by Ben Karwan
Eventually he slings his bag into the back and taps on my window.
‘Hey loser, I’m riding shotgun.’
‘In the back, sunshine,’ I say, taking a bite of one of Mrs Carter’s cookies. We stare each other down for a few seconds until he realises that because I’m already sitting, I have the upper hand.
He gets into the back next to Sophie.
‘Well, my dear children,’ says Teddy as though he were a stadium announcer. Barely two minutes have passed since we left his house and already he’s getting annoying. ‘They said it would never happen. But, alas, they were mistaken. For it seems Theodore C. Block, famed for his failure with the ladies, has finally broken his curse. On the eve of his departure on a death-defying adventure across the country, Theodore C. Block finally rid himself of that bastardly social construction known as “virginity”.’
‘Congratulations,’ says Elliot as ironically as possible. ‘Perhaps now would be an appropriate time to request he cease his annoying habit of talking about himself in the third person.’
I catch Sophie’s eye in the side mirror and we both laugh.
Whether or not we want to hear it, the first hour of the trip is dedicated to Teddy’s recounts of his sex life. He laced his bed with rose petals, lit his room with candles and played romantic music. Basically he acted out every cliché in the book. It’s both remarkably Teddy-like and completely out of character. I feel as if it would’ve been incredibly awkward rather than incredibly romantic.
‘Hence why he believes he should be riding shotgun in this vehicle of perpetual virginity,’ he concludes. I’m not sure if he’s being exceptionally dumb or exceptionally self-centred, given Sophie’s presence.
‘I hope for all our sakes that the infamous Theodore C. Block had the sense to use protection,’ says Sophie.
Teddy holds his hand over his heart and flinches as though he’d been shot. ‘Of course he did.’
‘Moving on … I thought we should go over the outline for this trip,’ says Elliot.
‘Just because you have a remarkable ability to maintain your virginity –’
‘Yeah, we’re done with that conversation,’ interrupts Elliot. ‘Now, we all have licences, so I figured we should take turns driving to minimise stopover times and get to the Sunshine Coast as quickly as possible.’
‘Yeah, about that,’ says Teddy. ‘I can’t drive a manual.’
‘Pathetic,’ says Sophie, sighing.
‘Okay, well at least we won’t die at your hand,’ I say. ‘The rest of us can manage. The GPS says we have another nineteen hours ahead of us, so we can just split that between us – roughly six hours each.’
‘True, but you girls are both on your red Ps.’
I hadn’t considered that. I don’t know about other states but in Victoria you can only drive with one passenger between sixteen and twenty-one years old for the first year you have your licence. Being a year older, Elliot is on his green Ps, so he has no passenger restrictions.
‘But it’s okay,’ says Elliot, reading my mind. ‘Once we get to New South Wales, the restrictions only apply overnight, between eleven pm and five am, so it’s less of an issue. I’ll just take the first shift. I reckon we should reach the border early this afternoon, so one of you girls can take over then.’
‘Great,’ I say. ‘I don’t mind driving.’
‘Me neither,’ says Sophie. ‘I’ll drive whenever I’m needed and it’s legal.’
So we agree to decide on the new driver once we reach New South Wales.
Less than an hour and a half into the trip, as we pass through this town called Seymour, Teddy asks the worst road-trip question in existence: ‘Are we there yet?’
‘Not even close,’ I answer.
‘Well, that’s a shame, because my bladder is quickly filling.’
‘Hold it,’ snaps Elliot. ‘We’ll stop in Shepparton – but only because we’ll need fuel and food, not because you can’t control your bladder.’
Sophie laughs.
The scenery goes by at a blistering speed, though the only sights are fields of browned grass, dead trees and the occasional cow. Non-suburban Australia is beautiful.
Sophie hands me her iPhone so I can connect it to Vincent’s stereo system. I find the cable in the glove box and plug it in. Sophie asks me to play a Taylor Swift album but I refer her to the shotgun rules (an app I have on my phone – yes, I actually do have an app for that), which say that the shotgun passenger gets to choose the music. Instead of Taylor Swift, much to Elliot’s relief, I opt for an Alter Bridge album, which I’m surprised to find in Sophie’s collection.
