Melt Like Butter

by Daisy May

  We had nearly twenty-four hours of driving ahead of us – and since I’d never learned to drive, Andy would be doing all of it. I still hadn’t figured out what exactly he was getting out of this. I was fairly certain he wasn’t planning to murder me, but could he really just be doing this out of the kindness of his heart? People that nice didn’t exist. Did they?

  In any case, I was glad to say goodbye to that ratty motel. I’d stayed far longer than I’d ever anticipated, and I never intended to sink so low again. Next time I found myself broke, I’d find someone local to mooch off.

  I’d even be willing to get a job – God forbid – before putting myself into that kind of situation again.

  “Hope you like podcasts,” Andy said as he got into the driver’s seat. “I have a whole bunch of interesting stuff queued up for us to listen to.”

  “What does ‘interesting’ mean to you?”

  “Accounting stuff, financial news, real estate updates…”

  I coughed loudly. “Do what you want. I brought my headphones.”

  He pulled out of the driveway, looking slightly disappointed. “I thought we could listen together, maybe talk about what they say.”

  “I’d rather kill myself.”

  He looked at me sharply.

  “Sorry.” I grimaced. “I’m just going to nap, all right?”

  “No, don’t.” He merged onto the interstate, changing lanes effortlessly. “We can listen to whatever you want. The radio, maybe? Or do you have some mp3s on your phone?”

  “Sure, but…”

  I wasn’t sure if I wanted Andy to know the kind of music I listened to. My phone only had my absolute favorite playlists. What if the music was a window into my soul, or something? He was already getting too close to me. Closer than anyone had gotten to me in years.

  But I was being silly. It was just music.

  “Give me the aux cord.” I hooked my phone up to his speakers, and the sounds of piano keys and violin strings drifted into the air.

  “Wait, seriously?” he asked. “What is this, Bach?”

  “Mozart, actually.” I knew I shouldn’t have done this. “You’re not into it, are you?”

  “Um… not exactly.” Keeping his eyes on the road, he made a face. “I can deal with classical for a while, but if we listen for long enough, it’s going to give me a headache.”

  “I can turn it off.” I jabbed at my phone until the music went silent. “I would’ve thought you’d be open to it. Seems to be up your alley.”

  “Oh, boring people all listen to classical? Way to stereotype.”

  I shrugged. “Seemed to fit your personality.”

  “And it doesn’t fit yours.”

  “I know,” I said. “I used to listen to top 40, hip-hop, all of that… A few months of working at American Apparel ruined all of that for me. The same stuff blaring in your ears all day makes you go crazy.”

  “So you decided to try out something different?”

  “Yeah, and I got a little hooked. I figure if I listen enough, maybe I’ll get smarter, like babies do.”

  It felt strange to tell him this. I’d never even shared my love for classical music with anyone, much less the reasoning behind it. What was I going to do next? Tell him about my childhood?

  “Maybe you should put it back on,” he said. “I could use a little more intelligence, too.”

  *

  Three hours in, we stopped to grab an early lunch. “Thank God,” Andy said, stretching on his tiptoes after he got out of the car. “I was about to rip my own face off.”

  “The music was that bad?”

  “Worse.” He headed into the rest stop, where there was a food court with McDonald’s, Subway, and KFC. He got in line for the KFC, then looked back at me. “I assume you have enough funds for lunch.”

  I wondered what he’d do if I said “no.” He was such a soft touch – he definitely would’ve paid for me. Unfortunately, my conscience had decided to make an appearance, and it wasn’t going to allow that. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  I picked up a sandwich and ate it standing up. After all of the time in the car, I was going to avoid sitting as long as possible. Andy sat at a table nearby, stretching his legs out in front of him as he dug into a bucket of popcorn chicken.

  “Three hours down, twenty-one to go,” he said with a grim smile.

