy at an awkward length.

Mya didn't like to judge people. She did her best to refrain from the ugly habit just because she's gone through so much of it. It wasn't a nice thing to do and the man obviously worked up a sweat to come get her car, alone. He hooked up her car himself, checking out the deflated tire.

Despite his stench, she was pleased and that was enough. She accompanied the man in the truck — he offered her a ride to a shop he worked at close by that was still open. Getting in a tow truck with a random stranger wasn't exactly a bright idea, but she had no choice.

She was always prepared to rip off her heel and stab someone with it if it came down to it. She felt that her night couldn't get any worse so why not?