Elliot, Sophie and I all sing along to the music while Teddy complains about not knowing the songs until we reach the town centre in Shepparton. Elliot pulls up to a McDonald’s, where we all order Quarter Pounder meals for lunch. We then climb back into the car (Teddy racing out to call shotgun), meals in hand. Much to Teddy’s annoyance, the shotgun rider is responsible for unwrapping Elliot’s meal so he can eat and drive at the same time.
We refuel and continue north. It’s one thirty-seven.
‘Oi, Teddy, can you pass me some chips?’ says Elliot.
Teddy groans loudly. ‘What am I, your slave?’
‘You wanted to sit there,’ says Elliot.
‘Fine.’ Teddy digs out a handful of fries and pokes them into Elliot’s cheek.
‘Dude, I’m driving. Do you want us to crash and die?’
‘You moved your mouth.’
‘Just give me the whole thing.’
Teddy groans again and hands the fries over. Elliot sticks the box between his legs so the fries don’t go everywhere.
As shotgun rider, Teddy puts on a rap album nobody but he enjoys, which I’m sure is his intention. Luckily we only have to endure an hour of it, because just after two-thirty we cross the Murray River and arrive in New South Wales.
‘When we switch drivers,’ says Teddy, ‘I need to get out for a bit. The coke from Macca’s is now ready for expulsion, significantly warmer than when I drank it.’
‘You’re disgusting,’ Sophie and I say in sync, but Elliot stifles a laugh.
Elliot pulls the car over in a small town called Tocumwal, which sits on the river, and Teddy goes to pee. We stand stretching our legs in the sun and Elliot flips the green P plate over to the red side. Sophie stands with her hand on the front passenger door, claiming shotgun. She just wants to listen to Taylor Swift.
Teddy returns after an eternity, calls shotgun and is promptly told Sophie’s hand has beaten him to it. We jump back in … and I stall the car. I indignantly blame the clutch for being looser than I’m used to but the fault is entirely mine and the jeering is justified.
My second attempt is more successful. Elliot closes his eyes and dozes in the back seat so he can rest and get ready to drive tonight. Sophie and I have both suggested finding a motel to save him driving overnight but he wants to spend more time with Nessie and doesn’t want to waste time just because it’s dark.
I haven’t really given much thought to what we’ll do once we get to Scotland. I mean, I know we’re going to surprise Nessie but it doesn’t seem likely that her family will want us all staying in their house. I guess we’ll find some form of accommodation but we don’t exactly have a real plan. All I care about is lying on the beach and pretending uni preferences aren’t a thing, to be honest.
‘I wish The Christina was here,’ says Teddy.
‘The Christina?’ I say. ‘It’s a term of endearment.’
‘Sounds like it, too.’
‘Why was she even at your party? Who’d she come with?’ asks Sophie, who doesn’t yet know all the details.
‘She was the plus-one of a friend. They went to school together or something.’
‘How serious is it?’ I ask.
‘Serious enough for her to get all up on this. More than once, I might add.’
‘Can you have a serious conversation for, like, five minutes?’
&n
bsp; ‘There’s a lot of things I can do in five minutes.’
‘Jesus, Teddy,’ says Sophie.
‘Cut the bull and have a real conversation.’ I’m getting annoyed and I’m not even sure why. I catch sight of him in the rear-view mirror and realise he’s blushing.
‘I, uh …’
‘You really like her, don’t you?’ I say.
Judging by the delay before he speaks, I think he nods before realising my eyes are back on the road.
‘She’s not like the other girls I’ve tried to pick up. Sex was never my goal with her. Okay, well, at first it was, but after about two minutes of talking to her, I just wanted her to like me and I wanted to get to know her.’
I don’t really know how to respond to that.
‘Maybe that’s why you’re actually dating her,’ suggests Sophie. ‘You dropped the “Theodore C. Block: womaniser extraordinaire” act and let her see Teddy, the genuine, kind-hearted guy underneath.’
He gets even more awkward. ‘Yeah, maybe. I mean, the physical stuff is great but it’s just a bonus.’
Sophie coos. ‘Did you hear that, Jen? Our little Theodore is falling in love.’