  “And then twenty-four more on your way back.” We’d already discussed how I wouldn’t be going back with him. He thought I was hoping to start a new life with my new mother figure, Laney. In reality, I’d be getting on the first flight to Acapulco.

  “Ugh,” he sighed. “I may just sell the car and fly back. I don’t think I can handle that much more driving. Especially not alone.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “No, but it’s tempting.”

  I finished my sandwich and wiped my mouth. “If you drop me at the side of the road, I can hitch the rest of the way. You can turn back right now.”

  “I’m not going to do that.”

  “Or you could take me to a bus stop.”

  “Not a chance.”

  A strange warmth wrapped around my heart. I’d had a feeling he wouldn’t abandon me, no matter how much driving he had to do. He was too invested in this now. Invested in me.

  I crinkled up the sandwich wrapper and threw it in the garbage. “Maybe you could teach me to drive, so I could help out.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “And kill us both? I don’t think so.”

  “It can’t be that hard. Everybody does it.”

  “It takes months to learn, Tyler. And you don’t jump straight on the highway.” He popped the last piece of chicken into his mouth and licked his fingers. “Do you even have your learner’s permit?”

  “No.”

  “So it’d be illegal as well as stupid. Gotcha.”

  “That’s one way of putting it.” I followed him back out to the car, which I was now starting to see as a prison. My legs cramped up at the mere sight of it. “When’s our next stop?”

  He snorted. “We haven’t even started driving. Are you sure you can handle this?”

  “Dead sure.”

  In the car, he flicked through radio stations until he found one playing the kind of horrible pop I hated. At least he kept it at a low volume. I couldn’t really say anything, considering what he was doing for me. Besides, after three hours, even I was sick of classical.

  “Tell me about your other road trips,” he said. “Why did you decide to hitchhike?”

  “Oh, we’re bonding now?”

  Keeping both hands on the wheel, he shrugged. “We’re stuck together for a while longer. Might as well try to entertain each other.”

  “You entertain me, then.”

  “I asked you the question first.”

  “I’ll tell you about my hitchhiking after you tell me something interesting from your life.”

  “I already fell for that once,” he laughed. “Besides, you already know there’s nothing interesting in my life.”

  “There used to be… but fine.” I relaxed against the seat, debating how much I wanted to open up. “I hitchhiked when I was eighteen. I was in a fight with my mom – Sophie, I mean. She kicked me out with nothing but the clothes on my back and the couple hundred in my wallet. All I wanted was to get away.”

  “Ah, so this wasn’t the first time.”

  “Nope. And she would’ve kicked me out a few other times before that, if I hadn’t been a minor.”

  “Were you that much of a brat?” He jabbed the radio off.

  “No,” I said, slightly offended. “Sophie was just a bitch.”

  “That seems harsh. She didn’t have to adopt you.”

  “And she shouldn’t have.” I leaned my head against the headrest and sighed. Andy was getting close to the painful parts of my past, the things I never opened up about to anyone – not even the counselor Sophie had forced me to visit for a few weeks during my teen years.

  “She didn’t seem t
hat terrible.”

  I swiveled my head to stare at him. “What?”

  “Oh. I may or may not have gone to see her when I was trying to figure out what your deal was.” He looked sheepish. “She was a bit of a character.”

  I blinked. I should’ve been outraged by his invasion of my privacy, but I was more stunned. I couldn’t even imagine Andy meeting Sophie. They were from two separate areas of my life. Sophie was part of my past. Andy, my present. Neither of them would be in my future.

  “So she was a pretty bad mom?” Andy asked gently.

  “Not all the time. But that doesn’t mean she should’ve had a kid.” I closed my eyes. Fuck it. After we reach Oakland, I’m never going to see this guy again. “She was fine until Greg left, and then everything went to shit. It was like she only cared about having her perfect little family. Not about me as a person.”

  “She must’ve been heartbroken.”

  “Sure, and so was I. They never gave me the ‘we both still love you’ speech – which is good, because they would’ve been lying. After he left, he never contacted me again.”

