Frankly Told: Cheers To That
The car smoothly glided over the highway, the night was silent with nothing but the soft sound of music on the radio and the engine’s purr showing proof of life on the streets.
The streetlights waved their orange glow over the car as it ran down the highway. A 2 am drive was always so therapeutic in the city. There had been quiet in the car for nearly forty-five minutes before she spoke up.
“Thank you so much for tonight,” she slurred through.
He smiled and nodded, keeping his eyes trained on the road. He couldn’t help but wonder what he would have missed if he decided to stay home that night.
“It was fun,” he commented, reminiscing briefly on the drama that had transpired.
“Yeah,” she agreed with a scoff. “I don’t think I would have enjoyed it as much without you there. Who knows I might have started my own drama because I was bored.”
She reached across the centre console and held his outstretched arm. Gently squeezing it caused a smile to creep ever so sheepishly across his face. A part of him hated that she made him so giddy but the rest of him loved it and when they were alone, he didn’t mind that side winning him over.
For another few kilometres, the car played host to a palpable silence. This wasn’t his first time and thus he figured her silence meant she was fast asleep with all the drinking she had done. He didn’t mind the drive back to her place in quiet solitude. The songs on the radio withered to white noise and the car engine whispered him into a meditative trance.
“Babes,” her voice brought him back to reality.
“I’m listening,” he responded sweetly.
“Why did you not want to drink with me?” she asked.
“What do you mean? I’m driving,” he reasoned with a smile on his face, gesturing to the steering wheel.
“Still,” she said. “Si the car knows its way home.”
He chuckled at her statement and smiled until he turned to his side. Seeing as she had her eyes on him with the sternest look on her face, his smile retreated into a straight line.
“Please, don’t joke like that,” he said in a dead-pan tone.
“But it does,” she insisted. “You are a good driver and I know you’d get me home. One drink never hurt anyone. You said you would drink more with me.”
“I know I said that,” he pointed out. “I just choose not to drink when I know I am driving.”
“Lately it seems like you choose never to drink when I am with you,” she pouted and crossed her arms.
Words left him stranded with no argument against what she was saying. Although, even if the words were there, there was no winning a battle of persistence with a drunk girl.
“Do you even love me anymore?” she shot.
“Wha- Where is this coming from?” he stuttered. “I’ve never stopped.”
“Then why don’t you want to have fun with me?” she prodded.
“I have fun with you!” he argued.
“Doesn’t seem like it. You always look annoyed with me and you always look like you want to be somewhere else,” she pushed. “It’s like you just use driving as an excuse. If it’s not convenient we can use a cab. What’s with you and driving everywhere?”
“It’s more convenient,” he sighed.
“More convenient how?” she poked.
“Safety and stuff,” he stated.
“Safety? Safety from what?” she dug in.
“I guess just making sure I know how I am, how you are getting home,” he calmly responded.
“Safety is relative,” she was now speaking loudly. “How do I know I am safe here?”
He shrugged.
She grabbed the wheel and pulled it to her side. The car jerked into the adjacent lane before he swerved back. He used too much strength and overshot which left him cutting this way and that before the car drifted in circles to a stop. His hands were nothing but white knuckles on the wheel. His headlights covered the dust, that the car had spat in the little dance along the empty highway, in an eerie white glow.
“Why?” Was all he could muster above his shuddering breath.
He looked over at her, face pale holding on to her safety belt. He was ready to yell but anger held its breath and he calmly veered the car back to its lane and continued driving albeit slower.
“I’m sorry,” she whimpered after a while of silence.
“I don’t want to drink,” he spoke with a dark undertone. “If I did drink, do you think we would have survived that? No. You just put both of us in danger right now. For what?”
He looked over at her, shaking in rage.
“Fun, yeah?” he spat through his teeth. “Cheers to that, right? God damn it!”
He gently turned the car into a petrol station and parked it. He shut off the engine, unlatched his safety belt and poured out onto the petrol station. Stumbling to the back of the car he heaved and his innards came spewing from his mouth. He gagged and gagged until there was nothing left.
Turning back to the car, he opened the door fished out a bottle of water, washed out his mouth and shut the door before leaning against the car. He looked up at the clear night sky with a sigh of relief, he could still feel the jitter in his legs and hands and his nose catching the smell of burnt rubber did not help.
After a while, he heard the passenger door open. He shut his eyes out of frustration and kept himself occupied trying to catch his breath but he could hear her walk over and feel her stand in front of him. He opened his eyes and looked at her face, trails of tears down her make-up. Without a word, she crumpled into his arms sobbing uncontrollably. A lump in his throat punched its way up.
“Yeah,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms in a comforting embrace.
“Cheers to that.”