‘Shut up,’ he insists, and I laugh.
I drive until about four, when we make a three-minute pit stop and I buy a bottle of water. All the salt from the fries has made me thirsty.
Sophie climbs into the driver’s seat, I call shotgun, Loverboy is a sook about it and Elliot sleeps on. I drink half of the water very quickly and wash it down with one of Mrs Carter’s muffins. Teddy helps himself to a muffin, a ginormous slice of cake and three cookies.
My phone rings maybe fifteen minutes after Sophie takes the wheel and I see Dylan’s name on my screen. I lower the volume of the Bright Eyes album.
‘Answer it, I want to abuse him,’ says Sophie.
‘Can I answer it?’ asks Teddy.
‘No, stay quiet unless I ask for help,’ I tell them and I answer the call.
‘Hello?’
‘Jen, babe, I’m so glad you answered. Look, can we catch up? I can come over now. I really need to talk to you.’
‘That’s not going to happen because a) I don’t want to see you, b) I’m really mad about how you spoke to me and c) I’m currently in the middle of New South Wales.’
‘Why are you –’
‘Road trip with Elliot, Teddy and Sophie.’
‘Elliot?’ Anger vibrates through his voice.
‘Yes. Elliot,’ I snap. ‘You got a problem with that? Actually, you know what? I don’t care.’
He takes a moment to breathe slowly.
‘You tell him!’ Teddy says.
I get Teddy to shut up with a wave of my hand.
‘Okay,’ Dylan says. ‘I get it. Can I at least say I’m sorry? I mean, I know I was a total jerk. I really like you, Jen, and I hate myself for throwing that away.’ He doesn’t sound sincere at all.
‘Sure, Dylan. Whatever.’
‘Is it because of those concert tickets? Because I’ll tell Ava –’
‘It’s not about the tickets,’ I say irritably.
‘Oh.’
‘Is there anything else?’
‘No. I mean, I still love you and I want you back. Please?’
‘Goodbye, Dylan.’
I hang up the phone.
‘I love that you just did that,’ says Teddy, holding his hand up from the back seat. ‘Can one of you give me a high five so I don’t feel like a loser? Please?’
I glance over at Sophie. She’s smiling at the road ahead of us.
Chapter Eleven
Elliot stirs in the back seat at about six forty-five. He wipes the crusted sleep from his eye and flicks it at Teddy.
‘You’re a moron,’ says Teddy.
‘Where are we?’ says Elliot.
‘About forty-five minutes out of Forbes,’ I say.
‘I’m so thirsty,’ he complains, so I give him my water bottle. ‘You’re a lifesaver.’
Sophie pulls over to the side of the road to let me jump in the driver’s seat. We’re in between towns, so there’s nowhere else to stop. The ground is hard and dusty and I can feel myself burning in the sun. Teddy climbs into shotgun.
At about seven-thirty we arrive in Forbes, where we refuel the car and get our second meal from McDonald’s for the day. Road-tripping and eating healthily just don’t go together. Teddy complains again about how he has to unwrap the driver’s food: ‘It’s so much effort! I just want to eat my own food.’
Sophie takes advantage of the relative quiet to call home and say goodnight to Luke. It’s strange to hear her say goodnight, because it feels like only an hour or two have passed since she was saying goodbye to him this morning.
Teddy tries to start a game of I-Spy but it’s incredibly unsuccessful on account of there being nothing to see except brown grass. Then he tries again. And again. ‘Okay, I’ve got one,’ he says. ‘I spy with my little –’
‘For the love of God,’ says Elliot, ‘would you shut up?’
Just before eleven, right as my eyelids start to droop, I pull the car over.
‘Are you sure you don’t want to stop and sleep somewhere?’ I say while Elliot and I swap places.
‘Nah, it’s all good,’ Elliot says, turning the key. ‘Don’t you trust me?’
I narrow my eyes. ‘Of course I do. But you still need sleep.’
‘I slept before!’
‘Fine,’ I say, ‘but one of us will stay awake with you the whole time.’
‘Will we just?’ says Teddy.
Sophie flicks his ear.
‘Jen, I’ll be fine,’ says Elliot.