  “Never?” Andy sounded horrified. “You never heard from him again?”

  “He picked up the phone when I called, which I did at first. After a year or two, I realized I was the only one making the calls. I decided to wait and see how long it’d take him to call me.” I stared at the cars speeding ahead of us. “I’m still waiting.”

  “Shit. Tyler, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It is what it is.” And “it” was a steaming pile of shit. “I had it better than a lot of kids. I never wanted for anything physically. Just emotionally.”

  “Sophie was mean to you?”

  “Not too often. It was more like she forgot I was even there. She had her own life, and I got in the way of it.”

  “That’s messed up.”

  This was why I didn’t tell people about my childhood. I couldn’t stand being pitied. “Anyway, when I was eighteen, she freaked out over a little thing and told me to get out. Said she never wanted to see me again. I took a cab to the highway and stuck my thumb out. Headed down to Mexico and spent a month getting drunk on the beach.”

  It’d been one of the best months of my life. Once the hurt from Sophie’s rejection had faded, I’d embraced the hedonism and befriended both locals and travelers. My high school Spanish had gotten me farther than I thought it would, and learning more vocabulary was the one thing that kept my tequila-soaked brain from disintegrating entirely.

  That was when I’d sealed up my feelings about my family in a tiny compartment and pushed them down, never to be seen again. I’d realized then that I could only rely on myself, but that was okay, because I could rely on myself. I was strong enough.

  I could’ve stayed there forever, flirting with sexy young men and women while letting lustful older men buy me drinks from the sidelines. But I wanted to go home and look Sophie in the eye, knowing I didn’t need her anymore. When the money ran out, I went back and knocked on her door. She let me move back in without much discussion. We never did tend to have deep conversations.

  “That sounds…” Andy shook his head.

  “Depraved?” I laughed. “I know it’s not exactly your speed.”

  “I was going to say it sounded like an experience, but ‘depraved’ works, too.” He braked sharply and honked at the car ahead. “I can’t imagine doing anything like that.”

  “I can’t imagine you doing anything like that, either.”

  “You never know,” he said. “Now that I’ve started doing crazy things, who knows where I’ll stop? I never would’ve imagined myself doing something like this, either.”

  “So I bring out the crazy in you?”

  “Sure, yeah.” He looked at me and smiled. “You could say that.”

  And for him, it didn’t seem to be a bad thing.

  SIXTEEN – ANDY

  It was ten o’clock when we decided to stop and find a place to sleep. Still early, but we’d driven for the majority of the day – more than twelve hours, when you took our breaks into account. By this time tomorrow, we’d be in Oakland.

  Tyler suggested looking for a cheap motel, but I wasn’t going to put myself through that – not after seeing the state of the place he’d been staying in. I found a hotel with two single rooms available, and we went there instead.

  “What are you doing?” he whispered to me frantically as we checked in. “Why don’t you get one room?”

  “Because there’s two of us.”

  “We can share, can’t we? Don’t waste your money.”

  It did seem a little silly to get two rooms. I’d assumed he’d be more comfortable that way, though – or maybe it was just that I would.

  I turned back to the clerk. “Do you have a double room?”

  He popped his gum. “We have a single room with a king-size bed.”

  “I mean a room with two beds,” I said.

  “A king-size is fine,” Tyler said.

  “What if I snore?” I asked. “Or if I drool on you in my sleep?”

  The clerk was unamused. “Gents, if you could make up your minds, there’s somebody else waiting.”

  All right, screw it. I could handle sharing a bed with a pretty guy for one night.

  “We’ll take it,” I said.

  The room ended up being more than large enough for two, although I had my doubts about how much of the bed I’d end up taking up. Back in my days with Wright I was a sleep cuddler, always latching onto him while unconscious in the middle of the night. I’d absolutely die if I did anything like that to Tyler.

  You’re not to do anything like that, I firmly instructed my subconscious. It wouldn’t happen.

  Striding over to the window, I pushed back the curtains. “Nice view. It must be bright in here when it’s light out.”

  “Too bad we’ll be leaving at the break of dawn tomorrow, huh?” Tyler lay down on top of the covers and switched on the TV.

  “If by ‘the break of dawn,’ you mean seven. I’m planning on a jog before that.”

  He stared at me, his jaw hanging open. “I didn’t think it was humanly possible to get up earlier than seven.”

  I took the remote out of his slack hand. Standing beside the bed, I flipped through a few channels until I found CNN. The reporter was talking about a hurricane that’d just hit the Caribbean, and I frowned as he explained how serious it was.

  “God, you really are boring, aren’t you?” Tyler asked, taking the remote back. “We could at least watch some porn or something.”

  “Porn?”

  “I’m just kidding.” He smirked. “Unless you want to.”

  I coughed so hard that my chest hurt. “That’s what the fun people of the world do, huh? Watch porn with their friends?”

  “I’m sure some people do. I really just wanted to see your reaction.”

  I shot him a glare. “Was it worth it?”

  “Totally.” He cackled.

  His little jokes weren’t making me like him any less. In fact, the more time I spent with him, the more I wanted to be around him. It was strange, because by any rational measure we had nothing in common. Some of the things he said made me think he was a terrible person. Yet he was so charming about it, I couldn’t help but crave more of him. And the small, rare hints of vulnerability he let slip out were addictive.

  I sank into the armchair beside the bed.

  “We can watch something else,” Tyler offered. “Just not the news.”

  “Not porn, either.” I flipped through channels until I found an old comedy. It was already halfway over, but I’d seen it so many times I could practically recite it word for word, and Tyler said he’d seen it before, too.

  We sat in companionable silence, occasionally chuckling at the characters’ antics. As they got deeper and deeper into their predicament, Tyler let out a high-pitched giggle. His face went red as I looked over at him. “Pretend you didn’t hear me make that noise,” he said.

 
“That adorable giggle, you mean?”

  “More like that ear-splitting squawk.” He flapped a hand at me. “Look at the screen again, would you?”

  “Have I stumbled onto one of Tyler Bernhardt’s insecurities?” I asked, awed. “I didn’t think you had any.”

  “We all do,” he said, giving me a keen look. “Even you, I’m guessing.”

  “All right, enough of this conversation. Look at the screen.”

  He gave a low laugh. “Sure, sure.”

  We’d talked through the final scene where the man declared his love to the woman at the airport and she agreed to be with him forever. Now the credits were beginning to roll.

  I yawned and stretched, arching my back as I flicked off the TV. It was getting late and I needed to rest if I was going to be on day-long driving duty again tomorrow.

  I wondered what had gone on at work today, and whether someone else had taken over the telecom audit while I was away. I’d never taken two straight days off before, except the one time when I caught the norovirus. Even then, I’d called in for updates a few times over the course of the day.

  “Okay, night,” Tyler said, rolling over.

  “Wait, what?” I wrinkled my nose. “Are you saying you’re going to pass out like that, in the clothes you’ve been wearing all day? No shower? You’re not even brushing your teeth or washing your face?”

  “I’m tired.”

  “You’re gross!” I headed toward the bathroom. “You’ve been sweating in those clothes all day! Your stink is going to keep me up all night.”

  “I don’t know how vigorous you found our activities, but sitting in an air-conditioned car all day doesn’t exactly get me sweaty.”

  I shook my head, unable to believe what I was hearing. “That’s disgusting. You’re disgusting.”

  “God, you’re harsh!” He sat up, groaning. “I’ll go brush my teeth, but that’s all. I’ll shower in the morning.”

  “We’re leaving at seven. I thought it wasn’t humanly possible to get up before that.”

  He rubbed a hand over his eyes. “You’re really determined to make me shower now, aren’t you?”