‘I don’t care,’ I say. ‘If one of us is awake too, then at least you’ll have someone to talk to.’
‘I mean, if you want …’ says Elliot.
‘Good,’ I say. ‘Then it’s settled.’
‘Who wants to sleep first, then?’ says Sophie. ‘We can do it in shifts.’
Sophie, Teddy and I all look at each other.
‘I will,’ I say. ‘Wake me up at three or something?’
‘Deal,’ says Sophie.
I change into my tracksuit pants and wriggle around for a bit to get myself comfortable – or as comfortable as I can be in the back seat of a car – and close my eyes.
Teddy wakes me at two thirty-seven. We pull over for the very few seconds it takes for Teddy and me to swap seats. Once we’re back on the road, Teddy falls asleep within a minute.
‘I’m just a little glad his shift is over,’ says Elliot after glancing at the rear-view mirror to make sure that Teddy is sleeping. ‘He was driving me crazy.’
I laugh. ‘What was he doing?’
‘Turning everything into an innuendo, talking about his various paraphilia. You know, Theodore stuff.’
‘Sounds fun.’
He murmurs his agreement. ‘Sophie went to sleep at around twelve-thirty and I got two hours of Teddy-talk.’
‘Where are we?’
‘In New South Wales. And in three … two … one … welcome to Scotland! About five hours to go. Factoring in one more pit stop, I’d say we’ll be there by eight at the latest.’
It’s weird but there seems to be a shift in the atmosphere once we cross the state line. It doesn’t make any sense because state lines are completely arbitrary but there’s something about Queensland that feels different to New South Wales, which feels different to Victoria. The world suddenly feels a whole lot bigger.
I wonder if this is why people like going overseas.
‘I still can’t believe we’re actually doing this,’ I say.
‘Me neither. But it’s fun. Why haven’t we ever road-tripped before?’
‘I don’t know,’ I answer honestly. ‘It was too difficult during school terms. Plus I guess it’s good we didn’t go … It would’ve just added to the rumour mill.’
‘Yeah, that’s true. God, some of those rumours were funny.’
‘You know what question annoyed me the
most?’ I ask.
‘What’s that?’
‘ “Are you guys together or just friends?” Why is it “just” friends, as if friendship is somehow not as good as romance? I think the whole concept of more than friends is weird.’
Elliot laughs. ‘I’m pretty sure you’re overthinking things.’
‘I was dating Dylan but that relationship was in no way better than this one.’
‘This one?’
‘You and me,’ I say impatiently. ‘People seem to think that if we started dating it would add something to the relationship and make it better, but that’s not necessarily the case. I love you a hell of a lot and I’m kind of insulted that people call us “just” friends. Sure, we don’t put our tongues in each other’s mouths and we don’t orgasm together and sure, our friendship is different to a romantic or sexual relationship. But it’s not necessarily worse. I don’t like it when people dismiss our friendship as insignificant.’
‘You’re crazy, you know that, Jen?’
I laugh. ‘I know.’
‘I’m touched, though. That’s one of the nicest psychotic rants I’ve ever been the subject of.’ He reaches over to grab my hand. ‘I feel the same, you know. I’ve just never thought about it so much.’
We arrive in the small town of Warwick just after five. We get fuel again (thank God for Grandma’s money) and swap places. Then Elliot sleeps.
For about an hour I just drive, taking in the scenery (or lack thereof) and focusing on not crashing. Sophie wakes at six fifteen. Really it’s Sophie’s turn to ride shotgun, but Elliot fell asleep there and we don’t want to wake him up just to get him to move.
Just before seven, we reach Brisbane. Teddy wakes up and we stop at McDonald’s for the third time in twenty-four hours, which definitely isn’t healthy. But such is life.
I go in and get everybody orange juice and bacon-and-egg McMuffins and stretch my legs for a bit.
‘Final stretch, guys,’ says Sophie as she pulls Vincent back onto the road, the sleeping Elliot still in shotgun.
I quickly become convinced Teddy has spiked his OJ, because although the radio is playing the top ten hits, he’s singing Broadway songs at the top of his lungs. Awfully, I might add. He almost gets through the entire first act of this musical called Next to Normal before Elliot reaches back and punches him in the leg.